“You got a better one?” Serenity asked me.
“Elliott,” I told her.
“That name is just as bad as mine,” she said, and she laughed quietly. The teacher started taking roll call, but Serenity ignored her and she whispered to me. “Come over after school.”
I don’t remember what I said at first, but she just shrugged and looked at me.
“We can have bad names together,” she told me, as if that made perfect sense, as if it was silly I hadn’t considered it myself.
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. It was the beginning of the best, most wonderful friendship of my life. It was the beginning of a friendship I should have turned into a romance long ago, but was too scared to.
It was the beginning.
And this is the end of that friendship, I realize. When I kiss Sassy, when I press my lips to hers, I’m saying goodbye to Serenity. I’m saying goodbye to the sweet little girl I grew up with and I’m saying hello to Sassy McMittens: pole dancer extraordinaire. I’m saying goodbye to my buddy and saying hello to my wife. I’m ending the friendship. I’m making it something more.
And oh, it’s going to be something more.
Sassy hesitates only for a fraction of a second when I kiss her. She hesitates only just for a brief moment, and then she kisses me back like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She kisses me like she means it, like she can’t stop, like she can’t control herself.
She kisses me like there’s never been anyone else.
“Serenity,” I whisper, murmuring against her lips.
“Sassy,” she corrects me.
“Serenity,” I whisper again.
“What?”
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“You know what I want to hear you say, baby.”
“Yeah,” she pulls back and presses her hand to my cheek. “I know what you want to hear me say.”
She presses her forehead to mine, then, and says the words I’ve been longing to hear. Every day of deployment, I thought of her whispering these words to me. I thought of how she would sound telling me how much she cared for me. I thought of the way her lips would look when she spoke. I thought of how perfect everything would feel.
The reality is so much sweeter.
“I love you, Elliott,” she says, and then Sassy kisses me again. Her lips are soft and sweet against mine. She’s a delicate flower to my harsh exterior, but I love her, and the knowledge that she loves me in return just makes my heart soar.
“I’ve waited so long to hear you say it.”
“Why did you wait?”
“Why did you?” I ask, pushing her. I shouldn’t. It’s not the time or the moment, but I have to know.
Was she as scared as me?
As worried as me?
Was she as nervous I would reject her as I was?
“You already know.”
“You were scared?”