October is one of my favorite months of the year. Everything is so beautiful, with colors of red, orange, yellow, and brown.

I never would have expected this, but I know now that I have feelings for him. I’m starting to think he does too. He offered to hug me when I told him about the nightmares I’ve been having, he always makes his way over to where I am, and when we sit on the hill, he gets a little closer each day. He’s always concerned about me, asking me how I’m doing or if I’m alright. Even the little things, like how I started grabbing both of our computers once when he zoned out because I used to sit right behind him in CSC 105 and our computers are right next to one another. Then he started beating me to the punch, grabbing both of our computers every day before I even have a chance to set my things down.

Everyone else in our class already thinks we’re dating, and I don’t blame them. I don’t know what signs I might be showing, but I’ve seen how he looks at me when he’s checking in on me. How sometimes he avoids my gaze. The way his voice becomes gentle, and overall looks and sounds more vulnerable, telling me about what he’s going through. He always understands because we have both dealt with similar losses and pain.

The sixth of October, 2022. I couldn’t forget if I tried. We sit on the hill like we do every day. I love his scent. The wind carries it toward me, and I breathe it in. I know that it sounds creepy but I’m being serious. All I can think about is laying in the grass back home. In the summertime, the sunlight feels glorious. I think about laying in the grass with Mary and Mickala, giggling and laughing because there was no place I’d rather be. So much has changed since those days, and I miss it so much. But this boy beside me, Joseph, reminds me of home.

I want to ask him what he thinks about the rumors, but I don’t want to be embarrassed or shy about it. I want to sound confident. I fiddle with the Stihl hat my brother gave me, trying to think of a better approach to the topic without sounding like an idiot. I begin to wonder if I should wait till Monday until I realize the weekend will give us time to process. I think as though it's now or never, and almost go ahead and ask him, but apparently, Angelina had me covered on that.

“Alright,” she shouts up at us, from the bottom of the hill, “Shadow's face is red, Joe’s face is red. Something is going on here.”

I’m not too sure about it before, but my face is definitely red now. I let my hair fall over my face. I wrack my brain for words, but my mind is scrambling,  and I stall, “only Angelina.” my voice is barely audible so I let out a little laugh, but that just makes it worse.

“I wouldn't mind a... us being like that, you know” his gentle voice comes through, and he stumbles over the words a little. I smile because that was kind of adorable.

I’m relieved I don’t have to figure out how to bring it up but I’m suddenly worried because I don’t want this to be like last year with Cole. I don’t want a status to change everything. I want this, but I don't want to risk ruining what we have. I feel him waiting for me to say something, so I just say it.

“I don’t want everything to change.”

There’s a slight pause, and the energy turns tense. I want to see his expression, but I’m too nervous to look back at him.

“I can make sure things don’t change too much if that would help.”

“Okay,” I reply, feeling small, but with that sweetness and comfort that only his voice can cause. 

“If you don’t want to do this,” but I know he knows I do, “or if you want some time to think about it, I completely understand.”

“Okay,” I say again, still feeling the same way.

We sit in silence for what feels like hours but was only about five minutes until I can’t stand it anymore. I suddenly lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder. Automatically, he puts his arm around me, and I can’t help closing my eyes. His warmth is gentle but strong, like Kansas summer sunshine.

It takes about thirty seconds for Angelina and the others to notice, then another full minute for them to stop cheering. Laughing, I bury my face in his chest. I nuzzle against him, taking a deep breath in, and realize:
There’s no place I’d rather be.