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The Art of Falling
“When are you gonna get a boyfriend?”
“Maybe never.”
She had it all figured out. Who needed guys? She was happy where she was. She was, by definition, “Miss Independent”. She was fifteen years old, had never dated, and had no plans on that changed any time soon. She watched her friend’s get into relationships with jerks, only to have it end two months and a lot of tears later. Why would she want that?
But then he happened.
And sleeping-by-9 nights became texting-him-at-3am nights. Being too afraid to dance at homecoming became slow dances at prom. Flowers, and deep conversations, and holding his hand, and listening as he told her that he was willing to wait the 9 months until she would be allowed to date him. Having him become her best friend. Knowing he cared about her for more than her looks. That stupid grin she got when she heard his name. Watching him stay by her all the times she wanted to run away. Hugs and shared geekiness and when he wasn't on his ADHD medicine.
Until one day. The thing she’d swore she would never say yes to.
“You’re beautiful, and amazing, and one of the best girls I've ever gotten to meet. And I was wondering... If you would do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”
And she said goodbye to Miss Independent... and hello to him.