“I heard the door at the far end of the hallway swing open. Then I heard familiar footsteps approaching. After going to three different schools for seven years, I knew it was Mark.

“Hi, Mark,” I said.

“Hey, pal. I thought I’d find you here,” Mark said.

I sighed wearily.

“Did you find her?” Mark asked tentatively.

“Yeah.”

“Did you tell her how you feel?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“What did she say?”

I turned around to face my best friend. Concern born of seven years’ worth of friendship was written on his open face. Whatever his faults, you could never accuse Mark of being unconcerned.

“I – ah – wrote her a letter,” I said slightly embarrassed.

“I see,” he said quietly. He pursed his lips. “Did she say anything?”

“I asked her not to read it until after commencement.”

“I see,” he said again. I could tell he was disappointed in me.

There was another one of those awkward silences. I felt oddly like a mischievous schoolboy who’d been sent to the principal’s office for some infraction of the rules. Mark just shook his head in disbelief and gave me a tut-tut look.

“You know,” he said quietly, “sometimes playing it safe can be the worst thing you can do.”

“Macht nichts,” I said bitterly.

“Like hell, macht nichts, pal. It makes a hell of a difference, if you ask me.” Mark shook his head sadly. “I really don’t want to be there when you find out for yourself what a stupid mistake it is that you made today.”