Dear Miss Gibson, I thought about you all weekend. I thought about the dress you wore at homecoming. I thought about the way your hair swept across your shoulders in a ponytail and how I desperately wanted to push it away. I thought about how your legs looked in those heels, even more gorgeous than normal. I thought about how I wished I could have taken your hand and shared a dance with you on the dance floor. And then . . . I thought about our kiss. And now, I’m thinking about how I can spoil you on our date, so that maybe . . . I can feel your lips against mine again. Have a great day. Arlo
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