I Hope This Doesn’t Find You

by Ann Liang

“So you’re blushing and stuttering over Julius Gong, while Ray Suzuki is being sincerely appreciative of you,” Abigail remarks, her brows raised. “Bizarre. Truly, absolutely bizarre. Next thing you know, Ms. Hedge is going to start advocating for underage drinking and Rosie is going to declare that her lifelong dream is to become a nun.”

I’ve always been a fast learner.

Couldnt be me…

“See, you’re saying that, but your tone strongly suggests otherwise.”

Julius Gong is dead to me, I vow silently. If I think about him again— If I so much as look at him, then I deserve to be pelted with ice. • • • I deserve to be pelted with ice.

Abigail and I never fight. She’s too chill about everything, and I’m too afraid of confrontation.

It’s somewhat difficult to hear him over the sound of my dignity splintering into a thousand pieces.

“The roof is leaking,” he gasps. “I was doing my skincare routine and I felt a splash of freezing water on my arm.” “Since when did you have a skincare routine?”

I can’t even believe the words coming out of my own mouth, but it feels good. I’m so tired of playing nice, of smiling as people walk over me. What I’m realizing is that if you’re quiet about the things that hurt you, people are only going to mistake your tolerance for permission. And they’re going to hurt you again and again.

“Wait, Julius and Sadie kissed each other?” someone asks. “Why am I so behind on the gossip? How did I miss this?”

“You have to understand . . . If you knew the effect you had on me, how often I think about you, the things I would do for you . . . I wouldn’t stand a chance against you ever again. You would have taken everything from me,” he goes on in a rush, like the words are burning him from within, like he has to get it out before the pain becomes overwhelming. “Not just a debating championship or some points for a test or a fancy award or a spot in a competition—but my whole heart. My pride. God, my sanity. It would be all over. You would annihilate me.”

Because I’m willing to lose everything,” he says, his eyes blacker than the surrounding darkness, than the sky outside, “so long as I don’t lose you.”

“I choose you,” I say quietly, glad for the shadows concealing my flushed cheeks. For the support of the wall behind me. “You’ll always be my first choice, Julius Gong.”

“It’s us, Sadie,” he says, like that’s answer enough. “When have we been bad at anything?”

“But I’ll also understand if you’re still angry and want to drop me or violently smash a cake in my face—”

“Is this one of those jokes where you say you’re the surprise because your presence itself is a gift?” “No, though I’m very flattered you think so,”

In retrospect, it makes sense, doesn’t it? In order to beat the enemy, you have to understand them intimately. You have to observe them, learn their weaknesses, memorize their every word, track their progress, predict their next move. For ten years I thought I was preparing to destroy you, when really I was preparing to love you. All of which is to say I really hope this finds you. And I hope you find me too. Sadie

You were right, Sadie Wen. I am completely, helplessly obsessed with you. Love, Julius