If He Had Been with Me

by Laura Nowlin

I do not love him the way I love Jamie. It’s not the way I love Sasha or my mother or Mr. Laughegan. It’s the way I love Finny.

“And anyway, I don’t think Sylvie would appreciate it if you fought Jamie to defend my honor.” “Yeah,” Finny says. His face is still turned away. “I’d do it anyway though.”

I know what I am feeling. I know that it is real, and in this moment, there is nothing else in me but this knowledge. I’m in love with Finny.

I’ve loved him my whole life, and somewhere along the way, that love didn’t change but grew. It grew to fill the parts of me that I did not have when I was a child. It grew with every new longing in my body and desire in my heart until there was not a piece of me that did not love him. And when I look at him, there is no other feeling in me.

“Do you remember in fourth grade,” Finny says, “when we read Charlotte’s Web in class and you cried?” “Yes. Do you remember when that baseball hit you in the head?”

“Can I tell you that I love you first?” Finny says. I begin to fall slowly, slowly down.

“Come on, Autumn,” he says. He makes a sound that isn’t quite a laugh. “I know that you know I’ve been in love with you for forever. You don’t have to pretend.”

“But if I have the chance to be with you—God, Autumn, you’re the ideal I’ve judged every other girl by my whole life,” Finny says. “You’re funny and smart and weird. I never know what’s gonna come out of your mouth or what you’re gonna do. I love that. You. I love you.”