Nobody applauded us.
We were simply two 18-year-olds dancing badly together.
***
Afterward, Mom waited outside.
Noah carried my heels because my feet hurt.
I carried his jacket because he was feeling hot.
At the car, he opened my door.
We were simply two 18-year-olds dancing badly together.
I climbed inside, leaned across the seat, and opened his.
Mom watched us in the mirror.
For years, she’d seen me beside Noah and thought one of us was taking care of the other.
She finally understood.
Nobody was rescuing anybody.
Nobody was fulfilling an obligation.
Nobody was rescuing anybody.
We were just two people who had figured something out at six that adults sometimes spend their whole lives learning.
When somebody matters to you, you stay.
And sometimes, if you’re lucky, they stay too.
When somebody matters to you, you stay.
