The first time Anne kissed me, it was on my mouth. I'd never been kissed before, so I'll admit I was a little lost for what to do? Put my hand on her face? Her waist?

It didn't occur to me till afterwards that I should've just kissed her back.

The second time Anne kissed me, it was to save my life. I'd chased Rufus to the lake, stupid dog was always wading in after his tennis ball, and slipped, hitting my head on the cold, grey stone.

When I came to, Anne was cradling my head in her lap, laughing despite herself. The kiss of life, she said, hadn't failed to live up to its name.

The third and final time Anne kissed me, it was to say goodbye. She held her suitcase in one hand, umbrella in the other. And because it was raining we wasted ten minutes talking about the weather. Until she said, 'I'll miss you, Thomas.'

'I'll miss you too,' I said. It was automatic, but it was true. No one was as close to me as Anne was.

She shifted her feet, Doc Martens sliding through gravel. 'You call me, okay?' she said finally.

'I will.' I nodded, throat tightening around everything else I wanted to say, starting with sorry.

Sorry I didn't kiss you like you wanted. Sorry I don't like you that way. Sorry I didn't just say something sooner.

Then she closed the space between us, kissing my cheek just before the first tear fell.

'It's okay,' she said with a sad smile, turning away from me as the taxi pulled onto the driveway, 'I prefer us as friends anyway.'