Can't Believe He's Here

Mae

I sipped the Moscow Mule, slowly stirring it with my straw as I studied Tyson’s face. My brain was trying to see the boy I knew. I saw hints of that boy, but the soft, boyish features were gone. In their place were sharp, manly features.

“You’re staring at me,” he said.

“I just can’t believe you are here. Grown up. Like a real man.”

He chuckled. “That tends to happen. It’s been what, fifteen years?”

“Give or take a year.”

“You’ve changed, too,” he said. “You’re all grown up. Like a real woman.”

I smiled and sipped my drink. He had chosen a quiet lounge. It was dark with lots of amber lights that set a very romantic tone. I liked the privacy. I liked the quiet. It made it nice to have a conversation in a public place but without the need to shout over loud music.

“Do you remember when we first met?” I asked.

He cringed. “I don’t know if I remember the exact moment, but I remember when I noticed you.”

I laughed. “When I begged you and Patrick to take me to the mall that one day? You