Blake
I was pretty sure they played the movie. Didn’t know. Didn’t care. I spent the two hours when I might have been watching the on-screen guy woo his girl feeling like I was the star of my own romance. In my fictional universe where I got the girl, I wasn’t about to glance away for a second to see if the world was imploding around us.
Kissing every inch of Rebecca’s skin had been a dream but never a goal—goals implied a concrete way to achieve them.
I had no game and no plan.
I was okay with the way high school would unfold, with her shining brightly and me plodding along, waiting to grow a few inches and enter a phase of life when being smart was more important than being a good-looking jock. In other words, college or sometime later.
After a year of driving my car and wondering w
