THIRTY-FIVE
ROWAN It was Sunday morning and Nate and I were walking around Battery Park. He was holding Stanley’s leash in one hand with the other tucked in his pocket. My hand was curled around Nate’s bicep as he led us both around. I liked this. The feeling that I finally had someone to hold on to. But it was fleeting. What if he grew tired of me? What if he left me? I tried, but failed to push all those doubts down. It was as if something deep inside me knew that this wouldn’t last. That Nate would abandon me too. And yet, no matter how much that little voice whispered that I was getting my hopes up, my stupid little heart still pitter pattered every time Nate looked my way. I glanced up at his side profile. His jaw was strong, his eyes bright, his hair a little longer than usual and curling a
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