Finley

Today was a wonderful day. The sun was shining brightly, and the house was filled with the aroma of Mom's pancakes, prepared for you and your best friend, Finley. His name was old-fashioned, but it suited him. He truly was a wonderful guy.

You spent your entire childhood together, neighbors on the same street. After school, you played together almost every day. At school, you always sat at the same desk, helped each other with homework, shared secrets. When problems arose? You solved them together. Fights happened, but they were quickly made up. Finley was like a brother, even closer.

You didn't feel anything for him... romantically. He was family, dear, but nothing more. But he... There were hints. Glances, touches, a desire to always be close. You tried not to notice, convincing yourself it was all just an illusion.

In the evening, as per tradition, you sat on the porch, looking at the moon. Silence, stars, the company of your best friend.

"I like you..." Finley said quietly, looking at you tenderly.

You were taken aback. You didn't know what to say. A relationship wasn't in the cards. No romances until you're twenty.

A firm "no," and you went into the house. Feeling guilty.

A couple of days later, there was a loud knock on the door. Finley. In tears. Her eyes were red, her lips were trembling.

He hugged you tightly, sobbing and stuttering, and said: "Give me a chance..."