I dip my head. “I’d liked you for a long time, Gage. It killed me to let you go at graduation. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“How long?” Gage asks gruffly.
“How long what?”
“How long had you liked me?”
“Since your fourteenth birthday party,” I admit.
Gage chuckles wryly and runs a hand through his hair. “Since sophomore year for me,” he says. “I wish I had known. You never gave any indication.”
“That was on purpose. I didn’t want you to know. What if … what if you didn’t like me back?”
“And at camp? You really wanted a summer fling?”
I shake my head slowly. “Not really.”
He scoffs. “Me neither, but it’s what you said you wanted. It’s what you asked for.”
“And you agreed,” I point out.
Gage groans.
“Okay we’re about out of time for today,” Dr. Francine interrupts. “But I think it’s become clear that the two of you need to work on communicating your feelings to each other better. Here’s your homework: every day until we meet again in two weeks, I want you each to tell the other something about what you’re feeling. I know you’re both busy, and you don’t necessarily see each other every day, so feel free to text, call, email, whatever works. Texting might actually be easier at first.”
Gage:
What I’m feeling today is that I miss you. Classes are kicking my butt
Olivia:
I’m feeling hungry
Gage:
Hunger isn’t an emotion
Olivia:
Still counts
Gage:
Nope
Olivia:
Okay fine
Olivia:
I’m feeling excited about doing a soccer unit with the kids next week
My third period class of eighth graders is gathered in front of me on the PE field at Brightline as I walk them through the context for the soccer skills lesson I’ve prepared on shooting goals.
“Okay, so the goalie is here.” I set an orange cone in front of the goal to the right of the center. “And if a player kicks the ball from here …” I place another cone in a spot about twelve yards away from the goalie, more to the left.
“... what angles are going to work best for the player to kick the ball into the goal, assuming they kick it in a straight line and the goalie doesn’t move?” I grin. “Which is not going to happen in a real game, by the way.”
