"The activity of using your feet to play with the feet of another.
Well, yes, but that's a little dry.
Diner, one AM. Linoleum and mercury.
There are four of you in the booth - your girl and your mutual friend on one side, on the other you and, of course, his girlfriend. You know, the one with the green hair, the one you've had a crush on since that one weekend?
Something at the side of your foot. You wait a few seconds, and there it is again. A vague pressure, lingering this time. While he's talking, you glance down, no need to read subtext into a table leg. Size six yellow Vans.
Food. Bite chew chew swallow. You shift your weight ever so subtly, pushing back, and then a few seconds later, draw your foot in another half of an inch.
The slightest weight on your toes, the narrowest arc of movement, up, down, up, down. You sneak a glimpse out of the corner of your eye and she blinks just a quarter-second too long.
Now you have to reevaluate everything. What she looks like when you walk in the room. Innocent things she said in the car when they were inside buying wine. The way she acted that one time that you and everyone else chalked up to the mushrooms. The jokes she makes that you have to explain to everyone else.
Across the table, your girlfriend dips a fry into the ketchup, looks up, and smiles at you. You know all the teeth with your eyes closed. You smile back, almost laughing.
That is footsie.