I could tell you my name, but I won't. You're smart. You'll find out soon enough.
I have tangled red hair that I keep pulled back with a gray piece of twine. That old string is probably worth less than dirt, but I'll never let it go. My eyes are icy, more gray than blue. I'm seventeen, but look older. I might look a bit creepy.
Anyway, I have my telescope.
"What's so funny?" I ask as I walk backwards through the park.