Monday morning is proving to be more of a b***h than I anticipated. I work out and go straight from the gym to work, so there’s no opportunity of running into Viola. Turning the radio off, I drive in silence. My mind is running a million miles an hour, thinking of when we were kids and the first time Viola asked me about boys. We were sitting in our spot on her rooftop when she brought the subject up. The way she glanced up at me, acting shy and embarrassed as she asked me how to tell if a boy liked her was sweet. The wind blew her hair around her face, and I was surprised she had worn her hair down. I watched as she tucked strands behind her ears as she fidgeted.
“Guys are simple creatures,” I explained, although I hadn’t much experience myself. The only girl I cared about spending time
