He hugs you. It’s clumsy. His chin digs into your shoulder. He smells like gasoline and laundry detergent and something else—something that’s just him . You close your eyes and memorize it. The way his heart beats against your ribs. The way his fingers press into the small of your back.
You type back with your thumbs, slow and careful: you too. don’t forget me. Stay -2005-
Cole shrugs, that easy, infuriating shrug. “Start of senior year. My dad got the transfer. Phoenix.” He hugs you
“You better.”