Don't Be In Love

by Liana Cincotti

He nodded and dug something out of his pocket. Walking right underneath the balcony, he tossed the item high in the air, catching me off guard. I threw my hands out and cupped the item between my palms as if I was trying to grab a guppy leaping from a pond. ​Stepping back under the cover of the balcony above my head, I opened my hands and found a telephone booth keychain. It wasn’t the red ones I passed every day on my way to campus though. This was painted a blue-gray and had small streams of green that ran from the top to resemble vines. It matched the keychains hanging from my purse. ​You did this? I let it dangle from my fingers and stared at him in awe. ​It’s just something small. He scrunched his nose. My chest filled with earnestness. I was a teddy bear stuffed with handknit hearts. I twisted, glimpsing at my purse. Before I could second guess it, I grabbed one of the keychains off my bag and ran out of the apartment, retracing my steps to his outside. “What are you—” I cut off his question with a suffocating hug. The umbrella shuttered above us. Then, it fell altogether at our side as he wrapped his arms around me. I breathed in the cold rain smell coating his hair and let the side of my face absorb the scent. My hands found the back of his neck and my heart found his. I squeezed, and he squeezed back. “Thank you. So much,” I whispered. “That was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”