first date that never happened? πΏππ
Henry's envelope was still empty.
He had written and re-written enough letters that a graveyard of crumpled parchment had begun to form in the back of the classroom. Now, Henry was pacing back and forth. With every step, his leather shoes made a click-clack sound against the hard wooden floors. He had to come up with something soon--this would be his last chance to say something.
Suddenly, there came a knock-knock-knock. Henry turned around to look; standing by the door was a boy with hair the color of freshly cut grass. "Hi, Henry," said Clover.
Henry couldn't find his voice. He hid the empty envelope behind his back and stared in surprise.
"I just finished saying goodbye to everyone else," Clover said. He was still standing in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter.
"Okay," Henry mustered.
"So, now I just have to say goodbye to you." Clover walked steadily closer, as if worried Henry might take flight any moment.
Henry planted his feet on the floor. Evening sun streamed through the windowpanes and spilled onto the walls. Clover seemed to glow in the light.
"Henry, I'm really glad I met you," Clover smiled. They were only a few paces apart.
Slowly, Henry took the empty envelope out from behind his back and looked at it, and then at Clover's face. An idea struck him. He set the envelope aside, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small drawstring bag.
"Henry, what are you..?" before Clover could finish asking, Henry had poured a significant number of coins into the palm of his hand, and held them out to Clover.
"Take this," Henry said. He tried to keep his voice steady. "It's for your travels."
Clover looked stunned. Then, his gaze softened. He took the coins from Henry, hands brushing for an instant. Clover nodded his thanks.
Henry's feet burned, but he stayed still. It felt like an eternity passed while Clover made his way to the door, out of the classroom, out of Henry's life.
Henry could only hope Clover had understood.
