“Hey,” I say, trying to contort my face into something resembling a smile. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Yeah.” Adam is looking at his shoes, scuffing them against the concrete.

“Do you wanna sit?” I ask, gesturing to the bench. Our bench.

We sit and I stare at the path in front of us. The path where we first kissed. It feels like a million years ago. It was a million years ago.

“Sorry that we haven’t really been able to talk at school,” I begin, heart pounding in my chest like it’s going to flop out and die on the path where it first felt full. “I just—it’s been kind of a crazy two weeks with football and classes and my mom getting on my ass about college applications—”

“It’s fine, Caleb, I get it,” Adam interrupts, and I hit a wall over and over again. “I’m actually kind of surprised you wanted to talk to me at all.”

“Of course I wanted to talk to you,” I say, “I miss you.”

“Yeah,” he says, “so you texted.”

It’s like we’re back where we started except worse. I can barely feel anything from him, my own nerves drowning everything else out.

“Didn’t you…” I don’t want to ask the question but I have to know or I might die. “Did you miss me?”

I immediately regret it and rush to put the words back into my mouth.

“No, never mind.” I wave my hands around like that will literally clear the air between us. “Forget I asked—”

“Yeah, Caleb,” he says, and the wall cracks slightly. “Of course I missed you. Can’t you—can’t you feel that?”

I feel an aching longing, yeah, but I’ve felt that all summer. I have no way of knowing if it’s his or if it’s mine. I explain this to him and he repeats himself.

“I have missed you,” he says, breathing life back into me. “A lot.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’ve said that yet. I’m really sorry.” I can feel a rant building but I don’t care, I have to get this out. “I freaked out and fucked everything up and I know I’ve been a shitty boyfriend—” My breath catches in my throat as any tentative hope is crushed under the weight of reality. “Well, I guess I haven’t been much of a boyfriend at all and I just … I’m sorry, okay?”

Every word I say is like a small hammer chipping away at his walls but I’ve barely made any progress. He pivots his body away from me and it stings.

“What do you want from me, Caleb?” he asks wearily. “I don’t hear from you for months and then you stand up for me with Bryce and now … Why did you ask me to meet you?”