feeling of jealousy, a sensation I’ve come to hate more than any other. I wish I never had to feel it again.
THEATER FOYER. AFTER THE PLAY.
We traipse out of the auditorium into the glare of the foyer. Seeing a play stops time—makes the real world seem so harsh. I blink in the light and, realizing that I managed not to think about anything else for the past hour, I cherish the moment. The sight of Mia disappearing through the doors into the night ahead brings back my excitement for tomorrow and the familiar brow-furrowing pang that seems always with me nowadays. We follow her out and, under the light of the evening street lamps, I remember the faint sense of importance that I started the evening with. She hasn’t spoken to me yet. The evening wasn’t what I thought it might be but there’s always tomorrow. Tonight I’m happy to slide in beside you in the darkness of the bus.
You lean against the window, and I lean against you, and we watch the lights go by in silence.
MY KITCHEN. FRIDAY MORNING.
Meet me tomorrow is now today. It feels like forever since yesterday and yet today came so fast. By the time I got home last night, my anticipation had tripled and I couldn’t sleep. In my head I practiced appropriate responses to the possible conversations we could be going to have. I’ve spent an hour getting ready for school and this afternoon still feels like an eternity away. I’ll go crazy! I’ve had a few spoonfuls of cornflakes and now I’m staring at the bowl, wondering why I would ever want to eat. Mom comes in and asks me if I liked the play. I’m too preoccupied to be chatty. Not hungry? she says. Not like you, hon. Everything okay? She hugs me as I leave for school and for a second I want to stay in that hug forever. Then, drawn by the thought of Mia, I am out the door.
SCHOOL COURTYARD. NEARLY “AFTER SCHOOL.”
Nearly there! Fifteen minutes to go; today, fifteen minutes feels like a lifetime. Final class of the day and we’ve been let out of history early. Given my concentration level, I couldn’t even tell you it was history. I slip into the courtyard ahead of everyone, wondering where I should wait. I mentioned at lunch today that I’m meeting Mia, so you know not to stick around. The library! It’s quiet—there’s never anyone there—and, thinking that peace and quiet might help, I head quickly for the doors.
SCHOOL LIBRARY. MOMENTS LATER.
There are bookcases on every side of me, as high as the ceiling. I head down an aisle. There’s Harmony. At least there’s the top of her head, her face in a book. She’s one of the only two people in here. I stand in fiction and pretend to look busy. From the corner of my eye, I watch her expression as she reads. She seems so comfortable being who she is, so open that, forgetting I didn’t want company, I go and sit down opposite her. She raises her eyes to me expectantly.
HARMONY
Hi.
ME
Hi.
Even her “Hi” is peacefully melodic. I speak before I’m even aware of the question forming in my head:
How come you don’t try as hard as everyone else to be liked?
There is an impatient shhh from the one other person in here.
HARMONY
Liked?
I feel the sweaty panic of saying something stupid, and make effusive efforts to cover it up.
ME
I just mean you’re different, different good. Great different. Yourself!
She smiles.
HARMONY
I’m kidding. I consider it a compliment.
I let my breath out.
ME
It is a compliment. I’d like to be more like you.
She smiles.
HARMONY
Really? Well, I can’t see the point of being exactly like everyone else.
We share a minute of thoughtful silence. She looks at me carefully.
HARMONY
What are you so afraid of?
That’s an excellent question! I’m still trying to find an answer when she continues:
Everything you’re going through is perfectly normal.
My heart falters. I make sure my expression says “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” but I have a nervous inkling that I do.
HARMONY
I had the biggest crush on a friend of my sister once. She was amazing.
She goes on, completely unfazed.
It’s funny how there can be something special about that one person, isn’t it?
I’m that transparent!? The idea is mortifying but at the same time this girl has just given me license to feel something. Catching my stunned expression, she smiles warmly.
HARMONY
I’ve had a hundred crushes. There’s a lot to be attracted to in this