HAYDEN

I didn’t turn the radio on during the drive back.

The car was quiet except for the whisper of the heater and the little clicks from the engine as it settled between stoplights. My hands were light on the wheel, the kind of loose you only get after a game-winning goal or, apparently, after kissing a girl you’ve been thinking about for months.

Every time my brain replayed that soft goodnight at the car door, I felt the same ridiculous floaty rush in my chest.

When I pulled into my ...