the floor. See me, see me, see me. Finally, he does. And our gazes snag. They always do. There isn’t Brittany, Emily, Sara, or Carol. It’s me, Cliff, and his blue eyes. Cliff and the little line in the corner of his mouth that deepens when he starts to smile. Cliff and the barely there bend in the bridge of his nose. Cliff and the small scar above his upper lip that I traced with my fingertips. Cliff and his tense jaw. “Because I’m really confused about us…”
