I'm sitting on your bed watching you rub lotion downs your arms. The smell of vanilla turns around and sits on your green blanket next to me.
"Hopefully you don't have to carry me home this time."
I focus on your face to see you smiling.
"Remember? When I got that burr in my foot and you piggybacked me all the way home?"
"Oh right! Yeah."
I laugh with you. Your freckles are like a spray of sand wind-whipped across your face.
Your eyes widen, looking behind me and you wave out the window.
I look out and my heart falls.
"Periwinkle!" Your boyfriend shouts his stupid nickname for you joyfully.
You run to the front door and into his arms.
I knew he was coming today. I was just hoping against hope he wouldn't. Maybe he would get the flu or have to look after his brother or just not want to come.
But here he is.
He swings you around before putting you down and lifting a hand to his forehead. It shades his face so he can see me walk up behind you.
His smile looks so genuine. His eyes are sparkling and his hair is flopping over his eyebrows. I wish I could hate him.
I smile back.
The hardest part is seeing him look at you. Seeing him love you. It's how I would look at you. You're happy and I wish you weren't. I'm sorry. The worst part of loving you is wishing no one else did.