Advertisement
Then I got good at almost.
I almost ran for student council.
I almost auditioned for the school play.
I almost applied to the college I secretly wanted.
Matthew was the only person who ever noticed the pattern.
Everybody called it love.
“You always stop yourself right before something good happens,” he told me one afternoon during sophomore year.
I laughed.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He only smiled.
“Someday you’ll realize I do.”
By high school, everyone expected us to end up together.
They were right.
“Someday you’ll realize I do.”
***
One Friday night after football practice, Matthew walked me home beneath the streetlights.
“I’ve been pretending we’re just friends,” he admitted.
“So have I,” I whispered.
He kissed me before I could lose my nerve.
College only made us stronger.
The day we graduated, he got down on one knee outside the little diner where we’d spent years studying together.
