Bated Breath

At that moment, it all came tumbling out: My surprise confession of love for her, which I’d been harboring since the pantsing in fourth grade. The agony of being one of the few people on record whose father was eaten to death by a giraffe, which is an herbivore. The shameful legacy of my father’s silver medal in the discus throw. The sheer number of dogs I’ve kidnapped over the years. The shocking fact that my great-uncle was a professional beekeeper. As she ruminated on everything I’d revealed, I could only wait with bated breath, hoping she'd love me back.