Gregory Todd Williams

Every morning is a rush. Wanting, waiting, hoping to see her, and then feeling foolish when all I can do is smile and nod and say hello and keep walking. But just the chance to feel foolish like that is enough for me to get up early every morning. And feeling foolish is enough to make the rest of the day long and terrible. Because not only is she the only person I see, besides the three friends, who even comes close to my age anymore, but she’s It. Like Rollo-Greb It.

And then I remember. She’s It because she’s been It for as long as I can remember. Fifteen years? More? But what do I know about her now?

All I know is I’m no Rollo.