Travis

Finally, eleventh grade is over. You and your class are at the graduation party at the seaside. Since fifth grade, you've had a bullying enemy—Travis. You reassured yourself:
"We won't see each other after this."

Everyone's been relaxing all day, and you're at the bar with a cocktail. Travis approaches: tall, dressed in white, as if glowing. He grins:
—Alone. Always alone…

You ask him to just hold out until morning. Suddenly, he suggests a walk away from everyone. You go to the pier. You sit on the edge, your feet above the water. The silence is heavy. Travis admits:
"I've been irritating you on purpose for the last seven years. I just didn't know how to get your attention."

You're shocked. He touches your chin and says he's been looking for you every morning. He leans over and asks:
"May I?" He kisses you softly, almost hesitantly. It smells of sea and salt. Somewhere, the laughter of classmates, but here, it's only you. *

• He whispers:
  —I don't want tomorrow to come.