How old were we? I had to have been a senior in high school at the time, so at the most eighteen, and I think he’d just turned fifteen a few months earlier. A few hours before his first real ‘date,’ he cornered me outside the bathroom we shared, breathless as if he’d just run up the stairs to find me. “Brian, hey,” he said, shaking the hair from his face.
I was at the sink, frowning at myself in the mirror and hating the jealous twinge that ran through me every time I thought of Joey and his little girlfriend at the movies. Holding hands, sharing a soda, kissing…even then, I wanted him all to myself. Because I didn’t want to admit it, I couldn’t, I settled for glaring at his reflection in the mirror behind me and didn’t bother to turn around to talk to him. When it became obvious he wasn’
