“I want you to remember this, Severin,” my father said, on a Thursday night around nine. I was steaming my homecoming dress, lost in my thoughts and the feeling of nervousness that would overcome me the next day at school as I counted down the hours until the game and the ceremony. “No one should ever be put in the shadows.” He was sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper in front of him. He never got a chance to look at it in the morning so he always read it at night.

“What’s that, Dad?” I had been half listening, half nodding and pretending. He had my attention now.

“Your mother, she had a serious boyfriend before we started dating. His name was Bart, so you know.” He rolled his eyes and I laughed.

“Cassidy is a much better name,” I said, smiling at my father.

“Yes. Much better. Anyway. She had this boyfriend and I noticed them sometimes but I had my head in my ass and you know, I was just an idiot kid. She had a crush on me because she saw me with my girlfriend at the time and I liked to hold her hand and I was affectionate. I was a gentleman. I took her on dates and your mother, she would see me on these dates when she was out with her girlfriends. Not with her boyfriend. Because he was always hanging with the boys. Never spending time with your mother. Never showing her off.”

“Who wouldn’t want to show Mom off?” I scoffed. My mother with the corn silk hair and long legs. My mother with the wide smile and dark eyes.

“An idiot, clearly. Anyway, she let it define her worth for a little too long there. When she and I started dating, finally, when I finally got my head out of my ass and realized she liked me, I showed her off. And it threw her. She knew I was that kind of guy. The kind that wanted his girl by his side, even when he was hanging with the guys, but she always worried she was taking up too much of my time. Because she was used to thinking she was taking up someone’s time just by being with them. And that is just silly. So I want to know that when you get a boyfriend you get the kind that will take you out and make you a priority.”

“Okay, Dad.” I laughed, but I was pushing it down, the fear. Bryan was never going to give me the time of day. And if he did, would he walk down the hall with his hand in mine? No way. It’s a strange thing, to resent the object of your desire for faults you know they own, but have never confirmed. This crush was silly and I would give up sacred parts of myself for it. I knew it. It made me want to slap myself across the face. No matter what name was said tonight. No matter the victories my friends and I would achieve. Bryan Winthrop’s heart would never be mine. Never in the light of day.

“Severin Thompson,” my father said, pulling me from melancholy.

“Yes,” I said, blinking twice.

“Your intuition is a powerful thing. You know when someone is doing you right. You know when you deserve more.”

“Dad,” I sighed, “I’m not even dating anyone. It’s okay. Sasha was the big dater. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yes. She did date a lot. But I also noticed a lot. And I gave her these same talks. Talks she didn’t understand at the time. Or, no, she understood. But we just didn’t talk about it yet. What we both knew.”

I thought of my sister. My sister who struggled as a teen with her preference for the female gender in a small town in the Midwest. I looked at my father and smiled. Oh, how I loved him. And he was right. I understood what he meant, and what he wanted me to know. He saw more than he let on.

“Severin Thompson,” he repeated.

“Yes.” I smiled, shaking my head.

“I love you. Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.”

I couldn’t hear anything the next night right after my name was announced as the new Homecoming Queen, not even my father’s warning. There was a buzzing in my ears. Everything was slow motion, blurry. I stood in line, the head of the line. I saw a microphone in Erica's hand. I saw her lips moving, her smile. My hand was sweating, and I wondered if Bryan could sense it. He was pressed against me, warm. Close but not close enough. I hated that the whole school was seeing it. My first moments of being near him in this way.

Moments before, Bryan turned my way, just slightly, so I leaned in. Always falling.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” I mouthed it. No sound came out. He nodded, staring again. His hand came up, covering mine. He squeezed it gently, and I felt my heart rate speed up. That didn't help. He was here, by my side, in front of the whole school. I knew my father was in the crowd but he didn’t know this was the one my heart wanted. This was the one I wanted and he was here with me, for everyone to see.

The stands erupted in cheers when the moment came. I didn't register what was happening. I saw flashing lights, Mandy Thornbury, yearbook photographer, came my way. I pulled my hand up, shielded my eyes. I registered Bryan moving away from me, turning.

I pulled my hand down and looked up into his eyes. A smile played on his lips, the half one that always made my stomach flip, the one he had shown me down by the water a week earlier, in secret.

Bryan's hand was now on my jaw, his thumb under the tip of my chin. My mouth opened slightly, a quick breath came out and then it was lost. His mouth was on mine, and it was not a peck. It was not over in a second. My eyes were closed, and I felt his tongue pressing against my lips, so I opened for him. His body pressed against mine and my hands, they moved up, slowly tracing his neck, feeling the beautiful vein I always found with my eyes when he spoke. I don’t know how much time passed, but I knew one thing. This was a kiss. This wasn’t for show. This wasn’t for tradition. This was something he wanted and something he was giving me as more than a gift. It was something he needed to feel. The cheers got louder, then I felt cool air on my lips.

I blinked, pulled my hand up, traced my thumb over my bottom lip. It was wet, swollen. I felt dizzy and wanting.

Bryan wasn’t looking at me when I opened my eyes. He was blushing, shaking his head.

Mandy’s voice was close, an urgent murmuring. I turned to see her leaning toward us.

“Guys. I didn't get a picture. I need,” she hesitated, then laughed a little, “I need you to do that again.”

I shook my head. Not up and down or side to side, it was a mixture of both. I was a confused bobble head. I turned to Bryan, and this time his eyes were on me. He nodded, pursed his lips. “I think I can do that.”

It was just as intense the second time. I felt hot all over, slick between my legs. It wasn't a foreign feeling in his presence, but it was strange to feel this buzzed with his hands on me. It wasn't just a fantasy this time, something I made up.

When we pulled away again, I searched the crowd. His hand had mine, and I felt like an imposter. I found my friends in the crowd and shook my head from side to side, like a deranged idiot. Britt was pumping her hand in the air. Akia looked like she was crying. And Christina, she was pointing. I followed her index finger's direction and my breath caught. Aurora was at the edge of the basketball court. Her hands were over her mouth. She looked like she had just seen one of her family members get hit by a car. Her skin was as pale as her blonde hair, and I felt sick. I squeezed Bryan's hand, unintentionally, needing him to look into my eyes. To tell me I wouldn't be paying for this moment.

He ignored it, pulling me along. The yearbook staff arranged us with the rest of the candidates in the center of the gymnasium floor for more photos. I avoided Rodney's stare, but I could feel it. I avoided him completely. He hadn't won, and that felt good.

Strangely enough, Bryan's younger brother, a junior, Ben Winthrop won. For one photo they had us stand together, arms locked. He congratulated me, and I mumbled, “Thanks” or something to that effect.

Eventually, I noticed a change in Bryan's posture. I noticed the tightness of his hand in mine lessening until he let go completely.

When my palm hit my dress, I looked up into his eyes. They weren't looking at me anymore. They were looking across the gym at Aurora, who was now crying.