Some wise person once said, "watch and learn." Since that day, many have taken that advice. Some will tell you that it is the easiest way to be taught. But Jeffrey Tifton would have to say otherwise. He would have to tell you the truth. That sometimes it is the most painful way to realized what deep down you already know. It's the most serpentine route to heartbreak.

From an early age, he watched. Watched as she blossomed - hardly aware of her own charms. And though she was oblivious, no one else was. They were blinded by her stunning appearance, deafened by her laugh, and drawn like moths to the light by her carefree, don't-mess-with-me attitude. And he was no different. He, too, was sucked in by her endless energy and addictive sarcasm. They quickly became steadfast friends, but even then, he wanted more.

He had heard about Pearson for years. Complaints from her, giggles from her sisters, and knowing sighs from their father, who recognized that this was only the beginning of something much, much larger. He had been there, at the wedding, when he was finally able to witness the recurring event in person. Pearson leaning in, desperate to capture some of the nectar from those pink lips. And as he watched her fist connect with one of the closed eyes, he sighed. Because in all honesty he couldn't blame the boy. He fought the same temptation every day.

When he was nearly thirteen, he tested the waters, just barely dipping in one toe. "Do you ever wonder if we'll get married?" The answer was clear. That freezing ocean wasn't one he would be stepping into anytime soon. If he ever did at all.

When he had finally grown accustomed to the fact that Pearson was always going to be there, another shock came. "Jeffrey, how do you tell a boy, nicely, that you don't like him at all?" Jack Collins, Ethan Brown, Henry Waters. Just a few of the boys that she turned down, without hitting, and as kindly as she could.

When they were seventeen, his phone rang. "Jeffery, I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?" They met, two hours later, at a small park halfway between Cameron and Boston. He watched, intrigued, as she leaned back on the picnic table, starring out at the rolling hills.

"How do you know if you like someone?" Alex Chandler, Iantha's best student; dark matter major.

He answered as truthfully as he could, around the hard lump in his throat. "I guess when things look brighten when they're around."

The day she graduated from Berkley, he was there. He hadn't seen her in two years, and she looked different, somehow. Maybe it was her new haircut, or the way that her black gown made her eyes appear even bluer than usual. Or maybe it was the grin that took over her face when she saw him.

But it was probably the way that she hugged him tightly and the way her warm breath tickled his ear as she whispered, "Things look a lot brighter now."

They had both waited long enough. It was time for their lives to begin.

(End.)

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