The red-headed girl sat outside the park, her back against the wall. Her purple sweater itched only slightly, and she shifted her position. Her pen flowed smoothly over her paper, a drawing of a certain boy she liked. Almost as if she jinxed herself, a rough but clear voice called out from above her. "Excuse me, my name is Ike." Her icy blue eyes shifted upward. Ike stood tall, a long sleeved white shirt reaching his knees. His eyes were so interesting, ovals with teardrops, but reflected so much color in a faint way. His hands, legs and neck were grey and striped. The girl smiled at him. "My name is Mayflower, but everyone I know calls me May." She paused, thinking. "Or Carrots," May added. She patted the ground, a signal for him to sit. He smiled back, and strolled over. "People like to make f-fun of me and call me ghost," he stammered, his cheeks slightly red. May noticed his headphones were light rainbow colored. "I think people are mean then," she said, punching his arm playfully.