I Woke Up Beside My Childhood Crush

Then he knocked on my window. It was high, but he could just lean in.

I opened it and peered out. “Get lost.”

“Geez, why’s your AC so cold?”

“None of your business.”

I leaned close to his eyes. Back then his eyes were even lighter—near-amber, like wheat waving in the fields.

“You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t care.”

I didn’t, but my mom did. Evan tattled and my mom made me turn off the air. The troublemaker was gone.

That summer was unbearably hot. I sat under a tiny fan, sweating.

Just when I was fuming, he messaged: “Come to my house.”

“I have AC.”

Like a sly fox, he was shamelessly showing off.

9

In the end I gave in and went to his room. He smiled and lazily handed me a popsicle.

“I don’t want it.”

I scowled.

“I want it.”

He softened his tone. The cold, wet wrapper brushed my cheek and his words carried a meaning I didn’t question. I bit into the popsicle, the sound crunching.

It must have been near the end of vacation—cicadas thrummed through the hills. We played a game with the group, like hide-and-seek, and someone had to be “it.”

“Lily, you be it.”

Maya said to me.

“Why me?”

“If you don’t, we won’t let you play.”

She flashed a malicious smile. I might have walked away before, but that day I didn’t want to go home—I'd argued with Evan. He wasn’t there with us, and I didn’t want to show him that I’d been left out.

“Fine. I’ll be it.”

I closed my eyes and counted, then opened them to a wide field and endless sky. I felt abandoned again.

I searched for a long time. As the sun sank and geese cut the red clouds, I realized I’d been played.

Night fell and a light rain started. I’m a little afraid of the dark; something in the trees made a weird noise. I bolted and tripped, skinning my knee.

What a day.

I wiped tears and my phone exploded with missed calls—lots of them, including from Evan.

He called. His breathing was wild and urgent.

“Where are you?”

I looked around, rattling off a few landmarks.

“Wait for me,” he said.

I found a stone pavilion and sat waiting. The rain came harder; the world was quiet. I hugged myself, freezing. Rain soaked my scraped knee and it stung.

When Evan arrived he was drenched, maybe worse off than I was. He was breathing hard. As he approached, I’d never noticed how beautiful his eyes were—stars scattered across the night sky.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

“It hurts,” I said, pointing to my knee.

He crouched in front of me, turned his back to me without saying a word.

I clung to his neck. He swayed and hoisted me up, voice thick, “You’re so light.”

“See? I’m way lighter than Maya.”

I grabbed an extra thread on his collar, feeling dizzy.

He laughed once. “How do you manage to fight with everyone?”

“…”

I weakly punched him.

“They picked me as the ghost, they teased me, nobody took my side.”

I scooted up to his ear and said it, and he flinched away a little.

“Is that so? Then next time I’ll be the ghost with you.”

He walked with long, uneven strides, his voice drifting through the hazy, pelting rain.

“I’ll always be on your side.”

Never trust Evan Walker when he talks.

Because I had just had a fight with him.

We’d argued plenty since we were kids, but this one felt worse than usual.

A club friend of mine was really into bar-hopping.

She’d invited me out that night. I was already in a weird mood, so I said yes.

I hadn’t expected it to be a room full of strangers.

The music was cranked to the max, the lights slashed across the crowd and made faces hard to see. Gold streamers fluttered through bodies that cheered like they had no end.

I felt suffocated. I drank alone. When I turned around, my friend was gone.

The noise and chaos crowded in. I leaned back on a sofa, dizzy from all the smells, when someone suddenly closed in on me.

“Honey, wanna play?”

A hand touched my waist. I jumped and took two steps back, glaring.

“Get lost.”

“Ooh, spicy.”

Another voice from behind me, sharp and unpleasant.

That was when I realized how scary it is to be alone in a bar.

Their eyes slid over me with bad intentions, sticky and disgusting. I shivered.

Just as one of them stepped closer, my wrist was grabbed.

Evan didn’t hesitate—he pulled me straight out.

The bar lights flashed in quick stabs, so I couldn’t read his face.

But he was gripping my wrist so tight and moving so fast that I almost had to jog to keep up.

Outside, the noise faded. Streetlights streaked by like liquid. The early-summer wind wove between us.

He said nothing. We stood facing each other in silence.

He hardly ever looked this cold and impatient around me. After a bit, he turned and walked away.

I called his name from behind; he ignored me. I hurried a few steps but then stopped.

Watching his back disappear into the crowd, I fumbled for my phone and dialed. I half expected him not to pick up—then he did.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Doing what?”

“I mean—going to a bar—”

“I did go crazy. When your roommate called and told me you went to a bar alone, I skipped class.”

His tone was flat and sharp and somehow it pushed my emotions around like the tide.

“Going to the bar—what about it? I—”

“Fine. If you can go, then turn around and go back now, please.”

He cut me off, his voice heavier. I watched the lights on the street with a sinking feeling.

“Can’t you talk to me like a normal person, Evan?”

He was quiet for a long time.

“Never mind. I won’t bother with you anymore.”

A beep—the call ended.

I held my phone as the crowd flowed around me. I had assumed he’d be nearby waiting, but he was gone. He really left.

He said he’d always be on my side—what a liar.

I hadn’t spoken to Evan in a long time after that.

This silence felt longer than any cold war we’d had before. My gut told me something was different about him, but I couldn’t say what.

Only after he left did I realize how used I’d become to him being there.

Sometimes I’d stare at my contacts list with nowhere to vent. Sometimes I wanted to go out and didn’t know who to call.

I opened his name countless times but never dialed.

I assumed—even if I wasn’t there—that Evan would at least feel something off.

My roommate said I’d been distracted and suggested a trip to the new mall.

That’s where I saw him.

He was standing with a girl—tall, wavy hair, hot shorts. Her pale legs gleamed in the sunlight.

Her face looked familiar, and then the name hit me.

Maya Lin.

I’d heard from old neighborhood friends she’d changed a lot. Apparently she had.

She was tilting her head up, smiling at Evan in a way that made the curve of her mouth pretty.

Evan handed her a milk tea and listened quietly to whatever she was saying.

Maya had liked him for ages—always had.

Would he be with her? Were they already together?

My thoughts exploded and I couldn’t control them.

But I didn’t want Evan with Maya. I hated Maya. Hated her.

Why did he have to be with someone I loathed?

He’d said he was on my side.

Maybe my stare was too obvious, or maybe I just froze where I stood. My roommate called my name.

Maya spotted me.

Of course I still hated her—she loved to swagger in front of me, chin up, taking steps toward me like she owned the place.

“Isn’t this Lily Park? Long time no see.”

“…”

I ignored her.

I glared at Evan.

Ten days—no change. Wisps of hair fell over his forehead. Maybe my look was too sharp; he finally lifted his head.

Okay. He really felt nothing.

Amber eyes met mine and held, lips pressed together. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

I inhaled and, to my roommate’s and Maya’s shock, grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the mall.

The stairwell was drafty. I pulled him in and then, suddenly, didn’t know what to do next.

He’d grown taller than me since I’d last measured up to him. A faint light leaked through the slightly open fire door and his shadow coated me.

I tilted my head back; his gaze was fixed on me, unblinking.

Words failed me.

“Everything okay?” he asked first, impatient.

“Stay away from Maya. She’s not a good person.”

“Why do you like making up rumors about people?”

Cold, as if he were an observer. He sounded like he was defending Maya.

A nerve in me snapped hard.

“How is that making up rumors? Back then—when she and Xiao Si and the others ostracized me—you were there, you saw it—”

“That was ages ago, Lily. You hold grudges too much.”

You hold grudges too much.

I looked up, searching his eyes for anything, but there was nothing—he said it like he truly believed it.

Something in my chest tore and I felt a sharp ache. After a long moment I found my voice.

“Evan… didn’t you say you’d be on my side?”

His silence stretched.

“So you’ve grown up. You won’t stand with me anymore. Fine — you’ll date girls, why would you stand with me?”

I said it like it was revelation, nodded as if satisfied.

“Got it. Maybe we should go our separate ways.”

I patted his shoulder, playacting nonchalance.

“Thanks for getting me out of that bar, Evan.”

He stiffened, stunned for a second, then grabbed my wrist again.

“What do you mean?” His expression was odd—bewildered, a little panicked.

“Lily,” he said my name and pushed me toward the railing, step by step.

“What do you mean?” he demanded again.

“Nothing. Come on, Evan—Maya’s probably waiting—”

I tried to act normal and gave a big smile, but he held me tight.

In the dark, our breaths were loud. He leaned closer—so close his warm breath scorched my skin.

“You owe me a lot. And now you want to walk away?”

“When did I ever owe you anything?”

I fixed my eyes on him. He was less lazy than usual—tense, relentless.

“In senior year summer, you lent me sixty dollars for a Jinx skin and you still haven’t paid me back.”

“…”

His hand was on my waist before I knew it. He pinched.

“So when are you paying me back?”

“…”

It was true — I had forgotten. My fault.

I pulled up my phone and transferred $62 to his payment app.

“Is that good?”

“No.”

“Lily—”

He looked helpless, about to say something when I cut in.

“You’ve got anything else to add, say it. Settle it all, and we sever ties entirely. Tell our parents we’re done—never speak again.”

I said it dead serious. He went silent.

Honestly, I couldn’t understand how one fight had turned us into strangers.

Then I realized.

I kind of liked Evan. I had for a while, but I’d ignored it because he’d always been there.

When my roommate asked if I liked anyone, I couldn’t answer. It hit me: the one I liked had always smiled at me and stuck around, so I never felt insecure. I didn’t get emotional over little things because he’d rarely left my side.

Evan had always leaned toward me. For a long time. So maybe I thought I should let go.

The stairwell felt stuffy. I stared at him, unable to parse his feelings, and tried to push past him toward the door.

Suddenly he grabbed the back of my head, and then kissed me—roughly.

I’d always imagined a first kiss like a slow, shy brush under fireworks—light and gentle.

Not this—pinned, breath-stealing, fierce. I almost couldn’t breathe.

It was suffocating and wild; I felt like he wanted to destroy me if he couldn’t have me.

When it ended we both panted.

Who gives someone their first kiss like that?

He pressed his forehead into the hollow of my neck, braced his hand against the railing, and spoke, each word thick with something I couldn’t name.

“I won’t let you go.”

“I’ve watched over you so long—why would I let you go?”

After that day, I truly didn’t know how to face Evan anymore.

Luckily, our schools were close enough that if we avoided each other's campuses, we basically never ran into each other.

But when break hit and we went home, that wasn't guaranteed.

In past years we'd taken the same bus home together, but this year he didn't ask me, and honestly I couldn't think of a reason to go find him.

I kept telling myself that day Evan had kissed me because he was a little drunk.

By the end of the year I finally dragged my feet long enough to buy a ticket home.

My mom asked on the phone why I hadn't come back with "little Evan," and I made up some excuse to brush her off.

On the high-speed train I leaned my head against the glass until it hurt, and only then did it hit me how I used to sleep so soundly on trains.

Was I… always falling asleep on his shoulder?

I remember last time he pushed my head away with a finger, telling me to wake up — but he always called me to get up just before our stop.

Ugh, Evan.

My phone buzzed. I lifted it halfheartedly and my heart immediately dropped a beat.

A message from Evan.

"When do you get in?
I'll pick you up."

Followed by a droopy-eyed husky emoji.

It was our first contact in a month and a half.

How could he be so casual, so natural, so calm?

I stared blankly and typed back, then grabbed at my bangs in the tiny reflection of the window, even though he’d seen me at my messiest before.

Off the train, I spotted him right away.

He seemed to have cut his hair shorter, wearing a black coat with half his face buried in a scarf, leaving only a pair of pale, quiet eyes showing.

Tall, he stood in front of me, grabbed my suitcase, and wordlessly started walking.

He must be awkward, I thought. Maybe he was already regretting it.

I followed him silently.

We didn't speak on the subway either, each of us finding a spot to stand.

A few stops later a crush of people pushed in. I shifted back, eyes fixed on the heart sticker perched atop some performer's head.

The car lurched and I couldn't keep my balance — I stumbled hard into someone's arms.

Evan's hand came to my waist and didn't move.

He breathed a soft sigh against my ear.

But he didn't say anything, only wrapped an arm around my waist, his chin almost resting on my shoulder.

The subway was loud and crowded; I couldn't make out his face clearly or hear the punchlines of the comedian echoing through the car.

After some jolting, the robotic voice announced our stop. Evan hauled my suitcase forward and we moved on in silence.

Right at my front door he finally grabbed my wrist.

The thin light of the setting sun painted his cheek.

He wasn't looking at me. The stray hairs at the nape of his neck, normally dark black, caught a warm golden sheen.

"I don't know what to do with you, Lily Park."

"So?"

The words slipped out before I knew what I was thinking.

He pinched my wrist lightly. I didn't understand his move, so I looked up. His eyes held that brilliant, lingering sunset.

"So, I don't want to be your childhood friend, your playmate, or just your friend anymore."

"I want to be your—"

"Yo! Lily's back!
Your mom's out tonight, come over for dinner!"

Evan lived next door to me, door to door. His mom poked her head out to wave at us.

Evan clicked his tongue softly.

I'd been to their apartment plenty of times — after all, we'd grown up borrowing each other's air conditioners, comics, and game consoles.

I sat on their couch. He came up behind me and ruffled my hair.

"Why you sitting there like that? Acting like a guest, huh?"

"…"

"What kind of talk is that, you brat!"

Then his head unexpectedly bumped his mom's in a teasing gesture.

"You hungry, Lily? Tired from the train?
Auntie'll cut you some fruit, you wait there."

My mom and Evan's mom had apparently been best friends since college. Sometimes his mom was even sweeter to me than my own.

I hurried to my feet.

"No, no, Auntie, Evan and I were just discussing school stuff. We won't trouble you.
I've already apologized for grabbing extra dishes—"

I signaled at Evan, and he, playing along, tugged me toward his room.

"Mom, I'm going to show Lily my room. You do your thing."

Show me his room? Before I could roll my eyes, Evan pushed me into his room.

Truth be told, I'd been in his room plenty. It was a little messy: curtains half-drawn, the monitor still glowing, the door closed shut and the outside world fading away.

He leaned against the door, tilted his head at me, then called my name.

"Lily?"

His tone tipped up, playful.

I ignored him and glanced around. The bed wasn't made; a half-drunk soda and a scattering of medical journals lay on the desk. It looked like someone had been doing something and then been called away.

"Today, your mom told you to come pick me up, right?"

I asked softly, not confident.

"Hmm?"

He took a step closer.

So it wasn't that you wanted to pick me up yourself… it wasn't Evan trying to patch things with me, right… He stopped in front of me, one hand at my waist, the other guiding me back until I tumbled onto the bed. Before I fully registered it, he had me pinned.

Buried in his duvet, his scent flooded my nose. The intimate position was embarrassing enough; he pressed his nose to my hollow throat.

His slightly soft hair brushed my cheek, tickling.

His voice had sunk into a low tone I hardly recognized, edged with reckless despair.

"Yeah, I can't hold back anymore."

"Evan."

I said his name as I reached up to touch his face. His eyes were like a pool in late autumn, flecked with a galaxy of light.

"The night you went to that bar, I was really angry."

He looked at me earnestly, voice heavy.

"Lily, no man would protect you for so many years for no reason, okay?"

"…"

I stared up at him. I don't think I had ever seen him from this angle. There was a tiny mole at the outer corner of his eye — a speck like a star fallen from the sky.

"No man would protect Lily Park for so many years without reason. But Evan would."

I smiled and pushed him off, standing up.

He looked a little stunned by my words, a touch bewildered.

"You just don't have the courage. None at all, Evan."

You don't even dare to say you like me.

He narrowed his eyes, a warning glint, and stood up from the bed. He took a step toward me, about to speak, when voices sounded in the foyer.

Guests. High, excited voices — which could only be Maya Lin.

We're childhood friends and neighbors, and since Maya had just returned from studying abroad, it wasn't odd she'd drop by.

"Your other childhood friend is here," I teased.

He grinned and tousled my hair.

"So this childhood friend is jealous now?"

"Watch your mouth, Evan."

Gross-out contest avoided, because he was better at it than I was. He smoothed his expression and explained in a low voice.

"You went to that kind of bar alone. I was mad.
But I didn't leave. I waited right there."

"What about Maya? That day with you guys, was that a coincidence?"

"She came to see me that day."

"I just wanted you to know… that you matter to me, too."

"So you were with her on purpose?"

I glared. He meekly nodded.

"You accused me of holding a grudge and even defended her. I was wrong."

His apology had no sincerity.

"Later, I had a little regret."

He spoke lightly, squinting so you couldn't tell if he meant it.

Evan's mom seemed to be telling Maya something — maybe that Evan was still asleep — then the talk faded.

"Your mom doesn't like Maya?" I asked.

He reached up and fixed the hair clip perched on my head, leaning in to smile.

"Well, Lily is my mom's one and only designated daughter-in-law."

Nearing the New Year, the town's festive atmosphere thickened. On New Year's Eve after an early family dinner, a few childhood friends got together for late-night snacks.

Some of us had just finished our college entrance exams and were freshman now. After returning from university we were both changed and not changed. Evan, in crowds, turned into an icicle — quiet, trailing behind me.

Someone teased us.

"You two have been like this forever. Just get together already."

I laughed. Evan shot a cutting look at the asker. The guy shrank back, embarrassed.

The noisy group moved from the barbecue stand to karaoke. The antics were still childish — sloshing drinks and dares. After the hoopla, they started Truth or Dare. Everyone looked thrilled, except Evan, who seemed out of place.

Under layered lights and hazy darkness, he sat alone in the corner. The light in his eyes made him oddly luminous and shaded at the same time. In moments like this I could glimpse the side of him he kept hidden from me — until he noticed me.

He smiled, like light breaking into a corner of dark.

I lost interest in the games and drifted away toward him.

The crowd kept laughing and shouting, and everything about him felt severed off from the surrounding noise.

Evan — this person I'd known for nineteen years.

It felt like until now I'd never truly known him.

"Why won't you go play?" I asked.

"Lazy."

He leaned back and looked up at me.

"Then why come at all? You could just go home and watch the Spring Festival Gala."

He didn't answer; he just stared at me like that and I shifted uneasily.

"Lily, how old are you?"

He asked suddenly.

"Nineteen."

"Hmm."

There was a fine light in his eyes. He said with meaning,

"You're an adult."

Adult?

So what if I'm an adult…

At that moment the game group suddenly called my name.

"Lily!
Lily!
Come over!"

"What's up?"

I looked toward them.

"Someone landed on Dare — they have to confess to you!"

A ripple of playful jeers went up. In the center was a handsome, delicate-looking guy I didn’t really know well. That made me feel awkward.

The boy’s face flushed deeper and deeper. He gathered his courage and, in a small voice, said to me, “I like you.”

Four words, and I didn’t know how to respond.

A girl called out, “Lily, I think you kind of like him too. Why don’t you two just be together?”

I knew that girl — she’d confessed to Evan over the summer and got rejected.

As I remembered it, I hadn’t spoken much to him. I was about to say no.

Then someone grabbed my wrist.

“Sorry, this is my girlfriend.”

The voice beside me was candid and steady. After saying that, he pulled me out of the room. The people left inside froze, then broke into loud hooting.

We were sealed off in that small, stuffy karaoke booth; this place was kind of an old KTV. We’d been coming here for years for gatherings, so it felt like familiar ground.

He led me up. The metal stair creaked and clanged underfoot.

When we reached the rooftop, it opened up like a breath of fresh air.

It felt like we’d escaped to the other side of the world.

The city was still bright, a net of streetlights spreading far and wide.

I used to come up here with him just to feel the hazy summer wind or to throw around endless dreams.

“When did I become your girlfriend?” I asked suddenly.

He blinked, “Huh?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking, ‘When did I become your girlfriend?’ to me?”

“Oh.”

I didn’t look at him. The air was so clear tonight I could almost make out a few lonely stars.

“I’m your girlfriend now. Since you wouldn’t confess, we can just skip the whole confession part.”

“What do you mean I wouldn’t dare?”

He laughed and looked down at me. It felt like looking across a galaxy — brilliant and clear.

“I like you.”

Those four words were whispered against my ear, uttered with sharp clarity.

“Are you teasing me?” I tilted my head.

“No.”

“Are you joking?”

“No.”

“Even before…wasn’t any of it…?”

“All the times I told you I liked you — none of them were lies.”

It was like fireworks burst at the horizon.

I had wondered what kissing someone you love would be like — a sky full of falling sparks, a tangled ache, a brief, sweet taste.

It was like this.

Extra 1 — Grace Chen met Evan at a drinking party his dad forcibly dragged him to.

Apparently she was a distant cousin from way out in the country. He didn’t like her at first sight.

Her eyes were too sharp — it felt like she could see and catch everything.

Later, that hunch proved right.

In freshman year, Evan often came looking for his childhood friend, quietly kicking himself for not getting two more points on his entrance exam so he could’ve gone to her school.

Then he wouldn’t have to cross half the campus and invent reasons to see her.

Someone suddenly smacked his back.

He turned and, sure enough, saw a smiling row of bright teeth — his distant cousin actually went to the same school.

What she said next hit him like a thunderclap.

“You like her?”

She and he both looked toward the classroom. The girl with the bunny hairclip was propping her chin and staring blankly at the blackboard.

“Lily, right?”

He spun around, glaring down at her with murderous intent.

“No, I don’t like her. Don’t say that.”

“Oh—so it’s the ‘really like’ kind of like?”

But his cousin was more seasoned than he was. As etiquette club president, she’d dealt with all kinds of people; she wasn’t buying his act.

From the scraps of time they’d spent together, Evan learned it was best not to pick fights with her — she had a top-tier ability to smooth things over.

So he simply nodded.

“Have you tried pursuing her?”

Her eyes lit up.

“No.”

“Then go confess! Evan, your conditions are great. Why not try?”

He pushed her excited hand off his arm and pressed his lips together.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“What if she rejects me?”

Under the wavering sunset, he looked awkward and shy. His voice was soft and careful.

“I don’t want to lose even being friends.”

2 — That’s why Grace decided to help Evan.

In the noisy cafeteria, Evan stared at the three dishes and soup in front of him, a bit dumbfounded.

A lady from a prominent family treating him like this?

She seemed to know his thoughts. Unbothered, she speared a meatball and swallowed it whole, slurring a little as she spoke.

“Don’t be picky. At least there’s food.”

That etiquette club president stunned Evan to his core.

“First, we need to figure out one thing,” she finally said after chewing and sipping soup.

“Does Lily actually like you?”

Hearing that question made his heart thump.

Does she like me?

He lowered his eyes and thought for a long time. He wasn’t sure.

The answer, if he was honest, was that he liked her — really, really liked her — so much that whether she liked him felt secondary.

He thought if he couldn’t say it, he’d protect her forever.

“You’re not planning on being a coward forever, are you?”

She hit a nerve, and Evan frowned in annoyance.

“So what should I do?”

“Um…provoke her!”

His cousin pointed at the ceiling with her chopsticks like a sword.

The plan was ridiculous: if someone liked someone else, when that someone else had a crush, they’d act sad. So Grace would play the part of the object of affection, and Evan would test Lily’s reaction.

Evan found it sketchy.

“It might work. You’ll never know until you try!”

She clapped his shoulder hard; he dodged. He hated being touched by anyone except Lily.

…

And that’s how the scene Lily saw came to be.

Evan told Lily he liked Grace, watching to see what expression would cross her face.

She stared blankly, said “Hm, that’s nice,” and that was it.

No sadness, no anger, no surprise—no follow-up questions. She moved on and told him to eat the three-cup chicken while it was still hot.

His heart chilled.

He convinced himself she didn’t like him. If she had, why would they have been childhood friends for nineteen years without more? He felt a little indignant and unhappy.

Sometimes he couldn’t mask his feelings, and when he was upset it showed — which only made her pull away more.

She didn’t know that, lazy and shirk-y as he could be with most people, when it came to her he’d rehearsed every part and saved all his patience.

4 — Evan got Lily’s phone call while he was driving to the airport to pick up his cousin.

Her voice on the line was slurred and breathy, words half-spoken, rising and falling in strange pitches, repeating his name over and over.

“Lily?”

“Uh, Evan, I like you!!!”

Her sudden high-pitched shout made him yank the phone from his ear.

“Did you drink?”

He turned the wheel and made a U-turn, asking while he drove.

“Where are you?”

“Hee hee, Evan, hee hee, Evan, hee hee….”

She wasn’t listening at all. He sighed and tried to coax her.

“Can you hand the phone to the person next to you?”

“No,” she shouted.

There was a commotion in the background, and eventually someone else took the phone.

Her roommate gave a location. Evan grunted and drove there. He found Lily sitting dazed at a barbecue stand. When she saw him her eyes lit up.

“Evan!”

He thought of all those nights filled with cicadas and stars when a girl always tilted her face up and smiled at him.

Drunk people can be messy; she kept dragging him, saying she liked him. He looked at her, counting the stars in her eyes.

“Do you really like me?” she nodded wildly.

“Someone filmed this,” he heard.

The crowd was noisy. He didn’t want to be bothered by it. He pulled her toward the car.

“I don’t want to ride,” she said pitifully.

She got carsick.

He took her somewhere quiet and tipped her chin up.

“Your school is far. Can you walk?”

She shook her head.

“So what do you want?”

She shook her head again.

Her lashes drooped and her face was soft. He pinched her cheek, not quite satisfied, then bent down to soothe her.

“Want to come home with me?”

“Where’s your home?”

“Close by.”

“But I don’t want to walk.”

“I’ll carry you.”

He turned his back to her. She curled on his back, arms around his neck.

“Silly drunk,” he said.

“No I’m not.”

She nuzzled his ear, breath hot in his shell.

“I like you, Evan.”

The slurred words made his heart skip.

Too bad she was drunk. He wouldn’t trust the words of someone not sober, so he tried to change the subject.

“Lily, you’ve gotten heavier.”

“I like you.”

She refused to give up.

“I’m going to record this.”

“What’s a recording?”

“Recording is…um, you know, recording.”

“I like you too.”

A string tightened in his chest. He decided to take advantage of her tipsy bravery and tell her everything he’d never said.

“Really? How much do you like me?”

Her fuzzy head bumped his cheek, coming face to face with him.

“Very much.”

“How much is ‘very much’?”

“Like the stars liking the moon.”

“And?”

“Like the wild wind liking the riverbank.”

“And?”

“Like the sunset liking dusk.”

“I don’t get it.”

He turned and pressed her head down.

“I like you like that,” he said.