I stood outside my house in a nervous mess. I tried to move forward, but my feet wouldn’t go.It was almost one in the afternoon by the time Fabian dropped me off, and I looked back for the umpteenth time to ensure that he was still there. Just like every time I checked, he was sitting in the car under the neighbour’s tree, staring at me. “You can do this, Paris,” I mumbled, trying to give myself a push. Still, I felt stuck. With a deep breath, I grabbed my phone and dialled Cynthia’s number. She picked up on the third ring. “Paris? Where are you?” she asked, sounding distressed. I sighed. “I’m outside. Can you—um—can you meet me by the porch?” “Sure. I’m on my way.” On a typical day, she would’ve made fun of me for being a baby. But she, more than anyone, understood the intensity of the situation and our feelings. As she appeared in front of me, I felt my guilt resurface full folds. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the
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