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“You liked me?” I blurt out accusingly. I don’t understand. That memory is long before the wars catapulted into our life and changed everything. A time I can barely remember, and I definitely don’t recall on that day, either of us having any kind of memorable interaction. He stayed with his friends and I stayed with mine and then I went home with my mom before the sun went down. I would have to claw through the memories to be sure, but there was nothing to suggest he even noticed me.

“I had a crush on you, like you wouldn’t believe. I don’t know how many times I tried to talk to you and got completely blanked or lost my nerve. I used to hang out where I knew you would be, but then the war happened, and you became….” His voice tails off, eyes averting, shame washing over his expression, and I know what he means without him finishing.

I became a black sheep. One of the shamed.