By the end of October, Theo and I had developed a system.
We met after class when our schedules lined up. We shared meals. We kissed sometimes, usually when there was nobody else around and we'd run out of reasons not to. We didn't tell anyone we were dating because neither of us had used that word.
I wasn't sure I wanted to call it dating. That was the problem.
The more I liked Theo, the more I worried that naming it would make it fragile. I knew how to flirt. I knew how to kiss. I knew how to turn an awkward moment into a joke. I didn't know how to promise something without feeling like I'd put my hand on a hot stove.
Theo seemed to understand that. He never pressed me, but he never pretended not to notice when I backed away.
One evening, we watched a terrible horror movie on my lap
