No One But Us

by Elizabeth O'Roark

“If I’m so pretty,” I blurt out, “then why was kissing me such a mistake?” He hesitates. “Elle, you’re 19. I just…don’t see you that way.” I feel like I’ve been hit. Not that I hadn’t surmised as much by the way he practically ran screaming from the restaurant when it happened, but still… It hurts. “So you’re not attracted to me?” I ask. “There isn’t a straight male alive who isn’t attracted to you,” he says hoarsely. “So what’s the problem?” I persist. I hate myself for pushing this, but on the other hand, it seems there’s nothing left to be lost. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can find someone attractive and still not want to be with them,” he finally says. “Ouch,” I say quietly. “You can’t take it personally. You can have anyone alive.” “Not anyone,” I say, meeting his eye. “Not the person I want.”