Seated at the kitchen table, Jazz studied the glossy photo in her hand before taking her craft scissors and cutting off the person on either edge. That left her and Nathan together in the center of the shot. Both dressed in their homecoming best freshman year. Together as always, even though they weren’t together together. Hard to believe a year and a half had passed when that night felt like it had happened just yesterday.

She trimmed the edges further, creating a tight circle around their chests and faces, then slathered the back with her glue stick and pushed it into the collage.

Today was Nathan’s sixteenth birthday—the big sweet—and she was making him a memory book since neither she nor her mom had the money to buy him a flashy present. Besides, there was something so quaint about seeing all these printed glossies off the screen, just like in the olden days before everyone’s arms became permanently attached to their iPhones and Androids.

Jazz had been one of the last holdouts to getting her own cell phone. Sometimes friends made fun of her, but she shrugged them off saying that she preferred real-life, face-to-face conversations to texting. Nobody but Nathan knew the reason was because her mom couldn’t afford to purchase one.

Then one day a couple of weeks back, Nathan had surprised her with a sleek, silver phone she could call her own. “There’s this multiple lines family plan thing now. I asked my mom if we could add you and she agreed. Happy early half birthday.”

Yes, half birthdays were a thing for her and Nathan, mostly because their special days were exactly six months apart—which meant that, today, while Nathan was turning sweet sixteen, she’d officially become a fifteen and a half year old.

Pretty much a woman already.

Not that Nathan had noticed.

She brushed her thumb across a picture of Nathan in his JV football uniform. Number fifteen. It was their lucky number, because both their birthdays fell on the fifteenth of their respective months—his in November and hers in May.

Her cell phone buzzed on the table amidst the discarded photo fragments, glue sticks, and glitter—because whether or not he would publicly admit it, Nathan loved an added bit of razzle dazzle.

That night, Nathan had a small birthday party filled mostly with other football players and their girlfriends. Nathan, for once, was unattached, which meant that maybe, just maybe, he would finally realize that Jazz was the perfect girl for him.

Deep down, he had to know that they were meant to be together. Why else would he cycle through an endless chain of girlfriends, each relationship shorter than the last? Why else would he stay home with her every Friday night instead of spending that time with his girlfriends? It had to mean something—and even Nathan would figure it out eventually. That is, if he hadn’t already.

The party was a bust since Nathan’s mother had insisted that she chaperone, which meant no seven minutes in heaven, no spin the bottle, no booze, and no dancing.

“Let’s head to the strip,” Red, Nathan’s best guy friend, said, rallying a crowd of supporters.

“No can do,” Nathan answered, shooting Jazz a mischievous glance while trying—and failing—to hide a bemused smile. “I’ve got plans.”

“Whatever, man. See you at school tomorrow.” Red led the rest of the disappointed partygoers from the house and toward the lame strip mall the kids at Kennedy High had dubbed their hangout.

Once the others cleared out, Nathan turned to Jazz again. “You ready to go?”

“Ready.” She could hardly contain her excitement. Their special after-birthday tradition was one of her favorite things in the entire world. She looked forward to it even more than usual on this day, because this could be the big romantic moment she’d been waiting for practically all her life.

“Let me grab your gift from my house. Meet me outside?” She hadn’t wanted Nathan to open her present in front of his friends. This was personal, between the two of them. She hoped to use the collage of memories as a segue into discussing their relationship. Mainly how they were perfect for each other and should just succumb to their happily ever after right then and there. And also how she had been dying for him to kiss her—like literally dying. If he didn’t kiss her soon, she might not live through high school.

He tossed a wink her way and made a gun gesture with his hand. “You’ve got it, J.”

A few minutes later, she found herself climbing into the passenger side of his car. She’d been in the old Chrysler 300 before, but never in the front seat. This had been Nathan’s dad’s car up until today. Now his father had a brand-new BMW, and Nathan had his own set of wheels.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

He turned toward her with a serious expression on his handsome, tanned face. “To make-out point.”

Jazz gulped. “So, back to the 1950’s?” She searched the dashboard and glove compartment, hoping Nathan didn’t catch the heat rising to her face. “I didn’t realize your dad had installed a time machine. Where is it? How do I turn it on?”

Nathan laughed as he shifted into drive and zoomed off down the street. His lack of experience showed as the car jerked forward under the command of his lead foot.

“Slow down, killer. You’ve got no one here to impress but little old me.” Did he want to impress her? Did he maybe like her, too? A thrill shot through her.

“I just want to get us there so I can find out what you got me,” he admitted, staring straight ahead and clumsily fiddling with the radio as he drove.

About ten minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of their old elementary school.

Jazz laughed. “So this is make-out point?”

He smiled serenely as if he really were going back in time. “It’s where I first talked to you, remember?”

She would never forget that day back in kindergarten when she and Nathan had first said hello on the playground. She’d seen him peek out at her through the window as her family unpacked their moving truck, but hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with him until the following week at school. From there, they became fast friends, and—as they say—the rest was history.

But why had Nathan brought them here today? Was it to start a new chapter in their lives? Anticipation soared.

“I remember,” she told him, unbuckling her seat belt as he did the same.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one I can talk to, Jazz. Like everyone else looks at me and sees this sexy, athletic, popular, smart—”

“Is this going somewhere?”

“Sorry, I got carried away.” He laughed softly. “Everyone else sees the outside, but you…” Nathan grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. “You see my heart. Like I can be the real me and not worry with you, you know?”

“Of course, I know.” Her stomach fluttered. This was really happening. Finally, finally, finally. “I feel the same way. Only, why can’t you be the real you with everyone else, too?”

Nathan shook his head and looked toward his lap. “I don’t know. I wish I did. Just promise me, Jazz. Promise me we’ll never stop being friends.”

Friends.

The word resonated through the air.

Through her.

When he turned the full effect of his espresso-colored eyes on her, Jazz knew she was a goner—so, too, was any wish she’d had for something more with Nathan. She ignored the disappointment ripping through her and her aching heart. He needed her to be his friend in a way no one else ever had been, and perhaps no one else ever could be. And she loved him too much to take that away from him. He’d been there that awful night when her parents’ marriage finally disintegrated. She would be there for him now.

“Always,” she said, reaching over to give him a firm, platonic hug. “Always and forever.”