The Girl He Used to Know

by Tracey Garvis Graves

My brain figured out what he meant a few minutes later and I yelled “Oh” loud enough to make Jonathan jump in his seat a little. “Were you flirting with me?” “I was trying to. I thought I was halfway decent at it, but now I’m not so sure.” “Jonathan?” He took his eyes off the road for a second and looked over at me. “I totally thought you were flirting. I was just making sure.”

“I don’t like shoes.” He let out a short laugh but it sounded kind. “Yeah, I gathered that.” “They feel restrictive and I can’t wiggle my toes.” “What do you do in the winter?” “Suffer in boots.”

“Do you know how sometimes you think of the perfect rebuttal but by the time you come up with it, it’s hours later?” she asks.

‘A woman is like a tea bag; you never know how strong it is until it’s in hot water.’

I wonder if she remembers how it felt to be in love with me. I haven’t forgotten how it felt to be in love with her.

“The only thing I’ll regret is passing up another opportunity to find out if we have what it takes to go the distance. I thought we were going to build a life together after college, but you changed your mind. Don’t you think it’s time we talked about it? Because if you’re going to avoid the hard stuff, no matter how unpleasant the memories, I’m not sure how we’re going to do this. And I want to do this. Very much. Do you?”