On graduation day, I waited behind the gym. I knew exactly who I was waiting for, and knowing it embarrassed me.

She came. The second button on my uniform was already gone — the one you give to someone you like. She didn't ask who I'd given it to. By not asking, she could leave the answer open to whatever she wanted to believe.

We both already knew we were going to different high schools. So we didn't promise to meet again. For a long time, I regretted that we didn't.