Near Miss

by Haley Warren

I feel it in my chest—strolling across my rib cage and planting itself there, kicking its little feet right alongside the still-too-fast beating of my heart. I forget I ever wanted to be alone.

“I think you should order Beckett Davis’s dick for breakfast.” I narrow my eyes at her before shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t think the nutrient profile in dick is quite enough for a balanced breakfast, but thank you for the suggestion.”

She looks at me like I’m something—not nothing—but she’s not quite sure what. As she should. Because I think I look at myself like that—I’m something, not nothing—but I’m not quite sure what either.

The sunlight hits her and, not for the first time, I think about the fact that she’s beautiful, but she has no idea.

I don’t bother telling her that last night was the first night I’ve slept through since preseason ended. That the weight of everyone else’s expectations didn’t feel so heavy because I felt enough for her.

If my life were one of the books I read, it would be explained by the presence of Beckett, this person made just for me by whatever benevolent gods ruled the sky.

“You don’t have to be alone to be enough.”

don’t mean to fall in love with her. I try pretty hard not to, actually.

“Who is that? Is that your girlfriend?” Just the love of my life.