BTS Book Reviews Issue 18 - Page 103

BEFORE Not one day had passed that I didn’t think about him. It was odd, really, considering that I’d last seen him in middle school, nearly five years before. And there he was. His appearance was so unexpected that I almost forgot the spasm of pain in my back that had made me gasp and stop walking. Forgot the telltale pearling of cold sweat on my forehead. I straightened and removed my hand from the rough brick where I had propped myself up. Kevin Spinelli, my childhood crush, stood across the street from me, a patient set to his lips as he gazed up at the stoplight, as though he had all the time in the world. I stared at him, wishing that time would stop, wishing that I had all the time in the world. His hair was still as black, still swooping over his left eye in a stubborn cowlick descent that was both mischievous and endearing. He was taller, my height now. No longer was he the slight thirteen year old with his slender neck poking from the plastic-lined shoulders of his football uniform like a twig on a sand dune. I was taller January 2014 | 103