Maybe

We sat in a deserted parking lot whilst it down poured right outside the car. The radio played softly in the background. “I’m scared,” I whispered weakly. “Of what?” he replied in a sharp tone, the anger peaking through. He thinks I’m scared of him, I told myself. I should be afraid of him. He’s given me more than enough reasons right from the start. But I’m not. I’m only scared of myself. “I’m scared they’re going to tear us apart. It’ll get too much, and you’ll leave me.” “I’m never going to hurt you El. Hurting you would hurt me even more,” he assured me. “After we get our diplomas, we’re leaving and we can never look back. It’ll be worth it.” This idea had always scared me since he first proposed it but I didn't want to say that now. What if one of us changed our minds about each other?