It turns out that I am not a femme fatale.
I'm nineteen years old. I spend half of my time surrounded by my juniors and the other half of my time surrounded by my animals. So when he held my hand and tucked it deeper into his jacket pocket because he wanted me to be warm, I let myself hope. And it turns out that nineteen year old sports coaches with an affinity for animals and small children are not the kind of girls that can just walk away from ridiculously tall guys with bright, bright blue eyes.
We walk away, because we know we should, but there is nothing to stop us looking back over our shoulders.
