In previous years back home, it was expected that my birthday would be met with cold, wet weather. This year, I realised upon opening my weather app and seeing the week's forecast, it was likely to be on trend. This didn't bother me much; I was more of a cold weather person, far preferring thick woolen sweaters and boots to crop tops and flip flops. If anything, it would make me feel a little more at home as I turned twenty in a country that wasn't my own.

On March 1st, the day before my birthday, I pulled open the curtains to see torrential rain. The sky was a dull, oppressive grey and large puddles had formed on the ground. Even from the warmth of my bedroom, I could feel the chill from outside. Clearly, there was no chance that Spring was coming early here.

Last night, I'd received an email from the professor of today's only class, informing us that it was cancelled. So this morning, I took my time with getting ready. By the time I was fully dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, I felt content. Happy, even. I decided that I'd take today slowly and allow myself to recharge with the help of a good book and a scented candle - an introvert's birthday treat.

As always, my day started with a cup of coffee. I headed through to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. While I waited for it to brew, I pulled out my phone from my pocket and began scrolling idly. My attention was snagged by a photo Kyle had posted an hour ago: he and Carter were stood side by side, both in their football gear, grinning at the camera. The caption below it read training for tomorrow's game followed by a series of emojis.

Just as I was about to type out a message to Carter enquiring about the game, I was interrupted by Maya walking into the room.

"Good morning," I said with a smile, my mood still pleasant.

Skipping the formalities of greetings, as she often did, Maya asked, "Have you heard about the game tomorrow?

"Uh, yeah, I just saw someone's post." I knew Maya didn't follow the football much. "How did you know about it?"

She walked across the kitchen, then stopped beside me and picked up the jug of coffee I'd just prepared. I watched, a little bewildered, as she poured some into her travel cup.

"He told me," she answered casually. "Last night."

My stomach dropped, a feeling that edged on betrayal rising inside me. "What? You speak to him?"

It had been a couple of days since Carter had unexpectedly stayed over, but we hadn't spoken much beyond a couple of texts. Despite the intimacy and honesty of that night, I figured he still needed some space.

Maya didn't even know about the impromptu sleepover, and I couldn't believe that after watching me desperately miss Carter and constantly wonder whether he was okay, she hadn't thought to tell me that she was in contact with him. It was like finding out they were actually friends all over again, only this time our relationship was messier than ever.

Maya held up her free hand as though to tame me, a wry smile on her face. "Woah, Sydney, calm down a second. I've only spoken to him once since, uh, it happened, and that was last night. He messaged me when I was about to go to sleep, but I was obviously going to tell you today."

In relief, the red that had flashed before my eyes a moment ago filtered down to a pale pink. Still, I was on edge about the fact that Carter had decided to talk to Maya, not me. I knew they were friends in their own right, but surely when he thought of her, I came to mind. Had he simply thought of me then pushed that away in favour of her? Had the other night not been the step towards a breakthrough between us that I'd felt like it was?

"What did he say?"

Maya moved to the kitchen table and took a sip of her coffee. Remembering that I'd made it for myself, I quickly poured myself a cup, then sat down opposite her, watching her closely. It occurred to me that I'd positioned myself as though I was facing her over an interrogation desk, but I hoped that wouldn't occur to her.

"He wanted to know how you are," she told me.

My heart skipped a beat. As much as I wished that he would have just messaged me to ask personally, it was comforting to know that he was thinking about me the way I was him.

"What did you tell him?" I asked tentatively.

Maya shrugged. "I told him the truth - that you're okay. But also that you miss him."

Surprisingly, I realised that I wasn't embarrassed that she had told Carter that I missed him. I supposed I was simply past hiding things from him and definitely way beyond playing nonchalant; it was true, of course, I missed him desperately. Why shouldn't he know that? He knew I was in love with him, after all, so the fact that I missed him would hardly come as a surprise.

Slowly, letting myself process what Maya had said since entering the kitchen barely five minutes ago, I took a few long sips of my coffee. My hands wrapped around the cup, letting the heat seep into my skin and shutting my eyes for a moment.

"So, what else did you talk about?" I asked eventually.

"He told me about this football game that's happening tomorrow. Something about the first-string being injured so he's filling in. Sounds like a big deal. I think he wants you to be there."

"Why do you think that?" I felt my heart beat a little harder. A buzz of nerves started up in the pit of my stomach.

"Think about it, Sydney," she said, as though it was obvious. "We haven't spoken in ages and then he randomly messages me - one of your best friends and your roommate - to tell me that he has this game tomorrow. The only way to be less subtle would be to directly ask me to invite you along."

It did make sense. I understood why he might choose talking to Maya instead of me; after this long without talking to each other - or at least talking to each other whilst both sober - it sometimes felt like an insurmountable barricade just to hit send on a message. I would know; there had been plenty of nights where my thumb had hovered over the send button only to feel my rush of courage dissipate, quickly deleting my words and closing the app. Communication was far from our strong suit.

Ever since Kyle's message, I'd been thinking of going to one of Carter's games. I'd put off finding out exactly when they were out of fear - fear of what I would say, what I would do, how he would react. But now this opportunity had fallen in my lap, a second (or third, or fourth) chance that we probably didn't deserve but that I would cling to with both hands.

So now I had roughly twenty-four hours to somehow figure everything out. So much for my peaceful day I had planned. I needed some kind of speech in mind so that I wouldn't freeze up and be unable to finally say everything I had built up inside of me. I knew from too many past experiences that the moment I got close to him, I had a tendency to just melt. On top of that, I needed an outfit a little more alluring than my current attire.

I couldn't shake the feeling that this was it - tomorrow would either make or break the two of us, for good this time.

When Alice returned from saying goodbye to Sam at the bus station, I immediately filled her in on the situation. She was, of course, more excited than Maya and I combined. To my surprise, she was also thrilled at the idea of attending the football game with us. As it turned out, she was an avid football fan and had been to a few games here already with some people she knew from her track team.

I stood up from the kitchen table, crossing the room to make myself a bowl of cereal, and Alice said from behind me, "You're not wearing something like that, are you?"

I turned to look at her, then rolled my eyes. "Obviously not. I'll wear something cute."

"Can we help you pick?" Alice asked, face lit up. I could tell she was mentally already orchestrating mine and Carter's epic romantic movie moment and that her vision required me to be dressed appropriately.

"Fine," I conceded.

Maya, on the other hand, seemed a little less keen. She stood up and headed to the door."I have class, so I'm out for this one. Just don't forget that something a little slutty makes for a good outfit."

"Maya!" Alice laughed. "We already know he wants to sleep with her, we want him to be in love with her."

Maya shrugged. "Looking hot has never been a hindrance to making someone love you."

I coughed loudly to halt the discussion before it escalated into a debate over the pros and cons of how overt my sex appeal was. Taking it as her cue, Maya nodded suggestively in my direction, then left.

By that evening, I'd let the girls pick out something appropriately positioned on the cute-to-slutty spectrum. Maya, whose consistently razor sharp winged eyeliner always furthered the impression that she could kill a man, even offered to do my makeup, but I gratefully refused. The pressure and build up was making me feel a little sick, so I was trying my best to tell myself that it was just a football game, no big deal. Besides, Carter had already seen me makeupless in the middle of the night, messily drunk, and hungover the morning after.

I just had to figure out what exactly I would say to him when I did see him. Regardless of everything he told me, the tenderness of looking after him, the intimacy of sleeping beside each other, the fact still remained that we had a lot to talk about, and a limited number of chances to get it right.

Before I would let myself become too consumed by that, I forced myself to pick up my book. Regardless of what was happening in my love life, I reminded myself that my education came first, always. But, as I lay on my bed attempting to read Dante's Inferno, I couldn't help my mind wandering.

Carter always took up near enough the entire bed, which was only a single so was cramped enough anyway. I nudged him but he didn't move, so I used my weight to shove him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, throwing an accusatory look in my direction.

"This is my bed but you're hogging all the space!" I protested.

Rolling his eyes, he shifted across slightly to the wrong side, meaning I'd have to clamber over him to join him on the bed. I pulled a face at him in return, then began to awkwardly climb over the top of him. I was painfully aware of everything about my body as it hovered over his, trying my best to regulate my breathing. Had he done this on purpose? Without thinking, I looked towards him and our eyes met, mere inches from each other. My breath hitched in my throat and for a single, tantalising moment I thought about kissing him, before he nudged me lightly and I toppled over onto the space beside him, heart racing.

"Sydney," he said quietly, avoiding my eyes. "Tell me something I don't know about you."

"I've never been kissed," I replied, stealing a glance across at him then looking back up at the ceiling.

He didn't say anything. For a panicked second, I worried that I'd made it too obvious that kissing - and, specifically, kissing him - had been on my mind. But, finally, his reply was simple: "Me neither, and I'm a year older than you."

***

For the first time in twenty years, my birthday didn't begin with my Mum greeting me. Instead, I woke up to persistent knocking on my bedroom door. It took me a while to register that it was the morning of my birthday. On the other side of my door, I heard Alice and Maya's muffled chatting. All of a sudden, they broke into an enthusiastic but entirely out of tune rendition of Happy Birthday.

Still groggy and half-asleep, I hauled myself out of bed and unlocked the door, pulling it open to see their grinning faces. I was used to this level of cheeriness from Alice, but Maya's wide smile was startling. In Alice's hands was a box from the fancy bakery we'd discovered one day in the next town across, which she promptly thrust towards me.

"Hey, birthday girl!" she exclaimed.

"We didn't want your first birthday in America to be a let down," Maya said, moving past me into my bedroom.

Alice followed her, leaving me to squash into the small space left on my bed. I placed the pastel coloured box down in front of me then opened it. Inside were three cupcakes: one pink, one purple, one blue. Each one was decorated with a single word atop the frosting, so that they lined up to spell out happy birthday Sydney.

A smile broke out on my face and I bit down on my bottom lip, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. After spending so much of my childhood in my own company and never with the kind of close friendships I'd read about and seen in films, I couldn't believe my luck in being randomly allocated a room in a suite with these two.

"What time is it?" I asked. I realised that, as lovely as my greeting had been this morning, I needed to make sure I spoke to both my parents at some point.

Maya checked her phone. "Ten past eleven. You slept in late."

That wasn't surprising; I'd been up half of the night, mind racing with thoughts of Carter and the potential that today held. Calculating time zone differences had become second nature to me by now and I quickly registered that it was still too early to call home.

"What time is the game?"

"It starts at one, so we'll want to get there a little before that," Alice said.

As much as I could have happily lazed away another few hours on my bed with them, eating cupcakes in my pyjamas, I knew that if I wanted to look presentable, I needed to start getting ready. No romantic drama ever had a climactic scene where the heroine had greasy hair and half-finished makeup.

To my surprise, the weather outside was clear. Although the people I could see through my window were wrapped up against the cold and the sky was a pale grey sheet, the ground was dry. I got dressed slowly, putting on a skirt and thick woolen tights, then changing my shirt twice before settling on a simple black roll neck. Despite the girls' advice yesterday, which mostly involved pointing at half of my wardrobe and imploring me not to wear it, I was still indecisive on the specifics of the "short skirt and a top" combination they'd decided on.

"You look nice!" Alice told me slightly too enthusiastically as I walked into the kitchen. She turned to Maya then announced, "I'm looking forward to today."

"We can tell," Maya said.

A small smile playing on my lips, I started making my lunch. As I got the bread from the cupboard, I caught the others' attention.

Alice came to stand behind me, hovering hopefully over my shoulder. "What you making?"

"Grilled cheese," I replied, not looking up from what I was doing.

"Wait, no," Maya chimed in from the other side of the room. "Call it what you used to when you first moved here."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm making a cheese toastie."

Both of them laughed and Alice attempted an entirely inaccurate impression of my accent. But, when I asked if either of them wanted one, they stopped giggling quickly. It wasn't exactly fancy or elaborate, but sitting with them side by side on the sofa and eating sandwiches felt like the perfect birthday meal.

Even by the time I had finished my lunch and done my makeup, I still had time to spare before we left for the football. I was restless, a bundle of nervous energy. My fingers fiddled with strands of my hair, finally deciding to put it up in two plaits that fell down over my shoulders. Finally, when I checked the time on my phone, I saw that it was time to go.

Breathing through a sudden surge of anxiety, I focused on lacing up my boots. I allowed myself a minute to sit on my bed, composing and bolstering myself. It's only a football game, I tried to reassure myself. But it felt like so much more than that; for the first time in weeks I'd be seeing Carter again without the shelter of nighttime and alcohol. He'd been right when he said that timing wasn't our strong suit, except I wasn't going to accept that. Timing was a funny thing and I wanted to believe that it would work out alright for us in the end. I needed to believe that; I clung to it desperately, because at twenty years old I was only deeper and more agonisingly in love with Carter than I was at thirteen.

So I pulled on my coat and, with my heart on my sleeve, I left.

***

Before moving across the Atlantic, I'd seen enough American television and films to know that college sport was a bigger deal than it was back home, but I'd not anticipated just what a different scale it was on. When we arrived, I was in awe at the size of the venue itself, recalling grimly the time a guy I'd been talking to had convinced me to stand in the cold for hours at the edge of a field with him watching his brother play university level rugby. This was in an entirely different league; there was space for thousands of spectators and huge cameras that went far beyond the small, student filmmaker equipment I'd expected. Everything felt professional.

This realisation made me feel guilty and nervous at once. I knew that football was a big deal to Carter and that he was obviously talented, but now I feared that I hadn't comprehended just how significant it was. As this sunk in, I began to feel increasingly anxious on Carter's behalf; this game was obviously a huge deal for him and there must have been so much pressure on him to do well, especially since he was chosen to fill in for another player.

Alice was the expert out of the three of us, as she was familiar with the entire experience of college sport which was so overwhelming and disorientating to me. Maya had an advantage over me in that she'd acquired a basic understanding of American football while growing up, whereas the most I knew of it was what Carter had excitedly explained to me in one of his rambles that only seemed to confuse me more. So Alice led us through the crowds and got us to our seats, only a couple of rows from the front.

All of a sudden, the people around us started cheering and clapping. I looked down to see the teams walking out onto the field. Automatically, my eyes scanned the players for the only one that mattered to me.

"What number is he?" Alice asked.

"Eighteen." I'd made sure to check for it in the photo Kyle had posted with Carter yesterday.

He was there, just in front of me, talking to a couple of other guys with a dazzling grin on his face, helmet dangling loosely from one of his hands. The sight of him after what had felt like an age apart was nearly enough to make me crumble. I wondered if anyone else watching saw him the way I did, like he was the sun - dazzling, the point that everything else revolved around. Probably, to some extent, there were other girls in the crowd who couldn't take their eyes off of him, either. Most likely, some had even had a relationship with him, if a one night stand could really be classed as that. I felt a strange mix of pride - because he was mine - and jealousy - because he'd never truly been just mine.

"It's cute," Maya commented out of nowhere. It was the first time I'd ever heard her describe anything as cute.

"What is?"

"You've really got the whole concerned girlfriend thing down," she said.

I supposed she was right, at least partially. I was definitely concerned for Carter's wellbeing (from what I understood, American football was too dangerous to be 100% comfortable watching someone you loved play it) and how well he played. The thing was, his girlfriend would have seen him before the game; he'd know she was in the crowd, cheering him on; he wouldn't run when she told him she loved him, but he'd say it back.

As a whole, I had no idea what was happening for near enough the entirety of the game. I cheered when the people around me did, feigned disappointment when I noticed it in the others. Every so often, Alice would lean over and update me on what was going on.

Most of my time, though, was spent searching the field for Carter's number 18 emblazoned on his back. At one point I saw him on the floor and my chest tightened in fear, only for him to stand up and bound towards his teammates at the side of the field, unfazed. After a while, the teams both headed off and Maya informed me that it was half time.

"Fancy a drink, birthday girl?" Maya asked as she stood up.

"I'll come with you," I replied, following her out of our seats and leaving Alice behind chatting to a girl she went ran cross-country with.

We bought a drink each from a small stand: sparkling water for Maya, lemonade for me. As we were heading back to our seats, a conversation between a cluster of nearby girls caught my attention. I paused, lingering within earshot, which wasn't even close with how loudly they were talking.

"He looks so good! It's not fair!" one girl exclaimed.

"You always think Carter looks so good," another replied, mocking her friend's voice. "Honestly, Mallory, you shouldn't have a crush this huge on a boy who barely even knows who you are."

"He does know who I am, actually," Mallory countered. "He smiled at me and said hey, gorgeous at Sarah's party that time, remember?"

"Yeah, you don't let us forget about it," the second girl said. Although I wasn't facing them, I could practically hear her eye roll in her voice.

"Haven't you heard what everyone's saying about him, though?" Another girl chimed in, with the kind of tone that meant she was about to spill some serious gossip, and she was relishing in it. "He's got a girlfriend. It's serious too, apparently, people are saying he might even be in love."

"A girlfriend? Carter Pearson? I doubt it."

"Well, I heard it from Jake and apparently all the guys on the team know."

Mallory sighed overdramatically. "Don't tell me he has a girlfriend! Who is she? Imagine what kind of girl would actually manage to get him to commit."

Feeling a surge of nerves and nausea return, I quickly walked away to catch up with Maya, who was standing by our seats. She frowned upon my approach.

"What happened to you?" she asked. I wasn't sure if she meant why I'd lagged behind, or the distressed look I no doubt had on my face.

I stepped past her and sunk down into my seat. A sinking feeling started in the pit of my stomach. I took a shaky breath, then another, then a third, but the feeling remained. I was only distantly aware of the rain that had started to drizzle on us, besides a brief thought that I was glad that my hair was in braids so I could avoid too much of a drowned rat look if the weather deteriorated any more.

Maya's voice from beside me: "Sydney? What's wrong?"

Swallowing thickly, I turned to look at her. It was like my brain and my mouth were no longer communicating because I struggled to get any words out, just stared at her and tried not to cry.

Suddenly, a wave of noise rose crashed over us, indicating that the fourth and final down had started. In the shelter of the clamour, I said quietly, "He has a girlfriend."

"What?" Maya frowned, leaning closer to hear me better.

"He has a girlfriend!" I exclaimed, a little too shrill as our surrounding quieted down.

"That's impossible."

"Yeah," I said, biting down hard on my lip in an effort not to cry. "I thought so too. But I just heard these girls talking about it. That must be why he's made no effort to reach out to me these last few weeks, it's because he's too busy with his new girl."

At this, Maya reached across and placed her hands on my shoulders, holding me still and looking intently into my eyes. It was a disorientating mixture of intimidation and care, especially coming from Maya. "Okay, Sydney, you need to listen to me here. I am almost certain that Carter does not have a girlfriend. Partly, yes, because everyone knows that boy is a player and him settling down would take some kind of goddess. But mostly because I think that that goddess is you. I've seen the way he looks at you, Sydney. Like he's witnessing a miracle. If I'm wrong, if he does have a girlfriend, then you can hate me and be as mad at me as you want. But until you find out from him, I am telling you to forget about what those girls said and to watch this game because I know how much of a big deal this is for him and how important it is for you to be here watching it, girlfriend or not. Okay?"

I paused for a moment, taken aback. There was a somewhat unnerving sincerity to her voice which I'd never heard before.

"Okay?" she repeated and I nodded slowly.

I let her hands slip from my shoulders as I shifted in my seat to face the game, where I could see Carter's 18 directly in front of me. To my left, Alice's focused was fixed attentively on the action unfolding on the field, oblivious to my crisis which Maya had deftly averted. I tapped her arm and she jumped, obviously startled as I reminded her that the rest of the world hadn't ceased to exist with the sound of the whistle.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Alice launched into an explanation, most of which I didn't understand, from which I gathered that there was barely any time left and it was excruciatingly close. "We're winning, but only just."

Just then, everyone around me seemed to sag in defeat, whilst the supporters on the opposite side of the stadium leapt up, cheering.

"Fuck!!" Alice yelled, more riled up than I'd ever seen her, eyes remaining on the game while she began a narration of events to me. "They're in the lead now. So basically we need a touchdown in the next, like, minute or we've lost."

Despite the unfamiliarity of the game and my overall lack of interest in any sport throughout my life, I felt my heart pounding hard in my chest. When both the others stood up next to me, I found myself standing too. The rain had started to get heavier but we were all oblivious. My eyes desperately scanned the field, spotting Carter's 18 flashing in and out of my vision, right in the middle of the action.

"Damn it!" Alice exclaimed. "There's just no time; we've lost it."

My breath caught in my throat, a small gasp coming from me as I watched Carter catch the ball from another player and start running.

"Carter has the ball," Alice informed me tensely, as though I'd been able to take my eyes off of him, regardless of where the ball was. "There's only ten seconds left. I don't know what he's doing. We can't win this."

The entire crowd seemed to hold their breath, the moment suspended in time, as the ball left Carter's hands and he hurled it down the field. I barely had time to process it landing in the hands of another player wearing the Yale blue and white before the crowd around me erupted in cheers and shouts.

"Oh my God!" Alice screamed, turning to me and pulling me into a hug then looking back to the celebration taking place on the field. "Oh my God, Sydney, he did it! Your fucking incredible boyfriend just went and won it with a hail mary pass!"

Her incorrect reference to Carter as my boyfriend barely even registered with me as I was swept up in the atmosphere, overwhelmed with a surge of relief and pride. Maya was right; no matter what Carter and I were, I was glad that I was here to witness that moment, even if I had no real idea of what a hail mary was.

In front of us, I watched as Carter pulled off his helmet. His hair was dishevelled and damp with sweat, face flushed, the widest, most dazzling grin on his face. Something inside me ached; he was beautiful like I'd never seen. Then, he looked away from his teammates and up into the stands, eyes meeting with mine. For a single, fleeting moment, it was like the thousands of people around us - the noise, the flurry of movement - all melted away, so that it was just him and I. My face broke out into a smile, eyes welling up with a storm of emotions so powerful I could barely contain them. His grin shifted, became softer at the edges, in a way that told me this smile was for me alone. I longed to just run down through the crowds, to throw myself into his arms, to finally close the distance between us, but the next thing I knew he was being tackled into a hug by one of his teammates and the moment was gone.

***

My fingers tapped anxiously on the table, nails clicking against wood. I absentmindedly noticed that my chestnut colour nail polish was chipped and thought that I'd have to take it off when I got home. Picking up my cup, I finished the last of my cappuccino and set it down slowly in front of me. I glanced to the clock, then caught the eye of the girl working behind the till.

"Sorry, but we're closing up now," she told me. There was pity in her voice and her expression; it was pretty clear I'd been stood up, because why else would I have spent the last forty-five minutes drinking as slowly as possible and looking up impatiently every time the door opened?

"Okay, thanks," I said, trying not to make my disappointment too clear in my voice.

I stood up and put on my coat. Outside, it was still raining, as it had been all afternoon since the football game, now even heavier than when I arrived at the coffee shop. Sighing heavily, I braced myself against the weather and walked out of the door.

Within seconds, I was drenched. Not bothering with untangling my earphones for the short walk back to my dorm, I put my head down against the rain and began to trudge home. Tears stung my eyes and I swallowed thickly to keep myself from breaking down in public. Clearly, this had all been one big, embarrassing mistake. There was no happy ending for Carter and I; we'd had our time and now it was over, left on an agonisingly unfinished note.

"Sydney!" I heard my name called out behind me, in the voice I would always recognise anywhere. "Sydney, wait!"

My head whipped around to see Carter some distance away, running towards me through the onslaught of rain. I changed my path, now heading towards him.

"Sydney," he said again, once he was within better earshot. I stopped, stuck in place, as he caught up with me. He was panting, out of breath, which made me wonder just how far he'd run. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I got caught up in all this stuff with the team and I couldn't get away."

"It's okay," I replied. I didn't have the energy to be mad. "Thanks for meeting me; I know there's a lot of better things that you could be doing right now."

We really should have gone somewhere dry and away from the noise of the rain drumming on the ground around us, but I was stuck in place. I was afraid that if either of us moved an inch then this moment of honesty and sincerity would be shattered.

He shook his head, taking a step closer to me. "You should know that there's nothing I'd rather do than be with you."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, that's not exactly been very obvious recently."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Carter," I said. I was speaking just to fill up time, to delay when I'd have to start getting serious. "Congratulations, by the way, for earlier. I don't know much about football, but it seems like you played really well."

He smiled and it took everything in me not to melt. "Thank you, Sydney. You have no idea how much it means to me that you were there."

This was when I was supposed to employ the speech I'd rehearsed over and over in my head while I waited for him to arrive at the coffee shop, covering all the points that I wanted to tell him. But I couldn't; my mind was snagged on a new, unexpected issue.

"You've got a girlfriend," I said, despondent.

We were both thoroughly soaked through and the cold was beginning to seep into my bones, but I didn't care. All I cared about was Carter, stood here in front of me for what could be the final time, and the answer he gave.

He made a face of bewilderment, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wh- what are you talking about?"

I fought to keep my composure, ensuring my voice remained even when I replied, "I heard some girls talking about it earlier. They say you're in love with her. Everyone knows, apparently."

Carter hesitated for a moment, at a loss for words. I stared up at him hopelessly. This boy held my heart and it was his to do with as he wished, and all I could do was watch and wait.

Finally, something seemed to dawn on him. "They're talking about you."

"What? I'm not your girlfriend."

"No, but I guess some of the guys have noticed a difference in me and people have got talking..." he started, then halted when he began to lose direction. "Wait, let me back up here. I've got some stuff to say to you, actually."

I nodded to prompt him to continue, not sure I could bring myself to speak. My entire body felt taut with nerves.

"So I've been thinking a lot and, well, it just hit me," he began, raking a hand through his messy hair. It was a nervous habit of his I'd first become familiar with back when we were kids. "I'm always talking about living in the moment and stuff, and I thought that meant, like, wild nights out and not limiting yourself to one person, or whatever. The more fun the better, right? But I've realised that I've got it all wrong this whole time. All we have is now, so that means I should stop doing all that unnecessary shit that makes me temporarily happy and saving the real happiness for some time in the future."

He paused, staring at me with eyes wide with yearning. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to respond, so I asked quietly. "What does that mean?"

"It means I thought I was this real fearless risk-taker, but really that's not about doing stupid crazy stunts, it's about going after what's important, even when it scares you and you don't know if it will work out." Another pause. My heart was in my throat. "And you are what is important to me... because I am in love with you, Sydney Sherwood. I'm in love with you and that terrifies me but if I don't say it now then I might never say it and I cannot - I cannot - lose you again."

My breathing hitched as I looked up at him. His face was wet with rain and there were rivulets running from his hair. I was speechless. Wonderstruck.

"God, please say something, Syd, you're killing me here," Carter breathed. "Say that your feelings haven't gone away. Say it's still me you want."

A smile broke out on my face and I stepped forward, close enough that I could see the droplets caught in his eyelashes and the tiny freckles on the bridge of his nose. "Of course it's you, Carter. It's always been you."

"Really?" he asked softly, face lit up into a grin. "You mean the girl I fell in love with six years ago still loves me? Even after everything I've done?"

For a moment, it felt as though I could have been that girl again, being swept away by the rush of falling in love for the first time. Except standing in front of me wasn't the innocent, boyish fourteen year old I used to know, nor was he the popular, playboy quarterback that half of the college population seemed to either want to be or to be with. This was someone new: someone a little damaged, tender, brave, but still brilliant. Someone that was entirely my own.

The best part of it, though - the part that meant the anguish of the past six months and the month of tears after he first left was all worth it, the part that made me believe we had a chance of making it - was that I was someone new, too. Perhaps the romantic notion would be to claim we'd made each other better, and perhaps that was true to some extent, but really, we'd changed for ourselves. It was just the way our fates had interwoven that the people we were six years ago loved each other, only for the people we'd become to end up in love with each other all over again.

"I fall in love with you over and over, with every heartbeat," I answered, letting one of my hands go to his chest, where his t-shirt was soaked through and stuck to his skin. "And I'm scared too, you know. I don't want to make either of our parents' mistakes."

When he placed one of his hands over mine, his fingers were cold. "That's not going to happen, Sydney. I won't let it."

I shook my head, looking at the ground. A nagging thought rose in the back of my mind, disrupting the elation of the moment. "But I go back home to England in a few months."

Carter was unwavering. "Then we have the best few months now and we figure something out."

"What do we figure out? I've got two years left at uni at home, you've got a year left here. And even then, what do we do? Coming to England would mean giving up any chance of a football career for you. I don't want to commit to doing this, to finally get what I've wanted for so long, only for it to fall apart after a couple of months."

Gently, Carter nudged my chin up so that I was looking into his eyes. "We'll do long distance. Hey, if your Dad's going to be moving here, too, then that's all the more reason for you to visit over here. Then I'll come to England or you can come here or we'll go somewhere completely new."

A glimmer of hope began to bloom inside of me, despite my best efforts to be logical and rational. Then, Carter leaned down and touched his forehead against mine, whispering, "I don't care where I am. I only want to be with you. I swear to you, I will not let you down."

In that moment, I realised that if I thought coming to Yale had been a leap of faith, this would be something else entirely. Something that didn't need a strict plan or a list of precautions. I loved him and he loved me, and sometimes that could be enough.

"I guess we might just get away with it," I replied,biting my lip against the smile growing on my face

Carter moved away slightly, flashing a grin, then added casually, "Oh, and happy birthday, by the way."

I laughed and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close as the rain continued to pour down on us. I slipped my arms around his neck and pushed myself up onto the balls of my feet, closing the distance. When he finally kissed me, it was unlike any kiss we'd ever had; for the first time, this was a kiss with a future.

T H E  E N D