You watched my reaction to your story.
"I know a boy," I said, and paused.
Your eyebrows lifted. You waited.
"I know a boy in Wisconsin," I said, and faltered again.
I watched a small smile spread slowly over your face.
"Is there more to this story?" you asked me softly.
I stared at the ground, trying hard to hide my smile. "There might be."
You took my hand and I glanced up. There was a knowing smile on your face. And you waited for me to speak again.
"I hope there is," I said, barely above a whisper.
You smiled again and just walked quietly beside me. I think you were waiting for me to say more. But I didn't. Because there was too much to say and I didn't know how to start.
After a bit, you began to tell me more of your stories. But you didn't forget. I could see it in your eyes. Whenever I got quiet, you smiled at me. You told me a bit about Wisconsin. Said you'd been there before. Said it was pretty up north.
I hope you get to meet that boy in Wisconsin someday. He'd like you.