Forgotten First Kiss

“Well, then you admire yourself.”

“Me?”

I nodded, but before I could elaborate, they brought in her lunch. Then, doctors swarmed in, so I made for the exit.

“Jeremy? When are you coming back?”

“The next time you ask me.”

“But last night—”

I left, toting my now-empty paper bag, which had proved to me exactly what I’d been hoping: that Danica could let go of old hates and change her mind. Not only that, she’d asserted her new opinions could be permanent.

If she could love milk chocolate, maybe she could change her mind permanently about me.