When I saw her again I was brought back to high school. Both of us were waiting for the late bus to take us home because we’d spent the whole afternoon talking in the halls. It was worth it to stay behind. The chance to meet amazing people was almost as attractive at seeing North Hunterdon’s halls empty for a change.
I had no idea what seductive was then, but it was her. The other students would give me strange looks because they received the messages she was sending. I had never caught on to the sexual wavelength. I think she took it as irresistible indifference.
She would, in time, tell me her sad story, and I would, as I am wont to do, fuck it up with an insensitive remark because I was too immature to cope with someone else’s tragedy. Continue reading