he met her again at the theater.

she had grown up. eyes big and blue, a pretty smile, a pretty person.

he liked her.

they sat on the edge of the stage after the show.

"you were wonderful on stage."

she only sat there and smiled. it was her way of saying thank you.

teenagers, young and clutching hearts, they sat in solemn silence.

he didn't know how to tell her. it is difficult, at that age, to distinguish between emotions and they often become overgrown.

she sighed and broke the silence."I wish you had been there with me, eli."

he looked up. she never called his nickname. "eliot," she'd ask for help with the stage lights, the sound effects, the costumes, and he'd be there, fixing his spectacles and murmuring "no problem"s to her,

but it was always eliot.

"eli?" he asked quietly.

"yes, eli. that is your name, right?"

"I suppose so. and yours is margaret."

"yes. it is."

he didn't shorten it. it was perfect the way it was.

mar, ga, ret. he said it in his head.

"eli?" she whispered.

he raised his eyebrows.

and she kissed him.