It’s 1:35 on a Saturday afternoon, and I’m pacing inside the National Gallery of Art, waiting for Milo to arrive and wishing that I’d worn my comfy flats instead of the new suede loafers that I haven’t had time yet to break in. Milo’s birthday was three days ago, and I usually treat him to lunch at Bob’s Noodle House because their fried pork chop over rice is his favorite, but this year I asked him to meet me downtown instead. There’s a free concert here at two—a string quartet will play a selection by Adrian Gogic—and my heart did a little zing when Milo said that he’d come, even though I knew he would because Gogic is one of his favorite composers.

I’ve been anxious all week leading up to this non-date, and I even made my sister drive me into D.C. today because the Metro is always running late. But now I’m pacing around the museum’s sunny atrium and wondering if I have the guts to go through with my big plan. Milo and I have been friends since we met in middle school orchestra, and I’ve had a crush on him for just about as long. It’s the sort of secret that keeps me awake at night, aching from the inside out as I imagine him sweeping me into his arms and pressing his lips to mine so softly that Romeo himself would say, “Now, that’s a kiss.” And I’d think, One day I’ll tell Milo how I feel.

I was going to do it at eighth-grade graduation.

Then at his parents’ Christmas party our freshman year.

Then at the statewide orchestra competition this past winter.

I kept nudging one day down the calendar because I figured I had time, but then last month Milo found out that he got into the new fine arts magnet program on the other side of our county. Starting next school year, we won’t play in the same orchestra anymore or study for biology together or swap snacks at lunch, trading his barbecue potato chips for my wasabi-flavored dried seaweed.

One day has to start now.

My phone buzzes, and I’m feeling so jittery that I nearly drop it. It’s a text from my sister, Thea, who drove over to Eastern Market after she dropped me off.

Good luck with Milo, but I still think you should tell him flat out that you like him. Or maybe go in for a kiss? Seize the day, sis!