When We Collided

by Emery Lord

Her laugh sounds like wind chimes. I don’t know what I said that was funny. She stands on her tiptoes to slide an apron over my head.

child? I don’t want to be another person he has to care for. I want to be someone he cares about.

Here is something I never expected to feel: love at first sight for an entire family. But life surprises you. It tells you to close your eyes and blow out the candles, and then sometimes smashes your face into the cake before you can even make a wish.

He takes out her low ponytail, gathering her hair into a little bun at the top of her head. It’s sloppy but second nature, his hands twisting the hair tie. The sweetness aches somewhere in my ribs. It could wreck a girl—this handsome guy, shirtless in the summer sun, making sure his little sister’s neck won’t get burned.

That’s the thing they never tell you about love stories: just because one ends, that doesn’t mean it failed. A cherry pie isn’t a failure just because you eat it all. It’s perfect for what it is, and then it’s gone. And exchanging the truest parts of yourself—all the things you are—with someone? What a slice of life. One I’ll carry with me into every single someday.