Abigail and Preston

When Abigail fell in love with Preston they stood in the chill of the morning air. She glanced over at him, underneath too long bangs, and took in his dark jeans and hands shoved in his pockets. Though it was the middle of October, he wore only a t-shirt in the cold air. She pushed her bangs back, staring straight up the road and didn’t look back at him until she got on the school bus. He passed by her quickly, sliding into a seat far in the back.

Abigail saw him once in the hall and her eyes widened. She almost acknowledged him, but thought better of it. Preston wasn’t her friend. She was just a shy little girl to him.



Preston was seventeen when Abigail’s father offered him a job. Manual labor wasn’t his dream job, but he needed the money that summer to buy a car. He took the job.

In the middle of July, Preston was invited to join Abigail’s family on a camping trip. He was shoved in the back of an old SUV and Abigail crawled in on the other side. She looked at him a little shocked, before sitting beside him. Her aunt climbed in after Abigail, and the teenager’s cheeks started turning pink.

Preston put on his seat belt, bumping into her hip as he tried to fasten it. Abigail’s cheeks flamed brighter.

Preston didn’t think anything of it. The car had no air conditioning and Abigail was sandwiched between two people.

As Abigail’s father drove, Abigail pressed her legs together, trying to keep from touching him. Preston tried to ignore her distaste for him.



Abigail tried not to let her eyes linger as Preston stripped off his shirt and started towards the water. She trained her eyes back on her book and scooted towards the edge of the small dock, so he could pass by her. She tried to ignore his footsteps on the floating dock, but she shook as he walked towards her. He smiled down at her and then dived into the water.

Preston resurfaced and looked towards the dock, but Abigail’s head was already bent back towards her book. Preston frowned.



Preston graduated and his parents never showed up.

Abigail stood next to her father, who smiled at Preston and shook his hand, congratulating him.
She gave him a small smile but kept quiet next to her father’s side. Her long red hair fluttered in the breeze and she shivered. Preston almost offered her the jacket he knows is in the back of his car, but Abigail’s father is saying goodbye and leading them away.

Preston bit his lip as he watched them leave.

His best friend pulled him away for a photo with their other friends and Preston misses Abigail glancing back at him.



Abigail graduated two years later. He’s not invited by her or her father, but he scams a ticket from his next door neighbor who isn’t friends with Abigail.

Sitting on the bleachers, Preston wondered whether he should have brought her something. There were more than a few people holding bouquets of flowers or balloons, searching for their graduate sitting on the football field.

Preston didn’t find her after the ceremony.



Abigail went away to college. Preston only knew this because he stood in the driveway next to his car as Abigail burst out the front door, carrying a cardboard box. She shoved it in the back of her the old truck and turned around, angry.

She stared at him for a moment, like she was trying to figure out where she knew him from. Abigail’s father came out of the house, also carrying a box, but he put his in the truck with more care. He greeted Preston and when Abigail disappeared back into the house, he didn’t explain why Abigail was so angry. Preston didn’t ask.

Preston helped her load a desk into the back of the truck but they never said a word to each other.



The next time Preston saw her, she came home for Thanksgiving. Preston was renting a room in Abigail’s father’s home. It wasn’t Abigail’s old room, but it was right next to it. Preston was outside, chopping wood for the fireplace. He was trying to seem busy and less like he was avoiding Abigail’s extended family inside the house.

Preston watched the truck pull up and wondered who was in it. He put down the ax and walked toward the vehicle just as the driver was getting out.

Abigail’s red hair was braided like a crown around her head. Her lips were pink and her scarf was dark around her pale throat. Preston watched as she grinned at him, truly happy to see the older man. She had gone away two years ago and hadn’t been heard from since. All Abigail’s father received was postcards with the words ‘I’M ALIVE’ written on the back.

She came closer to him and held out her arms, waiting for a hug. Preston had never touched her before in his life, beside that time he helped her after she fell off a bike when they were kids. He reached out and let her hug him tightly.

Preston buried his cold nose into her scarf and let her whisper quietly, “I missed you.”

When they pulled apart, Preston told her, “I missed you too.”