Until I Met You

epilogue

I'm lost in a sea of blue caps and gowns, drifting between bodies that huddle together to form an ocean of students no longer quite children anymore. I shift through the crowd, making my way to the front of the arena, hit with a sudden realization: I'm not a kid anymore. I graduate today. This is it.

Though it's been a whirlwind of a year, and high school has been more fun than I'd thought it'd be, I'm not sad. This chapter of my life may be coming to an end, but I'm not worried in the slightest. I know that it is now time to write a new chapter, one filled with much more than the first. My life is only just beginning now.

Reaching the front of the crowd, next to the stage, I spot who I've been looking for easily. He's talking to our principal animatedly, blue eyes intensified by the color of his gown.

My heart flutters a little at the sight of Luke, even after all this time. I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing him; don't think I'll ever get used to the thought that he is all mine.

It still feels like the first time whenever I'm around him, and I hope the feeling never wears off.

As if sensing my presence, Luke suddenly glances up. Our gazes lock instantly, Luke offering me a wide grin as the sunlight reflects in his irises. I wait patiently as Luke excuses himself from his conversation before making his way over to me.

"Hey," he says, lips curling in a smile of greeting. "I was hoping I'd catch you before I had to go up." He gestures to the stage behind him, smile faltering.

"Look at you!" I exclaim, teasing. "The valedictorian is nervous?"

"No," Luke scoffs, wearing a poker face. His expression soon gives way to a sheepish smile as he admits, "Well, maybe a little . . ."

"Don't worry about it," I soothe, taking Luke's hand in mine. "You're going to do great. If you start getting nervous, find me in the crowd. Pretend it's just us talking."

I'm sure this is nerve-wracking for Luke, knowing he's about to give a speech in front of the entire graduating class, plus everyone else in attendance. However, I have faith in him. Luke has always been a natural speaker. He can draw you in with a single word, capture your attention without trying.

"Okay," Luke agrees, nodding slowly. "It'll be like I'm talking to you . . ." he trails off, nervously lost in thought. I rise and plant a kiss on his cheek before my lips meet his, cupping his face with my hands.

"You'll be perfect," I whisper against his lips. "You always are."

"I love you," he says in return. He says the words easily, as if he doesn't need to think of them before speaking. I've always wanted that sort of simple love, safe yet spontaneous, intimate yet immature, deep yet easy.

"I love you more," I tease as Luke wraps his arms around me, pulling me into another kiss.

"Impossible," he argues. "Let me have this one. For luck."