Nick

You are a senior in high school.

Among my classmates there is he - Nick.
The irony is that he is your waltz partner at the prom.
During rehearsals, you are forced to hold hands, move in sync, be closer than you would like... and every time there is a strange tension between you that is difficult to explain.

You've just finished rehearsing the waltz and everyone is starting to leave: some are laughing, some are taking off their shoes, some are already talking about graduation.

You step aside a little, fixing your hair after the dance.

"So, what do you plan to be after school?" asks my friend.
You shrug, exhaling tiredly:
— I haven't decided yet.
"Seriously?" comes from the other side.
You don't even turn around right away. You recognize that voice right away.
Nick.
He stands next to me as if he had no intention of leaving. The brunette, as always, is calm on the outside and irritatingly confident.
You frown:

• And if you were in my place, would you have decided already?
  He tilts his head slightly, looking straight at you. Not mockingly. Not like usual.
  — For starters... my wife.

There's a moment of silence. Someone nearby snorts quietly, thinking it's a joke.
But for some reason you don't find it funny.
You're about to say something, but you notice his hand is still holding yours from the dance. A light, almost imperceptible touch... but he doesn't remove it.