“Sh—” That first split-second of recognition hits me hard. It feels like an earthquake is trapped inside my body. My skin rumbles with the impact.
Power lines go down.
Trees are uprooted.
Homes are destroyed.
Cities are leveled.
Her hands fly to my chest right before her eyes find my face. “Oh my God.” Wait for it. “I’m so s—”
There. I watch the words evaporate right off the tip of her tongue. She goes white and then pink like a human mood ring. Her mouth flaps open and her black eyelashes flutter against her cheeks.
“Hi Aimee.”
Her eyes dart between my face and my orange-juice-soaked shirt. She pulls away and covers her face with her hands. “I am so sorry. I am such a klutz,” she whispers, peeking at me through her fingers.
I gingerly pull the sticky fabric away from my chest. “It could have been hot coffee. Just tell yourself that.”
“I can’t believe—” She falters, shakes her head. “I have no idea what to say right now.”
“A simple hello could lead to a million wonderful things.”
That gets her hands off her face, which is nice because I want to look at her. I want to examine all the details that make her up and then compare them to my memories to make sure that I haven’t forgotten anything important. Hair, eyes, shoulders, that freckle on her cheek.
“What are you doing here?” She squeaks.
“Getting gas.” I state the obvious. “You?”
“Same.” I follow the movement of her head to where Mara is leaning over her car. She waves and I wave back. “We’re skipping class today to head home early for the Thanksgiving break. M-Mara wanted a granola bar and I had a craving for orange juice and, well… you can figure out the rest.”
Silence. We’re awkward. This is awkward.
I cough. “Of all the gas stations in all the towns in all the world…” Aimee blinks at me and I know that she has no idea what I’m talking about. “Casablanca,” I offer up.
Aimee shakes her head. “I haven’t seen it.”
“Well you could knock me sideways. I’m shocked.”
She laughs and as it fades, it turns into a smile. A real smile. It’s the one that I remember. So beautiful that it puts the sun to shame. I tell her this and she smiles and blushes some more.
“So, um, are you going home for Thanksgiving?” She asks eventually.
I lean back on my heels and squint my eyes against the sun hanging at the top of the sky. “Nah. It’s too far for such a short trip. I have to be on campus by Saturday morning for track team stuff.” I take a shallow breath. “So, how are things with your family?”
“Oh, good actually. We’ve been talking and clearing up a lot of the misunderstandings, and I think things are better.”
“Good.”
“Well, it was, you know…” She waggles her shoulders and gets a look on her face. “… nice to see you.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, mimicking the look and scratching the back of my neck.
Silence.
She points to her sister. “I should go.”
“Me too.” I step to the right the same time that she steps to the left and we end up smacking into each other.
“You first,” I say, moving out of the way and grabbing the handle of the glass door to keep myself from touching her again.
“Thanks,” she breathes. “Um, bye, Cole.”
If she looks back, I’ll say something. If she doesn’t, I’ll let it go.
I wait.
I wait some more.
She looks back.
Just once, right before she gets to Mara’s car. It’s a small swing of the eyes over her shoulder—so quick that if I weren’t already looking for it, I would miss it.
Still counts.
“Hey, Aimee!” I shout.
She turns fully, wipes a hand across her beautiful face.
I’d like to say something profound or great, but if those words are inside my head I can’t find them. All I can come up with is this: “I’m finally reading the Harry Potter books.”
“You are?” I can tell that she’s genuinely surprised. “Why?”
I move my head to the side like why-do-you-think.
“Which book are you on?”
“Three.”
Her eyebrows go up even further and a fragile smile tips the corner of her mouth. “I think that’s my favorite one. Do you like them so far?”
I spread my hands. “I’m not a douchebag, am I?”
She looks at me and it’s not so much the fact that she’s looking at me—it’s the way that she’s looking. Hope stirs in my chest. And when she breaks into laughter, it grows wings and takes off into the sky.