It was a glorious, colorful autumn.
Weβd just left the coffee shop. When we walked by, she had giggled and pulled me inside, saying, βCβmon, letβs be basic white girls and get some pumpkin spice!β
I donβt like coffee. I never had. But when she handed me my cup and looked into my eyes while I tried it, it was the best thing Iβd ever tasted.
My hand still tingled where she grabbed it.
As we walked through the park with our drinks, a light drizzle began to fall. She pulled out an umbrella from her bag, I pulled up my hood and hunched my shoulders.
βDonβt be silly,β she giggled, pulling me under the umbrella with her. I couldnβt help but laugh too, her laugh is infectious.
As the sun started to shine again, she pulled me down to sit on a bench. She beamed down at me, and I could only gaze back adoringly.
βSo Avaβ¦β She began. I knew this tone of voice, itβs dangerous.
βWho do you like?β She whispered, and I looked away. I wanted to say, βyou, you, a thousand times you. Youβre the only one I can ever think about. Youβre gorgeous and sweet and funny andβ¦β
Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my cup.
She looked at me with a cautious smile. βIf I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?β
βOkay.β I said.
βThe person I likeβ¦ β¦is you.β
I drop my drink.
