For All You Have Left

Chapter Two Last Day

“This is the last kiss that I’m ever gonna give you — at this locker,” Andrew announces.

I look up at him. He’s wearing a wide grin.

“Well, you better make it a good one then,” I say.

His grin quickly turns mischievous, and he doesn’t even bother looking around to see who’s watching. He just touches one hand to the back of my neck and the other to the small of my back, and he leans in. I close my eyes and instantly feel his shallow breaths on my lips. It feels raw and unscripted as he moves his tender lips over mine. And then he slips his tongue into my mouth, leans farther into me and kisses me harder. He plays with my tongue, and I kiss him back as my stomach does a somersault. And after a few more exhilarating moments of his breaths and his lips and his tongue, his kiss breaks from my lips, and he presses his forehead against mine.

“How was that?” he whispers.

I feel my lips start to edge up my face and into a wide smile. It’s his answer, and he knows it.

“I love you so much, Logan,” he whispers into my ear.

Then, before I can say anything, he slaps my butt and walks away.

“Get a room,” I hear a boy from across the hall yell out to Andrew.

Andrew doesn’t even bother to look back. “That’s a great idea,” he says, right before he disappears down another hallway. “Maybe I can use yours.”

Andrew’s voice trails off, and my attention goes to the boy. He looks defeated, but when he finds my gaze, his face brightens.

“Hi, Logan.”

“Hi, James.”

“You still coming to our house before graduation?” he asks.

I nod my head. “Mm hmm.”

He flashes me a content smile and then continues his trek down the hallway. “I’ll see you later then,” he says.

I laugh quietly to myself and turn back toward my locker. There’s only one textbook and a notebook on the shelf. I grab them both and go to close the locker before I stop and spot a note taped to the inside of the door.

I quickly peel the folded piece of paper off and fall back against the locker door. It latches shut with a click as I press the books against my chest and open the note with both hands. And instantly, my eyes go to reading the familiar handwriting:

Reptile disease? I laugh to myself, then continue reading:

I take in a deep breath and let out a happy grin as I refold the note and slide it into the back pocket of my jean shorts. The ring of the first bell makes me jump, but before I can start my hike to my last class, I catch the number on the locker right next to mine. It’s his locker. The number on the little, metal door is 92—our anniversary. We don’t really have a real date — a date when we first started going out or dating or whatever. I guess because we just kind of always were. Andrew picked the day we would use though. It’s the first day we ever had lunch together — September 2—in a little cafeteria at Cedar Elementary. He says I traded him my milk for his cookie. I don’t remember the trade, and I have no idea how he remembers the exact date — I barely remember it was even September when I moved here — but he swears he does.

I pull my books closer to my chest. God, sometimes I still can’t believe I fell for that messy-haired little boy with the plastic Wiffle ball bat slung across his shoulders. But more so, I guess, I can’t believe just how much I love him because in the end, I absolutely love that crazy boy with everything I am.