Jack stares at me, unblinking, those mesmerizing hazel eyes he possesses haunting my present as they’ve always haunted my past. When he wasn’t looking at me, which was typically all the time because what would interest him about his best friend’s little sister, I used to study his irises. An emerald flecked with gold, the color of a sunset, swirled together to make the most attractive twist. He looks grown up since I last saw him, which is ironically about four years ago to this day, if I think about it. Except thinking about that night makes me burn with shame, rejection, and fury. How the
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