Conor opened the back door to my school a bit further.

“Is this really happening?”

I bolted over to him and stuck my head into the opening, as did he. The dark corridor with lockers to the left and right stared back at us, showcasing the wooden main hall shining golden in the sunlight on the other side as if it was some magical dungeon where we could find the main reward of the video game we were playing.

That can’t be a coincidence or a mistake. Someone has to be here. Maybe a teacher? Or a janitor? There were two cars parked here, after all.

“Are we… should we go have a look?” Conor nudged me into the building as if this was the opportunity of a lifetime.

“You mean, like, go inside, get locked in, being forced to call the police so we don’t starve to death because we can’t find a way to get out, and then get me expelled because I technically broke in?”

“Yeah, like that!” He laughed. “Then you have to move far away because your picture will be all over the news, and you’re forced to choose LA because nobody will care about you, thanks to all the celebrities.”

As he felt that my body wasn’t easily nudged, Conor bolted his head inside instead. My hands automatically grabbed his shoulders as if he was a small child about to jump into the heavy evening traffic. Exploring the inside is intriguing, indeed, but it would also be one step too far, wouldn’t it?

“Come on. I’ll show you the football field instead.” I turned away from the entrance and tried to pull Conor with me.

“Scaredy cat.”

I immediately stopped moving. My eyes were riveted on Conor.

“So you think I’m too scared to go in there?”

“Aren’t you?” His malicious smile let me know that he was just teasing me.

“Well, after you then,” I replied, shoving him into the building, closing the door behind him, and pressing my body against it.

Now trapped inside, Conor laughed but straight away pressed his body against the door as if he never wanted anything more than to come back outside.

“There’s actually a reason I wanted to go to the football field, but I guess you’ll never find out,” I yelled.

He laughed even harder as he stepped up his counterattack. The door budged a bit, and I had to use all of my muscles.

“At least they can’t expel you after you get arrested,” I whooped.

“Come on, let me out,” his muffled voice pulsed through the door.

“Oh, now you want out? Okay!”

I instantly let go of the door, and since he was still pushing, it swung wide open, catapulting Conor into freedom. The door loudly crashed back into its angles, and we tried hard to hold back our laughter.

“So, football field?” he innocently asked.

“Only if you race me.”

My opportunity to avenge myself had finally come. How often has he started a stupid game without telling me and then won it because I couldn’t prepare? Over the last weeks, I said to myself that the first time I had the chance, I would take it, not even looking back if he joined in.

Because he will. It’s Conor.

So I yelled, “One, two, three, go,” and started sprinting away from the back doors, trying to gain as big of a head start as possible. But as if he saw it coming, he was already right behind me.

Thankfully he didn’t know the way to the football field, so I decided to go through as many obstacles as possible. First, we had to slalom around the tables we just sat at, trying not to run them over. I turned to Conor, who had a winning attitude already written on his face, and as I turned my head back to the track, the chair he had sat on was more in my way than I had anticipated. I quickly pushed it under the table to not stumble over it and was surprised that it now looked even neater than before.

As I remained ahead of Conor, I tried to increase my speed. But I could feel he was good competition, even though he wasn’t playing football anymore. I ran toward the gym on the opposite side of the court, right into the next obstacle: some park benches people usually sit on while waiting for their gym classes. I knew I would lose a bit of my head start if I ran around them, so I gained momentum, jumped up, landed on the seat, and took another leap to enlarge my distance. A quick peek revealed that Conor didn’t copy my move and therefore fell a bit back. Yes, it worked!

Now I just have to head right to get behind the gym, and I’ll be on the football field, winning this short chase. I went into all-out mode, and as my feet were on the grass, I slowed down, panting from that sprint.

“I won!” I yelled, hardly believing my luck.

Conor kept speeding up as if he was about to tackle me.

You didn’t say when it would end," Conor shouted, "The bleachers seem more like a final goal, don't they?" and passed me by. They were on the opposite side of the field, and… I’ll be damned if I let someone who didn’t play for years outcompete me on my home turf, not even when it’s probably the love of my life.

I started sprinting again, and for some reason, I felt the urge to tackle him to the ground as if this was a real football game.

Conor peeked at me to see how far away I was, but he was soon about to realize that I was only inches behind him. I can be fast, and it’s easier on a field I’ve run on a lot before, even though I was wearing the wrong shoes to be super fast.

Right on the fifty-yard line, I reached for his shoulder, and as I could barely grab his shirt, my feet jumped without thinking, and we both fell onto the soft grass. Me on top of him.

“That was against the rules,” he gasped with laughter.

“Football fields means football rules.” I pushed myself up, so I wouldn’t squish him. Conor rolled onto his back as I let my body fall beside him.

“That was interesting,” he panted.

“Running?”

“That you tackled me down. I thought you might wait until we’re home until you do that.”

He laughed at his own dirty joke, and after I shook my head, I joined in.

“This is my school. It’s broad daylight. We’re on a football field where anybody could catch us. I’m not going to—“

“Just kidding! I’m not eager to go down that route here, either. That would be… way too strange.”

I turned my head toward him, and he did the same. Conor has the most amazing eyes I have ever seen. I was never drawn to the eyes of another person like his. I never thought I would want to be with a person so much in my life.

“You’re still pretty good,” I said. “Nice sprint.”

“Same.”

My eyes wandered over his soft face while he kept his gaze on me.

“You shouldn’t keep looking at me like this,” I whispered.

“Why?”

“Because it makes it nearly impossible for me not to want to stare and kiss you all the time.”

“Good to know,” he said, and I got the impression that he locked his eyes even harder on me. I raised my head to search for anyone around. But it was only us.

“Good thing we’re alone right now,” I whispered, leaning over him. Before I knew it, Conor had shoved his fingers into my hair and buried his tongue in my mouth.

And with that, I already knew this was the best date I could have ever had with him. Because it’s not even about what we’re doing (even though kissing him in the middle of the field felt great), it’s about being with him and feeling that he enjoys his time with me as much as I do.

We panted even harder from the kiss than from chasing each other on the field.

“Yeah, let’s not proceed further down that path here,” he whispered. And he was right. Since that back door was open and we weren’t particularly quiet when I locked him in and chased each other through the court, ten to one, it was only a matter of time until someone came to look at who created that ruckus.

I pushed myself back onto my feet, held my hand toward Conor, and after he took it, helped him up as well.

“Good game,” I said and shook his hand in a sporty manner.

“Good game,” he replied, and we headed toward the middle of the stand to chill for a bit.

The field in front of us was huge, and I always liked being there. Whenever I saw a football field somewhere, I was drawn to it. I had to sit there for a moment to soak it in because it always gave me a sense of a homey feeling. And when we were younger, Conor shared that passion as well.

This is it. That’s the moment and place I waited for. This is where I’m going to ask him.

“The first time we met was on bleachers like this,” I stated. I can’t believe I’m committing to do it.

“First Grade,” Conor stretched his arm out in front of him as if he was on stage, giving a grand monologue. And therefore kind of interrupting, what I was going for, but let’s see.

“Our Dads brought us to a game of the local I-forgot-it’s-name college.” He got up and spoke as if an audience of a thousand people was listening in. ”We sat in the back row.” He hopped up into the back of the stand and squatted down, lowering his voice, “and I was super scared of all the angry big dudes. So I hid behind Dad’s back. Accidentally, next to you,” he pointed at me. “Someone I had never seen before and, at that moment, thought I would never meet again. But you,” he climbed the stairs back down again, and as awkward as his performance was, as lovely was it to hear it from him, “you couldn’t look at it, me not enjoying the brutality of the game. So you grabbed my hand,” he grabbed mine, “dragged me all the way down to the field,” he pulled on my arm and even though I was a bit hesitant I played along, until we both sat on the grass again, “and showed me that the players wouldn’t tackle us—just each other. But the story wasn’t over. It was only the beginning. Because the next day, we noticed that we went to the same class but hadn't yet realized it.”

He raised our hands and bowed as if people were clapping for his performance, and as soon as he let go of my hand, I did.

“You’re a natural.”

The sun shone directly into our faces, and there was my stare at his face again.

“I can see now why you stopped playing football.”

And as I said that, Conor’s expression changed. As if I, by accident, started a topic that I shouldn’t have.

Shit. That wasn’t my goal.

He crossed his legs and sat straight as if he was ready to come out with something.

“Ash, I—.”

“Can I say something first?”

Conor held his breath, and I felt terrible for interrupting him. But I wanted to go through with why I actually started that topic about where we first met. He let out a sigh that, to my surprise, almost sounded as if he was almost relieved that I had cut him off. Maybe he remembered me hinting a few minutes ago that I wanted to come here for a reason.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Conor stated with a smile.

I took a deep breath.

My legs started shivering as I thought about what I was going to say, but there was no turning back, not on this.

I cleared my throat, and as I wanted to start talking, my mouth felt harshly dry. But I’m sick of excuses. I have to go get the stuff I want. And this was at the top of my list.

“When you first asked me if we could visit my school for our date, I fought you were crazy. But as I pondered what I could do to make it special, the clearer it became that it was, in point of fact, the perfect place to spend time for us. And I mean here, the bleachers especially.” As he did minutes ago, I pointed toward the metal frame behind us, “Because of that story, you just acted out so… theatrically.”

My palms felt sweaty in the sun, and I rubbed them against my pants.

“Back then, when we first saw each other, I couldn’t tell that I wanted to have you in my life forever. Also, not when we met again in class. Not during all those weekends you stayed at our place. ‘Cause I never wondered if there might be a time when you wouldn’t. This just was unthinkable. You were always there, and I thought it would always stay like this. And when you told me you were about to leave, I wasn’t prepared for it. It was still unthinkable. You, not by my side every day? That… couldn’t be real. And it drove me mad because nobody seemed to understand what was going on inside me."

Conor listened carefully to every word I said, patiently encouraging me to keep going with a smile.

“Yet, we’re here again, together. For so long, it seemed impossible, but in the end, it was not. And even though there’s so much physical distance between us, I’ve never felt closer to you. Or anyone. And yesterday showed me that I don’t want to play hide anymore. Only one day was already enough to make me feel like it would kill me inside to keep this, us, a secret.”

I lowered my gaze, as I could feel that the further I got, the harder my own words hit me.

“I want to make things right, not just with Milo, Leo, Will, my family, and… all of the other people wronged. But I realized that I’d rather take the risk of someone calling me a hypocrite or hating me forever or whatever else ill consequences might happen if people found out that I feel more for you than just friendship. I’d rather live through all of that than risk losing you in the process because I was too afraid of some ridiculous stories I told myself about everything turning to shit if people found out about us.”

I took a deep breath, searching for the words I wanted to say next.

“The harsh truth is that this ugly thing I did will always be part of our story, no matter how one looks at it. And as much as I feel shame for it, maybe it was necessary, so I could really see what was going on inside me, how I truly feel for you. I don't want to wonder if I would have known if you hadn't left. But I can honestly say now what it is. It is love.”

Conor took my hands and squeezed them as if he wanted to show me that he was still there, listening, and he wouldn’t go away.

“I love you, Conor. And I never want to be without your love again. I mean, we already saw where that got me.”

A white butterfly flew around his head, and the way the sun made his smile shine, it looked like he had jumped right out of a Renaissance painting.

“And that’s why… I want to ask you… do you, Conor Hart…, want to be my boyfriend?”