By Kristina T. Saccone

We never made out in the crypt because there was always someone there, around a corner, not sneaking but eerily quiet. I wasn’t sure if we avoided it because we worried about getting caught by the rector or just the possibility of a jump scare. Sean said it was too echo-y for loud kissing anyway.

We never went to the gazebo to smoke because it was open on all sides, even though it was halfway between the boys’ school and the girls’ school. I’d perch in the third window from the door, the one overlooking the parking lot, to catch a glimpse of Gabe when he left campus to grab lunch. Sean watched for Andrew, hair slicked back, button nose, slender legs and rosy cheeks. Not my type, but hey, everyone’s got different taste. 

We never got to drama class on time because we wanted to make an entrance. Ms. Morris played along as long as we also took improv seriously. The afternoon she wouldn’t let Sean audition for Adelaide in Guys and Dolls, we both walked out and swore never to return.

We never made it to Gabe’s 16th birthday party, and let’s face it, we weren’t actually invited in the first place. But it felt good to skip it with Sean, smoke cigarettes on the playground behind his apartment building, and sing show tunes loudly, hoping that someone would hear us. 

We never sat together in chapel because Sean wanted to be on the boys’ side with Andrew. When they left to go to the gazebo together, I didn’t even notice, biding the time reciting poetry in my head. 

We never visited the gazebo together after that. I went back to drama class and got the role of Sarah in the musical. With his Sinatra-esque swagger, Andrew played Nathan Detroit. One afternoon, Sean caught me smoking outside the theater door with the other Adelaide. That’s when I knew we’d never speak again.  

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Kristina T. Saccone crafts flash fiction and creative nonfiction. Her work has appeared in 365 Tomorrows, The Bangor Literary Journal,  Emerge Literary Journal, and Unearthed, and she curates Flash Roundup, featuring the latest releases in flash fiction. Find her on Twitter at @kristinasaccone or haunting small independent bookstores in the Washington, DC, area. 


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