Two Masked Hearts - ✓ #WattysShorts

Eight

The sun started to sink below the horizon. We sat on chairs around a fire that we haphazardly put together. I felt so comfortable with him. We never ran out of things to talk about. It was all just so easy.

A pizza box sat between us, three pieces remaining. I offered them to Miles, and he shook his head, so I closed the box and tossed it to the side, being sure to clean my hands with sanitizer afterward.

"So tell me about your life," Miles prompted. We sat far apart and weren't wearing our masks, but I could barely see him in the glow of the fire.

I opened my mouth to say something, when my phone started buzzing in my pocket. "Shoot, it's my mom. I have to take this." I answered the phone and mouthed, Sorry! He just shook his head signaling to me that it was fine. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey! I haven't heard anything about your date and just wanted to check in with you, make sure you're okay."

"Yep, I'm fine, don't worry." I hated worrying her, but I didn't blame her at all. I knew how difficult this was for her.

"That's good. Oh! Are you still with him?"

"Yeah, I am." I felt weird talking about Miles in front of him, and I secretly hoped he couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Oh, Ev, sorry for bothering you! I'll hang up now."

"No, no, Mom, it's okay, don't hang up."

"I should hang up," she insisted, guilt clear in her voice.

"Wait, don't go. How are you? Are you okay?"

She inhaled noticeably. "Yes, I'm fine." She said that so quickly, I didn't believe her.

"Are you sure?" I asked, tentatively.

"Yeah. It's. . . ." She trailed off. I wondered if she was searching for the right words or if maybe she wasn't sure at all what the problem was. "It's lonely here."

"I know. Mom, I'm so sorry."

"No, no, don't be sorry. It's my fault. It's all my fault."

My heart broke at her statement. My throat hurt, but I was desperately trying to maintain composure and be strong for her. "It's not, Mom." We both knew I was lying, but I couldn't have her thinking like this. "Do you need me to come home?"

"No. I'm a big girl, I'll be okay." She got quiet for a moment, then continued, "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Mom. I love you. Call me if you need anything at all."

"I will. Have fun."

"Bye," I said finally and hung up the phone. I looked back at Miles and apologized profusely.

"Don't even worry about it," he said dismissively, and I decided to drop it. "Is everything okay?"

I nodded even though it wasn't entirely true. "I'm just worried about my mom. My parents are getting a divorce."

"Oh, Evelyn, I'm so sorry."

I shook my head. "It's nothing like what you've been through."

"Everyone has their own thing they need to deal with. We can't compare with each other because no matter what, someone is going to be worse off with a bigger struggle than ours."

"Wow, I never thought of it that way."

"So even if you think going through what I've gone through would be worse, you are completely valid to have your own struggles. We can't all be expected to stay strong all the time. We're bound to falter at some point."

"I falter all the time," I admitted.

"It may feel that way to you," Miles told me, "but you're stronger than you think."

A half-smile formed on my lips. "You don't even know me."

"I feel like I do." Miles stared at me more intensely than I've ever seen anyone stare at anything. Even more than when I long for chocolate in candy stores, so that's really saying something. "This might be crazy—honestly, I think I am—but I feel like I've known you forever."

"Me, too," I admitted. "It's so easy to talk to you. You make me feel comfortable."

"I like you, you know."

My eyes grew wide. Did he mean what I hoped he meant? "I like you, too," I said, confident that I could play it off as a friendly like if he didn't feel the way I did about him.

"I like you more than I've ever liked a girl before. You make me feel different, in a good way. I feel all tingly and happy when I'm with you. I feel like I don't have to be afraid. I mean, gosh, I've never asked anyone out on a date before."

"It was a date?" I asked, excited. And a little nervous.

Miles nodded. "I mean, I thought it was."

"Then it was a date," I confirmed, and he smiled.

"It was a date." He ran his hand through his dark blond hair that looked like flames coming out of his head in the glow of the fire. "But I mean I really like you. And I know you don't live here, and I have no idea if you even feel remotely the same way, but I want to be your boyfriend and take you on dates, and if it weren't for COVID I'd want to hold your hand and kiss you on the beach under the stars." He sucked in a deep breath because that was a crazy long sentence. My stomach did somersaults. My heart felt like it was going to explode. I felt lightheaded, the world spinning with possibility. "Tell me I'm not crazy, tell me you feel the same way."

"I do," I said without hesitation. At this, he smiled and seemed more composed, more relaxed, more confident. Beautiful. "I've never dated anyone before."

"I haven't really either," he said.

"Honestly, I'm not really sure why you like me." I knew that I shouldn't be going here, that I shouldn't talk about this, but I had already started. "I'm not really pretty. No guy has ever liked me before. I don't think. . ." I searched my mind for the right way to say this, but it failed me. "I don't think you'd like me if you really saw me."

"I think you're wrong. You are amazing, and funny, and kind, and so much fun to be around. You push me out of my comfort zone, something I never do. You've shown me what living is really like, what life can be. And I want it. I want all of that. I want you."

These were the kindest words I'd ever heard, and a part of me still didn't believe him. But I knew I had to trust him. It seemed like he wanted this—me—and I wanted him, too. Badly.