Last summer - Bella, Age 15 / Nico, Age 17

I can't believe Nico got us tickets to Coldplay. He said it was a birthday present, but my birthday is at at the end of September.

It's June.

Knowing Nico, he got us floor seats because he knows how much I love Coldplay. Nico likes them too, but not enough to spend a thousand dollars per ticket.

"Hurry up, Nico or we're going to miss the first song," I whine.

"I'm trying, BC, but I can't find my wallet," he complains from inside the car as he scrummages through the center console.

"Did you check your pockets?" I ask him from outside of the car. It's a simple question, but I wouldn't put it past Nico if he didn't.

He fills his jean pockets with his hands and pulls out his fancy designer wallet from the right side.

"Not a word," he jokes when he comes out of the car.

"You know? Sometimes, I worry about you."

"I don't remember putting it in my pocket," he tells me as he meets my stance. I give him an 'oh, c'mon,' look and he just skews his lips at me. It's so hard to tease him when he makes that cute expression.

"If we miss 'Fix You', I'm not talking to you for the rest of the night," I tell him as we proceed for the stadium.

"BC, it's 8:03. The concert started at 7:30, and there's an opening act. Geez, sometimes I forget how nervous you get."

"Funny, because I could never forget how careless you get," I taunt.

"Hey, be nice. I'm the one holding the tickets, remember?"

"You're right. Forgive me," I say, intertwining my hands together and giving him puppy eyes.

"Well, when you look at me like that, how can't I?"

"Sucker," I mumble under my breath.

"What was that?" Nico asks as we enter the stadium.

"Nothing," I smile immediately, but Nico looks at me suspiciously.

We pass a gift shop that's selling Coldplay merchandise, and I stop when I notice a black t-shirt with the name of the band on it in the window. "Can we go in for a sec?" I ask Nico.

"Weren't you the one who was complaining 5 minutes ago about missing the show?"

"Yes, but that was before my eyes landed on a t-shirt that I gotta have."

"Okay, but don't blame me if we miss the first song."

Nico and I walk into the shop and I run to the section where the shirts are. I reach for a Medium and flip the price tag around. At first, I think I'm reading wrong, but when I continue to stare, I realize that the shirt is indeed $75. So I decide to walk away, without the shirt in my possession.

"Where's the shirt?" Nico asks when I walk back to the front of the store, where he's waiting.

"Um, they didn't have my size," I lie.

"I'm sure that they have more in the back." He searches around the store for an employee, and then calls out to the lady who's fixing the mannequin. "Excuse me, miss, do you happen to have any mo-"

I grab his arm before he can ask the question. "Nico, it's fine. I don't need it that badly." But he looks at me confused, until it clicks in his mind. He knows me so well. He knows that I'm lying.

"Never mind," he tells the lady. He walks over to where the shirts are and starts sifting through the rack. "I'm pretty sure that you've mentioned you're a Medium." But I don't say anything. Nico doesn't even check the price tag. Instead, he grabs a shirt in my size from the rack and proceeds for the register.

"What are you doing?" I chase after him and ask, but he ignores me.

"Just the shirt?" the lady behind the register asks.

"Just the shirt," Nico nods. 

"That'll be $75 dollars, please," she says, and Nico whips out his wallet.

"It's okay, miss, but we won't be needing it," I tell her.

"Ignore her," Nico says. "We need it." The lady looks from Nico to me and then back to Nico again.

"So, am I ringing up the shirt or not?" she asks frustratingly.

"Yes," Nico says at the same time that I say, "No."

"Yes," Nico says again. "Yes."

I drop my shoulders down, and the lady hands me a paper bag with the shirt inside once Nico's done paying for it. I take it from her grip before turning to look at Nico. "Thank you," I say with a soft smirk on my face.

"You're welcome," he smiles at me. "Now, let's go. If I miss 'Fix You', I'm not talking to you for the rest of the night."

"Are you kidding me? You still have it?" I ask after Nico throws me the t-shirt that he bought me last year from the Coldplay concert. I ended up leaving it in his car and never got it back.

"Of course. I wasn't getting rid of it knowing how much it meant to you."

"Be honest...did you wear it?" I tease.

"No, but I did give it to all my hookups that spent the night."

For a second, I think he means it...because this is Nico that we're talking about. But when his serious expression cracks, I know that he's kidding.

"Not funny," I whack his arm and say, but he starts cackling.

"It was pretty funny."

I roll my eyes playfully at him. "Shorts?"

"Ah, right," he holds up his finger and says right before opening his drawer. He hands me a red pair, and I use the bathroom in the hallway to change.

When I come out, Nico is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest. He's in just a pair of blue swim trucks with a towel wrapped around his neck and nothing else. I don't fail to notice the way that he's looking at me - like he's taking in everything about me. Like he likes what he sees. If I'm being honest, it makes me feel empowered. I'm so used to my emotions being one-sided. But I can't say that that's the case right now.

"Ready?" he asks me.

No. I'm not ready at all.