It’s been half a year since I’ve seen him.
I sashay down the soccer field, partially because my slightly heeled shoes are sinking into the damp ground, partially because I’m aware that the eyes of an entire high school student body are on me. And for good reason, too; the last time I was here, I was about ten pounds heavier with stringy, frizzy hair and dark glasses that hid my face. I have changed over the course of the last semester and I know it. Now, my old friends and classmates know it, too.
He’s sitting on the grass in a circle with a group of random students, people he wouldn’t normally be hanging out with. Obviously, the teachers in charge of today’s student recreation day had created small groups of students who didn’t really know each other in an attempt to promote close student community.
I’m a second away from sashaying past him with a weak smile on my face when I remember that all the insecurities and fears and boundaries that used to keep me from talking to him no longer exist.
“Hi, Andrew!” I say, my hands on my hips.
He stares up at me, his mouth open as he gurgles hello back to me.
“Aren’t you going to give me a hug?” I cringe inwardly at how cocky that must have sounded, but he obediently stands up and wraps his arms around my newly-beautiful self.
The thoughts running through his mind become as obvious as my own and I am more sure than I have ever been that he is 1) attracted to me and 2) wondering if I am available.
I have been waiting for this hug for years.
