The café in the Town Center was an odd place for a high school student like me to be at on a Monday morning. At the end of every September, the teachers held a training day, so we got the day off. Last year, my junior year, my old tennis friends and I drove around LA and watched a terrible movie. This year, however, because of an accident in the summer where I shattered my arm and the doctor telling me it would never fully heal, it was awkward to show my face to my teammates—sorry, former teammates—especially since I used to be the varsity captain. What makes matters feel a lot worse was that none of them bothered to visit at the hospital. I stayed there for the entirety of our break and I kind of expected they’d at least send a card, if anything. They didn’t, and when the school year came around, I ceased to exist; my parents, who invested so much in me to play tennis, treated me like a different person, my coach blamed me for not being careful, the people I used to hang out with couldn’t look at me for some reason, and I sat alone in the library during lunch. I was Alex Albury, the golden boy who was supposed to go places and get recruited by colleges. Now, I didn’t know who I was anymore or where I belonged.

Across the street was the University of California Santa Ana and I planned on crashing some classes later because 1) I had a day off, 2) I didn’t want to stay home and listen to my parents talk about me, and 3) maybe I’d stumble upon something interesting. I brought my gray backpack full of blank composition notebooks and a few pencils. To be honest, I didn’t put much thought into what classrooms I wanted to sneak inside.

The Town Center was where a lot of the university students hung out before the start of a class, so I was hoping that I’d be lucky enough to find someone on their way. Taking a sip of my latte, I spotted somebody in the corner of my eye who made me stare. Stare for an overly long time until they got up from their seat. A girl with a pale complexion, dark brown hair tied in a messy bun, eyes that were disquietingly deep blue and a sundress that matched them. She was attractive and before I knew it, I was on my feet following her (which wasn’t in the least bit creepy).

We walked around the campus for about fifteen minutes prior to reaching one of the rooms, joining hundreds of others in a lecture hall about an introduction to philosophy. As she made her way to the back row and began to sit down, I failed to see the guy in front of me picking up the phone he dropped and accidentally tripped over him, falling flat on my face and making a loud thump. I suspect it echoed for everybody to hear because they all looked in my direction.

“I think you just fell for me,” said the guy on the ground, and the hall roared with applause, “I’m Vince, by the way. You are?”
“Alex. I’m Alex,” I replied as I helped get him up.

After telling me that this was the most interesting thing that has happened since he joined the course, Vince went back to his seat and proceeded to play a game on his laptop. Everyone else turned their attention to the front and waited for the professor to begin the lecture. I glanced back at the girl and could see her smiling. I stole the spot next to her and it was probably my imagination, but I swear her eyes lit up.

“Um, nice performance, Alex.” She smirked.

“How do you know my name?”

“I overheard it earlier. Are you okay though? It sounded like you hit your face pretty hard.”'

“I’m good.”

It felt like I hit a truck.

She looked displeased with my answer. “Yeah, sorry, not buying it. Your nose is bleeding.”

“Oh.” I touched my nose and found blood on my fingertips. The girl opened up her leather satchel and pulled out an entire box of tissues. I didn’t question her. “Thanks.”

The professor began talking in a monotonous tone. I wasn’t surprised to see some people near me dozing off and some doing their own thing.

“I hate him,” said the girl, “Everyone he talks about is interesting, but his tone of voice makes the whole lesson unbearable! He doesn’t put any emotion into his words! Do you know John Stuart Mill?”

“That’s who he’s touching on right now, isn’t it?”

“Well we sure aren’t going to learn anything today. Luckily I’m in love with philosophy and know all about good old Mill. Let me enlighten you. He was this famous…” she babbled on in a way that I could hardly understand, but she did her best to fill in all of the details I didn’t know, and I didn’t know a lot. Somewhere in between the lessons of social theory and utilitarianism, I told her I was a high school student spending my day at a university I wasn’t enrolled in and she told me she came from Washington the last quarter of her senior year because of her parents’ new jobs. She didn’t tell me her name until the very end of our conversation and that she was, in fact, one hundred percent a lesbian, who already had a girlfriend.

This was my first encounter with Elizabeth Reed.

During the two and a half months that followed, talking to Elizabeth became a daily norm and hanging out every once in a while was not an unusual occurrence. She broke up with her significant other about three weeks after she had met me and I became her go-to guy to talk about her feelings with. At first she would ramble on about stories of her ex and I honestly didn’t know how to take it, but she slowly got over her and went back to being the girl who seized the day and spoke about philosophy and books and her favorite poems. My arm healed to the point where I could finally drive again so I’ve brought her on “dates” to the movies, to bookstores, to shopping centers, and to art museums because she enjoyed those sort of things. Sometimes she’d make these tiny gestures that convinced me our feelings were mutual, even though I knew it would never be true.

“How in the world have you not seen the Disney fireworks?” I said over the phone in disbelief.

“Would you believe me if I genuinely forgot Disneyland was not even a twenty minute drive away?” Elizabeth asked.

“You’re kidding, right? We’re going. Right now.” I looked at the time and it was only 8:30. This was perfect. “I’ll be over in ten, we should be able to make it.”

When I pulled up to her house, I saw her sitting down on the curb and she instantly stood up. She wore her favorite red off-shoulder sweater.
“Hi.” She gave me one of her rare smiles.

“Hey.” I replied as she climbed into the passenger seat.

The drive was quiet, a reassuring quiet. I stole quick glances at Elizabeth every so often and she’d mostly be looking outside, but sometimes at me, turning away when our eyes met. The freeway surprisingly had a lot less cars than I thought it would on this Saturday evening, making me think that people were already getting ready for the holidays, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

“We’re almost there,” I said. She was confused when I didn’t take the Disneyland Drive exit. “The fireworks won’t be as enjoyable if there are too many people around. I know a good spot that isn’t crowded.”

After a few more minutes, we got off the freeway and made our way to an empty IHOP parking lot along Harbor Boulevard. I got out of the car and motioned her to follow, grabbing her hand and bringing both of us on top of the hood of my car. We leaned against the windshield.
“When do the fireworks start?” she asked, gazing at the invisible stars.

“Soon.” There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It was soothing.

It struck me that we were still holding hands and she didn’t show any signs of wanting to let go. The soft glow of the moon washed over her, and it occurred to me that we were alone. We were alone in this empty parking lot and her right shoulder was exposed, giving me a glimpse of her black bra strap. Her hair fell down to the middle of her back and her eyes illuminated with suspense as she waited for the fireworks to come. Her cheeks were a little pink because it was colder than usual and her shoelaces had come undone. What mattered was that we were here, together, and that was all I wanted.

“This is nice,” she finally said, and I don’t know if she meant the hand holding or something else, but I wanted to believe the former. The first firework shimmered above before disappearing forever. “Did you see that!?”
More of them shot up in the sky.
“They’re beautiful,” she said.

I thought she was beautiful. I wanted so badly to tilt her face up, to close the distance between us and press my lips against hers. I wanted so badly to believe that maybe, just maybe, she’d choose me. I wanted so badly to be the exception and believe the infinitesimal possibility that she was in love with me, too. And this was my greatest mistake, because I let my emotions take over. I kissed her. She tasted like the winter breeze and the night sky and philosophy and fireworks. It wasn’t long before she unlaced her fingers from mine and pushed me away. I couldn’t quite figure out how she felt because the look she sent gave me mixed feelings.

“Alex!” Elizabeth screamed. She got off the car and suddenly the fireworks seemed too loud. “What are you doing?”
“I—I don’t know… I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? I told you on day one that I was a lesbian.” She was furious.
“We were holding hands and… and the mood made me think that—”
“You didn’t think, Alex! You’re a man.” By this time she was storming off.
“Where are you going?” I called, and began to follow her. “You don’t even know where we are!”
“I’ll figure it out!” Elizabeth yelled back. It was then that she realized both of the laces on her shoes were untied because she tripped and it brought me back to the very first day we met each other at the university. I think she remembered too because of the expression on her face when she got back up. I definitely had to say it.
“I think you just fell for me,” I said and she burst out laughing.
“I hate you so much.” She calmed down. Unlike my incident, her nose didn’t bleed. “I’m supposed to be mad at you but I can’t. Not after what just happened.”
Now was the time to tell her. “Can we talk?”
“Of course. Let’s go back and sit down.” She walked towards the car first and I followed. We climbed to the top and sat there with our legs dangling over the side.
“Sorry again. I know I shouldn’t have done that earlier.” I said. The fireworks were still going on and we were almost at the grand finale.
“It’s fine… I’m sorry for overreacting.”
“I’m going to be honest,” I began, staring up at the fireworks. “I like you a lot.”
I could tell she wasn’t sure how a confession should make her feel, especially from a guy. She stared at my hand for a minute and then looked at my face for a brief second before looking back down. She grinned sheepishly. “I kind of figured… You were holding my hand for the longest time.”
“That’s what I don’t get. How come you let me?”
“I’m not too sure about it myself. It felt… nice.” She twirled her hair. “I’m going to be honest with you too, alright?”
“I’m all ears.”

“When you kissed me, I was flattered… Maybe even a little happy.” She whispered that last part so I could barely hear.

“Really?” I couldn’t hide my smile. “Why did you—”

“I don’t know. I’m confused myself. I guess I didn’t want to accept that there might be something there. I’ve always liked girls and then out of nowhere you come along on your merry way and we get close and you make me crazy and change that.”

It took a moment to process what she said. “Does this mean that you…”

“Yes, Alex, it does. I think I really have fallen for you.”

The last firework set off and we were left in silence again. I could see her clearly in the faint gleam of the streetlight, her body trembling, not knowing what to expect. She was scared of what was going to happen next, but I did my best to assure her that she shouldn’t be. I put my hand on hers and she placed her head on my shoulder and we stayed like this for a good portion of the night. Being here with her on a Saturday evening in this comforting quiet of an empty parking lot was suffice.

I might not be Alex Albury, the golden boy who was varsity captain of the tennis team, but I was okay with it. If it wasn’t for the shattered arm, I would have stayed with friends that didn’t give a damn about me, I would have continued to follow a dream that wasn’t my own, and I would have never thought about going to the Town Center on my day off and have met Elizabeth. I was one of the lucky people who got the wakeup call to make my own decisions, to find a place where I belonged, and to not be the person everyone expected me to be. Everything prior to the day of the accident seemed like a blur to me, largely because I wasn’t the main character of my own story. Now that I was, nobody was going to stop me from being Alex Albury, the boy who was not varsity captain, but the boy who was in control of his own life and had a lovely girlfriend that only liked girls until she had met him.

And in my opinion, this was a whole lot better.