Older

by Jennifer Hartmann

“You’re crying,” he said, after a long beat had trudged by. I nodded and squeaked out, “Yes.” “Because I kissed you? Or because I stopped?” Swiping the salt off my cheekbones, I turned to look at him, his face bathed in moonglow and dashboard light. Then I swallowed, heaving in a broken breath. “Because…I didn’t get to dance.” I almost laughed. But I was too sad to laugh. He frowned in confusion, studying me. “What do you mean?” I shrugged, forcing a small smile. “Prom,” I told him. “We didn’t dance.” His eyes skimmed my face as he continued to read me, drinking in my silly tears. Then he nodded once, reached over my lap, and popped open the glove compartment. I tilted my knees to the side and watched as he sifted around for something before pulling out a cassette tape. He slipped it into the tape deck, fiddling with some buttons, and turned the volume all the way up on the dial. “Come on,” he said before opening his door and stepping outside. I sat there frozen for a moment as music spilled from the speakers. A slower, dreamy song. I didn’t recognize it…until I did. It was a cover of Save the Last Dance for Me. I remembered sitting on Jay’s bed, mentioning the song to him while we sorted through CDs. “There’s a really good cover of that song by Harry Nilsson,” he’d said to me. The tears dried up on my cheeks as the concrete in my chest melted into slush. A smile pulled on my lips, and I pushed open my door, sliding out as my heels connected with earth. I joined him on the...

😭😭😭😭😭