Madeleine Buttitta

Buoy

It was orientation at an all-womens college I attended for a few years, and there were girls everywhere. We were all looking for groups to co-mingle with for the upcoming orientation white water rafting trip, and I noticed her right away. Her name is Ryan, and she is lovely. We only said hello to each other, but the pleasant timbre of her voice still rings in my ears. Her poised exuberance stayed in her eyes; she shyly waved back, her shoulders rising a bit toward her ears. She has a moon-shaped face, her hair just past her ears, and the most soulful eyes. It took all I had to not stare at her. I think I failed in that respect.