1984, Shermer, IL.

John stood at the back if the school, leaning on one of the trees there as he waited for you. He knew being with you like this—the notes passed, the secret meetings, the touches that went unnoticed by others—was risky, but he didn't care.

He saw you walking towards him and smirked, letting his arms fall to his sides after having them crossed. He put his hands on your waist when you got within reach, pulling you closer.

"Miss me?" He asked, his face inches away from yours.