"Are you coming??" he texted me.
"I'm on my way."
I was excited to see him at the football game--my school against his. I had been waiting to see him ever since we started becoming friends again. I wasn't exactly sure what my feelings for him were, but I was sure that seeing him again would help me figure them out. I had spent a countless amount of time fantasizing what the first time seeing him after the summer would be like. It was always dramatic and involved a hug and some sort of inspirational one-liner. Then we had planned to sit together in the bleachers.
Well, we hugged.
Then I ran away.
. . .Yeah, you heard that right.
Everything had been leading up to that moment. That moment I had imagined that our eyes would sparkle and my heart would jump and that dramatic one-liner would make history. But I saw him, and we stood there for probably two minutes, and I had a really cruel reality check: it wasn't real. I mean, I was there, and he was there. But all of my fantasizing and conversation script-writing had turned him into someone he wasn't in that lovely mind of mine. What I had re-imagined him to be, and what he actually is, were completely different people.
When I saw him in that plaid shirt that he was always obsessed with, I remembered who he is, and why we stopped being friends in the first place.
So I ran away. I told him to sit in his bleachers and I would sit in mine. I had to face it; we live in different worlds now.
Our team lost 14-47.
I saw him one more time that night. Neither of us said a word.
The Case of the Stolen Bracelet
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