Firecracker.

The wind blows warm and dry through the leaves--leaflets, really, so newly unfurled that they merely suggest the idea of a leaf, of a broad, vibrant plane set off against the white sky above. The wind blows, sending eddies of delicate pink and white petals swirling through the warm and dry air, tearing petals from branches and depositing them haphazardly about vibrant blades of grass, amidst craggy gaps in the gravel, atop the dry and powdery dust of the streets below. The wind blows warm and dry, and there, among it all, sits a hard and limited girl, her long hair swirling in eddies around her stony face.

She sits on a park bench unnoticed, blending into the peeling green paint and splotchy white of pigeon droppings almost imperceptibly, until with a start a weary traveler notices that the seat is occupied after all and moves on disappointed. She sits stoic and still, wasting no movement by fidgeting, taking up no more room than that required by her small and unimposing frame. On rare occasion a gentleman will make to approach, his path from lunch to the florescent white of his office leading directly to and past this mysterious flower--for she is indeed beautiful as only an exotic orchid can be--but something about the air of self-sufficiency she effuses like a perfume repels him, and the half-step that would have brought him to her feet is never redirected her way. No, his gait continues steady and undisturbed, he only vaguely aware of the secrets to which he will never be privy.

She sits quiet and still, staring fixedly at a spot of petaled lawn six feet in front of her, until suddenly that spot hides behind the white plane of a perfectly round, plastic disk. She blinks three times in quick succession, the only unnecessary motion she has made all afternoon, and slowly raises her pointed chin until her gaze focuses in the direction from which this Frisbee came. Almost immediately her dark eyes lock with another's--a man's--and in that brief moment she drinks in his boyish good looks greedily, as wilted jasmine drinks in the rain. He matches her expression uncertainly, and on soft footing in the grassy terrain takes a hesitant step forward.

Does he:

(A) pick up the Frisbee and return to his game;

or

(B) walk past the Frisbee to the bench where she sits?