Old Enough

by Haley Jakobson

They started running. Very fast. Backpack bucking against their shoulders. Toward me. Wesley was out of breath by the time they got to me. I guess I could have met them halfway, but the thought of them seeing me run gave me pre-embarrassment. Also, I didn’t want to give them the impression that we were having a cinematic, mega-romantic run-toward-each-other-in-a-field kind of moment. Because I was pretty sure it was just a running-toward-a-friend-in-a-field kind of moment.

internal monologue bout dumb as hell