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He nods, accepting my answer. “I saved every piece of candy I got. Especially the peanut butter cups because I knew you liked those. We went through all the good neighborhoods — some of them twice — to fill my candy sack to the brim. Then, I snuck back to your house after, I climbed your tree, and I knocked on your window.”
“Also scary,” I joke.
“I gave you the bag,” he says, smiling at the quip. “I told you I was so, so sorry. Do you remember what you said?”
“I forgive you forever, Connor Morgan,” I say as if it were yesterday.
Connor nods. “You’re not breakable, Dana, but… I am so scared of hurting you. And today after… this morning…” His jaw fixes into a hard line. “I don’t want to hurt you like that again.”
“Connor, you’d never hurt me.”
“But I did.”
“Not on purpose.”
“That makes it worse, doesn’t it?” he says. “I mean, if I can cause that kind of damage without meaning to, imagine what I can do if…”
“You were just a kid. And I missed one night of tricks-or-treats. Hardly what I’d call permanent damage.” I smile, but Connor shakes his head. “It’ll take a lot more than a stupid boy in a mask to give me an asthma attack nowadays. And this morning…” I chortle. “A little sex isn’t going to do me in, either.”
“Still,” he says, swallowing hard. “What happened today shouldn’t happen again.”
I press my lips together. “Do you want it to?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“But do you want it to?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.” I hold his eyes. “Connor, I trust you. If I’m going to learn about sex from anyone, I want it to be you.”
He looks away again. I wish he wouldn’t. His hesitation is understandable, though. Our friendship is important to me, too. Always has been. Always will be.
I don’t want to hurt you like that again.
He won’t. I know he won’t.
If only I could prove it.
I glance forward through the windshield at the school in the dark. Beyond that building is… the football field.
I smile.
“Come on,” I say, detaching my seatbelt and opening my door.
“Wait. Where are you going?” he asks.
“Come on.”
I hop outside, closing my door before marching across the empty parking lot. Connor follows, his feet shuffling quietly as he catches up to me. His brow furrows, full of questions, but he says nothing. He stays close as I lead him around the building; a protective shadow. On these grounds, I’d say it felt nostalgic if we didn’t graduate only three months ago.
We reach the football field. Passing the bleachers, I head for the nearest end zone, taking several deep breaths to prepare myself for what I’m about to do. Have I ever done it before? No.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t.
I bounce on my toes, holding my head high as I stare down the field. One hundred and twenty yards.
“Race you to the other side,” I say to the protective presence beside me.
