P.S. I Still Love You

dreamed you into being. Of all the boys, you’re the one I would pick.”
“But?”
“But... I still love Peter. I can’t help it. He got here first and he... he just won’t leave.”
He sighs a defeated kind of sigh that hurts my heart. “Goddamn it, Kavinsky.”
“I’m sorry. I like you, too, John, I really do. I wish... I wish we got to go to that eighth grade
formal.”
And then John Ambrose McClaren says one last thing, a thing that makes my heart swell. “I don’t
think it was our time then. I guess it isn’t now, either.” John looks over at me, his gaze steady. “But
one day maybe it will be.”