Page 46 of Like First Love, Again

“Did he pressure you?” Mia’s spine went rigid.

“No, no. Not at all. He was very sweet.” Tori held her tight to show her it was okay. “All the pressure was self-applied. I knew I was gay, but I guess there was this part of me that just wanted to see what it was like.” She tried to remember details, but there was nothing remarkable about the experience.

“And then?”

“I don’t know.” Tori fidgeted with the wristband on Mia’s watch. “Nothing dramatic or traumatic or earth-shattering happened. I’ve dated on and off since, but never been in some huge relationship. Never moved in with anyone. Never adopted a cat that led to a custody battle.” She chuckled. “Larissa says I’m picky, but I think I just… I don’t know… I think I’m just not willing to settle.” Ready to share the time under the microscope, Tori switched topics before Mia could ask anything else. “So, what happened with med school?”

“What happened with basketball?” Mia shot back like their childhood dreams had been at all equivalent.

“I’m 5’7 and mediocre, Mia.” Tori laughed.

“But you love it so much. You should see your sweaty little face when you’re playing. It’s adorable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I should have picked up the phone when the Sparks called.”

“Shut up.” She chuckled. “There aren’t only two extremes, you know? It’s not just playing professionally or not at all. You could coach kids, or play in one of those adult leagues where everyone is in knee braces and compression sleeves.”

“Stop deflecting.” Tori kissed Mia’s temple, still in awe that she could do that whenever she wanted. “Spill.”

“I just,” she shrugged, “didn’t get in,” she replied like every single syllable was excruciating.

“How many schools did you apply to?” Tori couldn’t fathom Mia not getting something she wanted, and she’d wanted to be a doctor more than anything.

“Enough.”

“How many times did you try? Were admissions just once a year?” Tori pressed.

Mia was quiet for so long, Tori regretted having broached the topic. After Mia had planned such a thoughtful date, she didn’t want to ruin the end.

“After opening thirty rejection letters, it’s pretty hard to sign up for that torment twice,” she said in a voice so soft it didn’t sound like hers.

Tori clutched Mia close, wishing she could suffocate the sadness weighing down her words. “We’re not what we do.” She kissed the top of her ear. “Our lives aren’t measured by what we accomplish.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not a fail?—”

“Stop.” Tori buried her face in Mia’s neck. She kissed her until Mia relaxed. “You’re so far from a failure,” she whispered against the shell of her ear.

Tori stopped short of telling her she’d breathed life back into her stagnant existence. That she’d inspired her to be brave and take risks and try. That she’d shown her it wasn’t too late for anything. Mia could seize the world by the throat if she wanted, and Tori would be behind her every step of the way. Next to her. Pulling her along. Whatever she needed.

But as pushy as Mia was, she hated being pressured. They’d talk about med school again when Mia was ready.

It was fully dark and neither of them had made any effort to move when Mia suddenly said, “You really should play basketball more often. Can’t you start a semi-athletic lesbian league?”

Tori smiled, relieved that the playful tone was back in Mia’s voice. “I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “But I don’t know. Life gets so busy.” She went back to playing with the metalbracket on Mia’s watch. “Plus, you know how superstitious I am. Every game I ever won, you were sitting in the bleachers.”

She was about to say that Mia was leaving in a month—that they hadn’t talked about what would happen next—when Mia turned her head and looked at her.

“Did you just call me your good luck charm?” Mia’s eyes were glistening and her smile blinding. “Are you trying to make me swoon in this parking lot right now?”

She reached back, fingers at the base of Tori’s damp neck, and pulled her in. When she kissed her, it was slow and deep and shattering—like they’d kissed a thousand times in a thousand versions of their lives and were finally getting it right. Tori felt it like a karmic blessing.

Mia’s lips were soft and warm, tasting like salt and sun. Tori let herself be kissed like she was something precious. Something to be cherished. Something rare. And when Mia’s fingers curled tighter at the back of her neck and she moaned, Tori knew she’d live another thousand lives just to taste her again.

“Where did you come from?” Mia muttered against her lips. “And what could I have ever done to deserve you?”

Tori didn’t have the words to tell her that she’d been there all along. That Mia didn’t have to do anything to earn love. That she deserved it for merely existing.

And then Mia was kissing her again, her tongue more insistent. Her teeth sharp where they tugged on Tori’s bottom lip.

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