Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Sean,
It’s taken me some time to decide if I should continue these letters.
Part of me still worries you might be upset hearing about the first boy I ever loved.
Ultimately, I’ve decided that I want you to know him even if it’s only on paper.
Maybe I’ll never even send these. Maybe it will just feel cathartic to get it all on paper, who knows? So, here it goes…
It took an entire year for Bennett to notice me.
My first day of freshman year in chemistry was the moment everything changed. I got lost, turned around in the hallway, and ended up being ten minutes late.
All the good seats were taken, and I searched the room for an empty chair. Everyone was paired up at the tables, and I feared I’d be the odd one out.
But then Mrs. Pritchett said, “Delaney, you’re with Bennett Owens.”
My gaze drifted to the back row, and there was Bennett sitting alone, one elbow on the lab table, his gaze on me.
I’d hardly spoken to him since the firefly jar incident. He was taller now, broader through the shoulders. I’d seen him a few times that summer on the ranch, but he was usually horsing around with Emmett and their friends.
Walking farther into the classroom, I felt every stare, and heat flooded my cheeks. I slid onto the stool beside Bennett, and of course, he didn’t say hello. He probably didn’t want to be my partner either.
Then to my surprise, a couple minutes later, he whispered, “Catch any fireflies lately?”
My cheeks went from warm to blazing. He was making fun of me. I straightened, turned my back, and tried to focus on Mrs. Pritchett, not the scent of Bennett’s cedar cologne.
The following day was our first lab project. We were supposed to be measuring chemical reactions that day, but my hands shook so badly that water sloshed over the beaker’s rim. He gave me a reassuring smile and took the glass from me and refilled it to the precise line.
“I wasn’t making fun of you,” he whispered, eyes on the measurement line.
I noticed that Bennett was painstakingly detail-oriented and a little bit of a perfectionist. He recorded everything, never trusted memory alone, and his notes were meticulous.
I didn’t answer, so he continued. “I didn’t know what to say. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe I’m hanging around Emmett too much.” He chuckled and offered me a soft smile.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
He set the beaker down and leaned back on his stool. “Come on, if we’re going to be partners for the semester, we have to get along. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” I said because even though I’d wanted his attention, now that I had it, I had no idea how to handle it.
“Is that your way of forgiving me for my lame joke?”
He lightly cupped my elbow when I didn’t look up from my notes, and I finally faced him. There it was again, that quiet internal click, but this time, it felt stronger.
“You’re forgiven.” I figured that would be the end of it, and we could be cordial lab partners, and my ridiculous crush would eventually fade.
But his smile lit up the room, and I knew that whatever I felt for him had gone from a silly crush to more, but I had no idea what and knew that he’d never pick me because we ran in different circles.
Weeks passed, and thanks to him, I was actually passing. Chemistry wasn’t my thing. We traded a few words here and there, but nothing deep. Still, every day, butterflies dive-bombed my stomach when I saw him already seated at our station. He was always there, always reliable.
One afternoon, I felt tension radiating off him through the entire class. When the bell rang, I gathered my things, but his hand curled around my wrist.
“Hey,” he said, as if we hadn’t just shared forty-five minutes of class together.
I turned, startled to find a nervousness in his eyes that he’d never had before.
“The football game tonight… you going?” he asked.
“Um…”
He hesitated, as though he didn’t want to scare me off, before adding, “You should. We could go. Together, I mean… if you want.”
A hush settled over me until I realized he was asking me out. Or was he?
“Like a date?” I blurted.
He gave the smallest shrug. “Yeah.”
And that’s when I knew.
Bennett Owens would be my first love, whether or not I ever became his.
“Okay.” I nodded.
His grin spread wide enough to send sparks ricocheting through me. “Great.”
I was terrified. The jumping-off-the-edge-of-a-cliff kind of terrified, but I realized fear is often the first sign that something truly matters.
After that football game, Bennett and I were inseparable.
Delaney