Sitting cross-legged, talking and eating, recounting tales from the summer, I think this is not infatuation. This is love. I’m sure of it. I love you. I’ll always remember this day because it’s the first time I understand what it means to love a boy. Chad clears his throat. “Something I want to tell you.” “What?” You love me too? He pauses for a beat longer than expected, thoughtfully weighing what he wants to share with me. Our knees almost touch when I say, “Tell me.” Tell me you love me too. “I dated a girl while I was in Germany. Nothing serious. But… you know. I thought I’d just tell
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