Page 167 of The Score

I watch him agape.

My mom stares at me and chuckles. "Go out there before he destroys my garden trying to get to that capsule."

"I— Bear—" I stutter.

"Good luck," Mom adds. "Come, Sergio. Let's give them space. We can have ice cream and coffee at that place you like."

"Are you going to be okay?" Dad asks.

Leon seems focused on his goal. I'm finally recovering from the shock. I blink a few times, but eventually glance at my parents.

I nod. "Go have ice cream and coffee."

I kiss him on the cheek and let them go. Then I turn back and go out to the yard, and watch Bear from the back door landing. He throws the shovel to the side and falls to his knees. He digs out the old plastic-wrapped metal box and puts it on his lap.

"We won't be thirty for another couple of months," I say.

Watching him gave me enough time to find some amount of calm inside of me. Or at least, to find a way to pretend I do.

He swipes some of the dirt out from the bag. "We never made a big deal of birthdays anyway."

I cross the yard and sit on the swing. Bear rips the bags apart, and frees the old metal box. The years have rusted the edges, and the paint is faded and off in some places, but it mostly looks like what I remember.

Bear opens the box and rumages through it. He finds his letter— the one he addressed to me, more than a decade ago. He keeps it in his hand, sits his ass on the grass, and leaves the box to the side.

He turns to stare up at me on the swing. His eyes are clear, bluer than most days, out here in the sunlight. Thoughts run through his mind, evident in the little wrinkles on his forehead.

At first he doesn't speak. I watch him back, nerves prickling my belly. I bite my bottom lip.

He takes a deep breath. "Are your parents around?"

"No. They went out to give us space."

His nod is slow. He takes the time to study me some more. In a corner of my mind, I think back to one night more than ten years ago, when we spent time out here in the dark. With my heart broken, and his kind soul wanting to help me feel better. So different from today, in so many ways.

This time it's a bright summer day, but I'm still on the swing, wondering if there's a way I'll finally believe that romance could happen for me. Not with just a random guy I thought was somewhat cute, but with my best friend. The same one who gave me my first kiss. Someone I can't imagine living without.

He offers me the letter. "Read this, please."

I find it hard to breathe, but I take the yellowed envelope from him. I open it and read, my heart in my throat.