My Butterfly

placing her hand on my arm again.
    My stare found Jeff. He was rolling his eyes.
    “Unbelievable,” he huffed, turning away.
    I smiled and returned my attention to the girl.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “Don’t mention it,” she said, sending me a wink.
    ...
    I stopped Lou at the top of the county road. My chest was tight. It had been tight all day, which made it kind of hard to breathe at times. I took in a deep breath, and it came right back out. My eyes fell on the butterfly weed in the passenger’s seat. Its plastic stem looked exactly like it had the day I had bought it. The girl in the dime store said the orange flowers were made of “real silk.” I hoped Jules liked them. But more so, I hoped she understood why I had chosen them.
    I picked up the flowers and examined them again. The note I had written was attached to the flowers’ stem by the little, white string or ribbon. It was a ribbon—not a string, evidently. I had promised the girl in the dime store that I wouldn’t call it a string anymore.
    I peeked at the note one more time. It still said the same thing it had said the last twenty times I had looked at it: I’ll love you until the last petal falls, Jules.
    I took a deep breath again, and this time, I let it out slowly. My grandmother was the reason I had thought to do this for Jules. She had always had these flowers planted all over her garden. I remembered asking her one day why she had planted them everywhere, and she had told me that these were the flowers that brought the butterflies back every spring. I remembered watching out her window one warm, April afternoon, just to make sure she hadn’t been pulling my leg. But sure enough, I saw the butterflies. And I went back last weekend to see the butterflies. They were one thing certain, when everything else wasn’t.
    I tugged at a petal on one of the flowers. It didn’t move much. It seemed to be on there pretty tight. I smiled a satisfied grin and turned my eyes to the gravel road again. It was time to face the music. I laid the flowers back down onto the passenger seat and stepped on the gas.
    Moments later, I pulled into her parents’ driveway. The thought of her leaving made my stomach sink. I edged down the white gravel and eventually brought Lou to a stop at the base of the drive. Jules’s jeep was there too and already stuffed full of the life she wanted to take with her to college. I sighed when I noticed that there wasn’t any room for me.
    Jules was on the passenger’s side. I watched her for a moment try to stuff one, last piece of her life into the jeep. It reminded me of that first day of school when I had watched her try to squeeze her big duffle bag into her locker, and it made me smile. And for a moment, I almost couldn’t believe that I had had the chance to call her mine for these last, perfect years.
    Eventually, it looked as if she had finally gotten whatever it was that she was trying to fit into the front seat secured, and she met my stare. I smiled at her. Her hair was up in a ball on the top of her head. Pieces of it, though, had come loose and now invaded the sides of her face. After a few more seconds of taking her in, I lifted the door handle and stepped out of my truck.
    “You all packed?” I asked.
    She peeked inside the passenger’s window and then looked back at me.
    “I think so,” she said.
    I watched her take two tries to close the door, each time putting the little weight she had into persuading the door shut.
    “I told you you’d get in,” I said.
    She paused and looked up.
    “And I was right about the scholarship to run track too,” I added.
    I could see her lips starting to give way to a smile.
    “Well, we can’t all make it into the fire academy,” she said, finally getting the door closed.
    I chuckled once as my eyes turned down toward the ground at my feet.
    “I brought you something so you remember to remember me,” I said.
    I tried to swallow, but there was a lump in my throat. Instead, I looked up to see her taking steps toward me. She was wearing those little jean shorts that she always wore and a tank top with her favorite band stretched across its front. And she was tan—that summer sun kind of tan that made her blond hair blonder and every part of her that much more irresistible. I tried to smile, but in the end, I knew that I couldn’t hide how I really felt.
    Eventually, she got close enough to touch me. Then, she threw her arms around my neck and pulled my face