Free For All You Have Left by Laura Miller Page A

still doesn’t matter. I’m twelve and a half too, and I don’t even know what it means.”
    I pull my hand back and start out of the shed again.
    “Wait,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me back yet again.
    He looks at me with that little devilish grin he gets sometimes, and for the first time, I notice that the little gap that used to be between his two front teeth is gone.
    “What makes you think that just because we’re twelve, we don’t know what love is?”
    I try to show him how annoyed I am by forcing my free arm to my hip. “We’re just kids.”
    Andrew laughs once.
    “Speak for yourself. I’m a man.”
    Without even thinking, I bust out laughing.
    Andrew just stands there—straight-faced. “Well, at least I got you to laugh.”
    I smile and shake my head back and forth.
    “I love you, Logan,” he says again.
    He releases my arm, and immediately, I cross it with my other arm over my chest.
    “And you wanna know how I know I love you?” he asks.
    I stare at him for a second and then playfully roll my eyes. Butterflies have somehow gotten into my stomach, but there’s no way I’m letting him know that.
    “I’ll take that as a yes ,” he says, flashing me a wink.
    I really try hard not to blush.
    “I know because when I see you, I smile. I know because when I’m not with you, you’re all I can think about. I know because when I hear good news, you’re the first person I want to tell. And I know because when I hear bad news, you’re the first person I want to talk to.”
    He’s quiet for a few moments then. I am too. I feel stunned— as if for the first time in my life, I just have no words. And I just can’t seem to take my eyes off the packed dirt that makes up the shed floor at my feet either. I’m too nervous to look up at him. Just a year ago, I think I would have rather died than admit this, but I kind of liked what he said, and I’m scared he might take it all back.
    “You’re right, though,” he says.
    His words grab my attention, and I slowly turn my eyes up to his again. Please don’t take it all back.
    “I’ve never been in love before, but if this isn’t love, what else could it be?” he asks.
    I’m quiet until I realize that all the things he said he feels, I feel too. It’s not really a revelation. I think I knew it all along. I just never dared say it out loud.
    “Andrew.” I can barely hear myself talk—maybe it’s the rain or maybe it’s because I can’t believe what I’m about to say.
    He meets my gaze.
    “I think I’m in love too,” I whisper.
    I hold my breath for a whole long, agonizing second before a cheesy grin stretches wide across his face.
    “Come on,” he says, pulling me out into the rain.
    “What? No, Andrew, what are you doing?”
    The rain looked pretty good a minute ago—when I just wanted to get away. Now, not so much.
    We get a few steps away from the shed before he stops, and the downpour instantly engulfs us. I can barely see him through the big, icy drops sliding down my face and hanging on my eyelashes. But I feel him squeeze my hand, and then he turns toward the field and I notice his chest rise as he inhales a big breath of air and then shouts at the top of his lungs: “I love Logan Cross.”
    He looks at me when he’s finished. That big, silly grin hasn’t left his face. His hair is pressed down and dripping. There are raindrops on his eyelashes. His clothes are drenched and hanging off of him. It makes me laugh, and all of a sudden, I’m tasting the salty raindrops in my mouth. I swallow and laugh some more, then take a deep breath and shout as loud as I can: “I love Andrew Amsel.”
    And just like that, I don’t feel the chill in the raindrops anymore. I don’t feel the weight of my rain-soaked clothes, and I’m no longer blinded by the big, salty drops clouding my vision. Because somehow, I can still see Andrew’s big brown eyes smiling back at me, and right now, that’s all that seems to