the entire history of you — ilya.

She stole my first kiss at nine.

Told me to close my eyes because she had a surprise for me.

"Why?" I asked, eyes wide behind the lenses of my huge glasses. "I already can't see too good." I pushed them back up the bridge of my nose and huffed a frustrated sigh.

"Just do it, okay? She said echoing my same frustration but for very different reasons. And then she started to count.


My breath hitched in the back of my throat, heart fluttering with anticipation for whatever mysterious surprise it is that Lena promised to give me. My birthday was already a month ago and she got me something already, so what gives?


I squirmed where I sat impatiently, eyes held shut so tightly I even started to see little white flashing lights on the inside of my lids.

"What could you possibly have to show m—"

But she cut me off by clearing her throat and talking louder, over my inquiry. 


I sigh again, this time louder and more annoyed so she knows, throwing my arms up dramatically. But I should have known better. No display of disdain could ever stop Lena Martin from doing whatever she pleases, especially not when it comes to matters of the heart.


And then she kissed me.

Right under the huge oak tree where the two of us sit cross-legged, knees touching in the summer sun. I pulled back instinctively, and so did she, the both of us now more nervous in front of the other than we'd ever been. But she smiled when I opened my eyes, and I smiled back. 

And it was on the tip of my tongue after that, those three little words. I love you. Even then, all those years ago, I think I felt it. So much so that it was overwhelming, causing my cheeks to flush and sweat to gather along my brow as she looked back at me. But I still couldn't bring myself to say it—and still can't.


Deep down I knew I was lucky this girl even gave me the time of day, and I would have been a fool to say no. So I nodded.

"Yes."