Page 3 of You Started It

I twisted my heel into the grass, deciding whether I was going to open up to this person or not. My heart told me I could, but my brain saidBe careful. I’d carried around a heaviness, this all-consuming dread, ever since…ever since.

“Things with my parents kind of went downhill,” I responded with a level stare.

“Right,” Ben said. “I heard your dad isn’t really in the picture anymore.”

“No. It’s why we’re here.”

Ben’s eyes slowly met mine, causing my heart to thump, thump, thump into my throat. “Is it wrong for me to admit I’m kind of glad you’re here?”

“No.” I smiled. “I’m kind of glad I’m here too.” And in that moment, I really meant it. “So, the book?” I asked, nodding to it.

“It’s a…um…it’s stupid,” he said, holding it up.

“How to Kill It in Life: A Guide to Achieving Everything You Want (and More),” I read aloud. “Kind of intense.”

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of an intense guy.” He rolled his shoulders back, and it was like he was letting his guard down slightly, just for me.

“I’ve also been told I can be quite intense.” By my former classmates. My father. My mother. Basically, anyone who has ever met me.

I haven’t quite found the balance between feelingtoo muchandnotenough. It’s like I was born on high alert or something. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.What now? What more can life throw at me?I’m either aware of every single thing surroundingme or I disassociate, watching the world unfold and I’m just an invisible character taking it all in.

“As far as I’m concerned, intensity equals passion, and who wants to live a life without passion?” Ben asked.

“My mom apparently,” I quipped, and Ben chuckled. Up until this point, I hadn’t found my match—not in friendship or in love. I’d been searching for that person,myperson, for my whole life. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something inherently wrong with me, something that made me unfriendable—besides my messy parents. But it became clear that day: all this time, the person I’d been searching for was Ben. Moving here was my fresh start, and Ben was my endgame.

“You can’t come over because I already have plans,” Ben says to me now. He swallows and his eyes dart away from my stare.

“I should go—I have a client,” Mom says, tossing Ben a strained yet polite smile. It’s like she’s finally clued in that she’s being a gigantic third wheel.

“Plans?” I ask Ben, as Mom heads to her salon. “Why would you make plans without me on a Friday night? I thought we could discuss our Kill-It List before school starts. Make sure our goals for the year sync up. I’ve added a few since we last spoke. I was thinking of taking calculus instead of statistics. Figured it would open more doors when university applications come around. What do you think?”

Ben reaches a hand behind his head and scratches his neck. “Maybe we could just stay here for a bit.”

So that’s what this is all about. Ben wants to be alone with me. A smile spreads across my face as I grab his hand and lead him past the foyer.

Amo Eli comes down the stairs. “Na-ah! No shoes on my new runner,” he says, pointing at my feet.

“Hi, Mr. Taher,” Ben says, nodding a cordial hello at my uncle.Mr. Taher?

“Benjamin. You too. Shoes off.”

I roll my eyes before removing my shoes and kicking them to the front door entrance. What is up everyone’s butt? Today is a great day! The sun is shining. Ben is back. And school starts in less than a week.

“And you wonder why you lose your shoes,” Amo says as one shoe ends up behind his bench.

“Do you mind?” I ask my uncle, who is barricading access to the stairs. “We kind of want to be alone.”

“Why would I mind? This only happens to be my home.” Eli steps aside and heads to the foyer where he proceeds to arrange my shoes neatly, side by side, next to Ben’s.

“Let’s go to my room,” I say, pulling on Ben’s arm.

“Leave the door open,” Eli shouts as we walk up the steps, two at a time.

“Finally,” I say, slamming the bedroom door shut and basically tackling Ben to my bed. “I missed you so much.” I bring my lips to his but he turns his cheek and crawls out from underneath me.

“Let’s talk.”

“Ugh,” I say, tipping my head back. “All we’ve done this summer is talk. When I said I missed you, I meant I missed your bod.” I try to untuck his polo from his shorts but he pulls away.

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