When You Loved Me

Prologue

It's common knowledge that teenagers can be arrogant–even if they don't know it.

At the naive age of fourteen, I wholeheartedly believed that I knew everything. I used to think that my judgments were superior and that only I could determine what was best for me.

This way of thinking is what leads to the common knowledge that teenagers are really, really stupid.

My first day of high school was a blur but there's still one scene that I can recall perfectly–better than I can remember what I had for breakfast this morning.

It was my final class of the day–biology. I had gotten there relatively early and was sitting at my seat, scrolling through social media absentmindedly as my new classmates shuffled through the door.

I didn't see her walk in, but in my peripheral I noticed her figure coming closer and closer towards my lab table. She paused at the stool next to me, read the name card assigned to it, and set her backpack underneath it. I watched as she sat, giving a slight smile in recognition. She smiled back.

Once the bell rang, signaling the end of our passing period, my teacher introduced herself.

"Welcome to biology, my name is Ms Marshall and I'll be your teacher this year," she said. "I'm going to begin passing out the syllabus so, while I do that, go ahead and introduce yourself to the person next to you. They're going to be your lab partner for the semester, so may as well get to know each other."

I turned to the girl as she did me and for a moment, we simply stared at each other awkwardly. I tried to make eye contact but I couldn't.

I've always had social anxiety and one of the ways it manifested itself was my inability to look people in the eyes. My parents tell me it's rude but I just can't help it.

But it wasn't just the anxiety that made it difficult to maintain eye contact with her. It was her eyes completely–the deepest, most alluring, striking brown I'd ever seen. It scared me. I think.

She spoke first. "I'm Callie." Her voice was soft, warm, and comforting, like hot chocolate on a cold winter night.

"Amity," I replied.

She smiled again and, this time, it seemed genuine. I smiled back.

And with that started the most beautiful, passionate, and heartbreaking love story of my life.