2,5 years and a few weeks later
You can't trust your own memory.
That's something Connor always said while he meticulously jotted down stuff, making Sem shake his head and laugh at him. In turn, Connor had pointed out how scientific articles showed how easily malleable memories are, how even choice of words changes perception. Sometimes, memories were strong enough to make people more beautiful than they really were. Warp faces, warp feelings.
It was not true for Connor. He hadn't changed.
He was still as handsome as the day Sem screamed at him and dumped him a couple months ago.
And while Connor had crossed the street and slowed his pace, obviously spotted him, Sem's heart pounded fast for him like it did the first time they met.
"Hey."
Connor stopped in front of him. His hands were shoved in his pockets, like Sem remembered he did when he was feeling awkward.
"Hi," Sem replied, unsure whether he was supposed to start a conversation or not, or if it was appropriate after what happened the last time they 'spoke.' But Connor did before he could decide.
"How have you been?"
The cliche, obligated question. Kind of the thing you say when you don't know what else to say. Sem had to think. How much had changed in the past few months? Connor had still been around when Sem finished high school against all expectations and opted for becoming a personal trainer at the Valsten gym. At least for the time being, until he decided what else he wanted to do in his life. Mom got off his back once she realised he could handle himself. Connor had also still been around when he quit football because some of the guys never stopped acting like douches around him, and he wanted to focus on kickboxing.
"Good. I joined some kickboxing events and won a local competition a few weeks ago."
Connor smiled softly. "I always knew you'd do well."
"And," Sem added, before the compliment would get to his head and flush his cheeks, "I might get more education after all. I want to apply for firefighter training."
"Wow, more school. Voluntarily? You?" Connor whistled lowly, making Sem laugh.
"Yeah, who would've thought right? I'm sure my parents think you rubbed off on me after all. They still ask about you. So does Daniel. You'd almost think they missed you more than I did."
There was something wrong with Connor's expression, and his body had gone rigid.
Then Sem realised what he'd just blurted, and his body rigid too.
"So, how was your big project together with Queenswright university?" Sem quickly asked before Connor could respond. "Everything you expected and wanted?"
He got a pass. Connor went along with his subject switch, and raised his shoulders. "It was good. Interesting location. I already got a few job offers out of it."
Sem dipped his head and looked down at his shoes. "So you got exactly what you wanted."
"I'm not taking any of them. They all required me to move permanently, and I will stay here and finish my masters. At Valsten university."
Connor's answer was immediate and firm, making Sem glance up at his determined face.
"But..." Connor hesitated for a brief moment, then jutted a thumb over his shoulder with an apologetic half-smile. "I'm late for work. Jack is expecting me in about five minutes. And..."
He faltered, and Sem suppressed a sigh.
"Right, of course, work," he muttered. "Gotcha."
"...Right."
Connor stayed on his spot for a few seconds longer. Sem thought he was going to say something else, but eventually, with a nod, Connor started moving away from him in silence. Sem watched him turn the corner.
Blake was right: he was not over Connor at all.
Sem hated it when Blake was right, even if he knew already, somewhere deep inside. He couldn't just forget a first love, even if his first love forgot about him all the time.
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Better Sorry than Safe
Teen FictionEvery Tuesday during football practice, sixteen year old Sem Bolton finds himself stealing glances at the gorgeous college boy jogging down the path next to the fields. He was his dirty little secret. His guilty pleasure. His unobtainable fantasy: s...