All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Our Last Kiss
My name is Ava. His name is Logan. You probably know this is a love story right off the bat. It went something like this…
I was in English class when I first noticed him staring. I tried to inconspicuously look back to see if he had stopped. He hadn’t. When the bell rang and I was walking out of the class, he came up to me.
“Hey, I know this is going to sound creepy, but I think you should go out with me sometime,” he said over the din in the hallway.
“Um yeah, I have a really busy schedule, lots of stuff to do. I don’t think I have time,” I replied trying to let him down easily.
“I know what you’re trying to do; you’re doing the whole letting-me-down-easy bit. Well, I am a very stubborn individual so I will not take no for an answer,” he responded. Oh boy, this is going to be difficult I thought to myself.
“Here, how about we talk first, get to know each other, but I bet within two weeks you’ll fall in love with me,” he told me. ”Here’s my number.” At that, he took my arm and wrote his name and number in huge letters. So, I don’t forget to text him he said to me. Then the bell rang. Great, not only do I have a creepy guy who I now have to text or face another one of these sketchy conversations in the hallway, but I’m also going to be late for class.
Later on that night, I was thinking about him, he really wasn’t that bad looking, just came off a bit strong. He was tall and fit, not exactly muscled, but not skinny fat either. His hair was blond and shaggy, sometimes covering his eyes which were the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. They were blue with a brown ring around the pupil. I decided to text him. I sent: “Hey, it’s Ava.” Within seconds he replied saying: “Hey, how’s it going beautiful??” Okay, he was smooth, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a creep. I sent back: “Pretty good, homework’s a drag, though.” He responded: “I feel the same way! Look we already have something in common?.” I didn’t mention the fact that everyone hates homework. I figured I’d cut the kid some slack.
We texted for the rest of the night, and when I checked the clock, it was 1:42 AM. How did time fly by so fast? The thought time flies when you’re having fun popped into my head, but I quickly pushed it away. I guess he wasn’t so bad to talk to. He was actually quite funny and really sweet. We shared the same interests and had lots in common, except for my hatred of classical music. Apparently he loved it, and my “mind isn’t open”. That is a direct quote. I found myself looking forward to texting him again.
We texted and talked to each other on the phone for a couple weeks when he asked me out. He made a picnic dinner and we sat in the middle of a huge field with the stars and the moon above us. It was the perfect night because the sky was cloudless. He knew I loved the stars and constellations. When we had finished eating, we lay down and gazed at the night sky. I pointed out Orion and the big and little dippers, Cassiopeia and Andromeda. It was by far the best first date I’d ever been on.
After we had been together for 3 months, I realized he was the most amazing guy I could have ever asked for. He did the sweetest things. One time when I was sick, we were talking on the phone when he said he had to go. Around twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and my mom said it was for me. I told her to pass on the message of whoever it was. Instead of my mom at my door, however, it was Logan with a thermos of soup and a to-go cup of tea. He came over, gave them to me and then put his arms around me in the most comforting, feel-better way.
While we were walking one time, I remember his saying that first day that I would fall in love with him within two weeks. I realized he was right. Everything was perfect until the day it wasn’t. It was over Christmas vacation. We hadn’t seen each other in awhile because I went up to my aunt’s place in Vermont. When I came back, I was so excited to see him. I ran to him and hugged him, but something wasn’t right. When I looked up at his face, it was so sad.
“There’s something I have to tell you, Ava,” he said somberly.
“Shoot, is something wrong? What happened? Who does it have to do with?” I bombarded him with questions.
“While you were in Vermont, me and Claire had a thing,” he replied without looking at me.
“Oh,” I responded. All I could say was that. I felt like all the wind got knocked out of me and I was going to cry in about three seconds.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to keep it from you. It was because I missed you,” he tried so desperately to say the right thing that would make me stay with him.
“Because you missed me?! Are you kidding me? I have to go. Just don’t even try to talk to me or stop by or anything,” I told him.
“No, Ava, please don’t do this, it was once, and it didn’t mean anything!” he said, trying to pull me closer.
“Then why did you do it?” I asked calmly, walking backwards a step with each word.
Over the course of the next week and a half, I got flowers with an “I’m sorry” message, an announcement over the loud speaker, constant texts and voicemails, and notes in my locker and thrown onto my desk saying how awful he felt and that if I gave him a second chance, he would never do it again. I received all of these daily. Everyone said I should forgive him. Did they put themselves in my shoes? If he cheated on me after not seeing me for a week, what would he do after two weeks, three weeks? Every time I passed him in the hallway I would look the other way because I didn’t want him to see how heartbroken I was over him.
It was January 16th when a friend, that he and I shared, told me the news. Logan was diagnosed with Leukemia. He had gone to the doctor for a checkup and had told his doctor that he had feelings of nonstop fatigue. They took a complete blood count test or a CBC and they noticed an unusual amount of white blood cells. They did the test for Leukemia and he tested positive. He had stage four. I was so shocked when I heard the news. I couldn’t breathe and my vision was blacking out. I realized that I had to make things right between us. The next class I had with him I walked right up to him and said, “Hey, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think you should go out with me again.” The biggest smile spread across his face that was forever burned into my memory. That would be the image I thought of whenever I thought of Logan.
“This isn’t because…” he trailed off. He knew that I had found out.
“No, I did hear, but I’m doing this because I want to and I realize how much I still love you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day. I want to spend as much time as I get, with you,” I answered him. He stared at me for a while as if not believing what I was saying.
“Do you really mean it? I mean I love you too, I just didn’t think you would ever come back to me,” he blurted out, making sure that I wouldn’t change my mind.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Alright then, may I accompany you to dinner tonight?” he asked in a mock proper way.
“Yes you may, thank you for asking,” I replied, smiling.
From that moment on, I was there by his side whenever he needed me. He did the same for me, and we were perfect for each other. I would never forget the way he smiled or how he always tripped over his untied shoes. I would never forget the way he could make me laugh without even trying on the worst possible day. I would certainly never forget the way he looked at me on the hospital bed, with hope shining in his eyes that we could make it through this. And when he pulled me close and whispered that he would love me alive or dead and we kissed our last kiss, I realized that I would too. He would always be in my heart, and I in his. When he flat lined and the doctors rushed to save him, I was so sad I couldn’t even cry. All I could do was stare at the straight green line and hear that final monotone ring in my ears.