Five Feet Apart

by Rachael Lippincott

My fingertips reach up, shaking, as I touch his lip print on the window. His final kiss good-bye.

Her laugh. It tinkles like bells, and I pull out my phone immediately, certain I’ve left the video playing in my pocket. But the screen is dark, and the sound isn’t tinny or distant. It’s just a few feet away. My legs know I should just go, board my flight, keep moving. But my eyes are already searching. I have to know. It takes me about six seconds to spot her, and I’m not even surprised that when I do, her eyes are right on mine. Stella was always the one to find me first.

I’m practically a different Stella. Except for one thing. I smile at him, and take just that one more stolen step, until we’re five feet apart.