In the morning, we meet for the first time. Her eyes are brown like the overly creamed coffee I downed on the way to school underneath the stubborn stars refusing to set for the dawn of day.
In class, a random guy heads to the front and announces her invitation to homecoming. She nervously accepts.
After school, she finds me, tells me she told him no, and hugs me goodbye.
In the afternoon, as the sun goes to hide behind the watermelon mountains, I ask her to see a movie with me.
That night, almost ten months after met, we kissed for the first time.