Cupids Peak

by Lee Jacquot

Hell, now that I think about it, I haven’t liked a guy as much as I did this one from my senior year in high school. The funny thing about him was that we never even dated.

My intentions were there, but the execution wasn’t, which is why I finished high school having to admire my girl from a distance. I watched her kill it at the top percent of our class and give an inspiring, heartfelt speech during our graduation. She’d struggled to start at first. Her eyes were darting around, her hands fisting the edge of her gown while she shifted from foot to foot. But then, out of nowhere, those brown eyes landed on me, and she started speaking as if it was just her and I in the whole damn stadium.

One of his shoulders lifts half-heartedly. “The only attention I ever wanted, I’m getting right now.”

“I’ve had a thing for you since freshman year when I overheard you and your sister talking about who you’d fuck-marry-kill when it came to the cast of The Breakfast Club.”

“I dare you to let me show you how obsessed I was with you ten years ago.”

That even after all these years, I haven’t found anyone who makes me smile or laugh or feel at home the way you did?”

“I want to know you’re sure because this has been brewing for a very long time, and I intend to take everything you’re willing to give me. And I expect you to take everything I give.”