The Start of Me and You

Before he could, I held my postcard up, the image of me midair, nearly touching the pool water.

There was no surprise in his smile—not even the tiniest lift of his eyebrows.

I pointed to the picture. “That’s the high dive. Aren’t you shocked?”

“Nope.” He reached for my hand. My face reflected back in his glasses, but I looked past to his familiar green eyes. I could see both of us completely. “I knew you’d get here.”

My hand clasped in his, I could not have known what would happen in the time that followed—how much we could love and hurt each other. How much we could change each other. But even if I could have seen a glimpse of my future, Max was right. Knowing what happens is different from knowing how it happens. And the getting there is the best part.

I felt my feet leave the ground, the air beneath me. If I was scared, it was in that pulsing, breathless scared you feel when what you’ve just done might change your life forever. When you know that there’s someone to catch you, and he does.

He set me down, and, the moment my feet hit the floor, I pressed up onto my toes and kissed him for the exact right reason: because I wanted to. Not because he was a silly crush or an item on a checklist. Because he was Max, plaid shirts and robots and airplanes and all.

So I looked up at him, his rumpled dark hair and a flustered smile I knew so well. I almost laughed crazily—with both nervousness and relief—but instead I said, “I think I might love you, too.”

“Oh, please.” He rolled his eyes. “You do.”

I opened my mouth to agree, but before I could, he kissed me again. It was the second of so many—the second of not enough.

Max stood waiting for me, not moving closer, and maybe he had been waiting for me to take the steps for myself this whole time.

I used to think it took me so long because, on some level, I wasn’t quite ready to be with Max. But now I think I wasn’t quite ready to be me. I needed to relearn myself, to venture into new friendships and nerdy after-school activities and my own mind. I needed to realize that I was one-fourth of a family that is not normal and that no family is normal. I needed to start seeing my sister as a person, so nearly a peer, and to watch my girlfriends grow, each in her own way, together. I needed to paddle without my grandmother, despite my sadness. I needed to let go of my unknowns about Aaron, to let peace fill the empty spaces

Max!” I yelled into the distance. But he wasn’t leaving—wasn’t moving away from me. He was waiting. He stood at the base of a small flight of stairs, just three or four steps near the front doors of the school. I should have felt so crazy and vulnerable, but I didn’t. I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Still clutching my postcard, I walked toward him—because this was never about getting there fast. This was about being sure of my steps forward. They always call it falling in love, but for me? It was also a choice

Max!” I yelled into the distance. But he wasn’t leaving—wasn’t moving away from me. He was waiting. He stood at the base of a small flight of stairs, just three or four steps near the front doors of the school. I should have felt so crazy and vulnerable, but I didn’t. I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I didn’t have to be defined by Aaron or by my crazy family or by any character in a book. I didn’t need a plan. I was just me, Paige Elizabeth Hancock, and I was making it up as I went

knew it because it was true, and it was beautiful: I was living my life now

I knew it because it was true, and it was beautiful: I was living my life now