Every Saturday, it didn’t matter if it was raining, if it was cold, or if it was sunny, Noah would text me from across the street right before midnight. I’d delete the message from the unrecognized number and I’d say goodbye to my parents and go upstairs, to sleep. That is what they were supposed to think. I would close my bedroom door, and immediately take my pajamas off and look through the window, waiting for him to leave. I’d jump out of my house and meet him in the right side of the closest corner to our houses.

Usually he was already waiting in the car, but that night he was late. He might have had an argument with his parents, who didn’t like me at all, just as my parents didn’t like him. They came to live in the neighborhood at the same time as we did, and the very first day they had an argument to see how much of the road each one could use to park their cars. Since then, everyday they looked  at each other with fire in their eyes, hoping for the other to make a mistake to have an excuse to be mad. A good reason to hide from them, I guess.

When I saw his car leaving the garage, it was time. As soon as he turned right around the corner, in our meeting point, I opened my window and jumped onto the big tree, the one that my little brother and I used to use as our hiding place when we played outside when we were younger. From the tree I jumped into the backyard, and getting out of the fence was something I had already done so many times before. It was an easy job. The difficulty was running away without my parents seeing me, but, of course, practice makes perfect.

When I was outside, I followed Noah’s car, and turned right in the same corner, as we did every night when we met. I saw him waiting for me in the car, smoking a cigarette as he always did when he was nervous. I ran into the front seat and hugged him, but he didn’t hug me back. A silence went all through the car. I could hear nothing.

“Did you really think I would not find out?” he said with a lost look.

I didn’t know how to answer him. I mean, I knew he would know some day, I would have told him, but I didn’t think it would be that early.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well, you did.” He finally looked at me. “Look, I’m not gonna say I don’t want you to stay, but it is your life and I totally get it, okay? I get it, we lie to our parents every week to be able to see each other. I get that you wanna get out of this place, we both know you hate this town, and I do too, but I want you to be happy no matter where, or who you’re with. What I don’t get is why you would lie to me after all we’ve been through. I just don’t get that!”

He never yelled, and even though I could see the anger in his gaze, that didn’t bother me. What hurt was seeing the deception he showed that night for the first time in years, just like my parents used to look at me everyday, just as if it was my father when I didn’t get A’s, or my mother the first time I told her I loved him. The same look everyday, from every single person I loved.

I quickly left the car, and one of the rain drops covered my first tear. I ran away, not knowing where I was going, but knowing from what. It is not that I didn’t love him, I mean, after two years spending days and nights together it was obvious I was in love. Or maybe I wasn’t. I didn’t know for sure because I guess love is something you don’t understand. Or maybe you do after a long time. Or maybe you never fall in love, maybe you just choose what to feel. Maybe…

In that exact moment, while I was trying to make up an excuse to prove myself that I did the right thing, a car stopped right in front of me. My breath went away for a second, scared that something bad could happen. I had my eyes closed, because of fear, I guess, and I slowly started opening them. Besides the lights of the car in my retina, I could hear a door closing. The next thing I remembered, I saw my best friend, the one I hadn’t talked to in a while, because I was too busy getting into a discussion with my family, or trying not to be caught whenever I met Noah.

He always had been by my side, and I was too occupied to worry. Tears kept falling down my cheeks, this time because I didn’t know how much I missed Ryan until I saw him. It wasn’t until we had been separated. I realized just how much he still cared about me. He hugged me so strong that I could feel his heart against mine. He didn’t care if I chose a college 10 minutes away from home or 1000 miles, Ryan was the definition of love, not in a romantic way, but in friendship; more family than my own family ever was. We knew each other since we were born, through the years we learned how to deal with the small differences, and in the present, closer than ever.

I never went back to live in my hometown after leaving my childhood thousands of miles away, but he remains the person who stays by my side everyday, who truly knows me and who will never judge what I am, no matter what. He is my one and only.