A/N: Inspired by Jana Kramer's song I Got The Boy.
She watches them unobtrusively. A sad, tired smile crosses her face.
Seeing him brings back memories of the old days.
I had the ponytailed, reckless street racer. The boy who would sneak under my window and wait for me to come out and go racing with him. The boy with no fear. The boy who wasn't scared of my father and would've challenged him directly if I would let him. I patched him up, kissed his cheeks, and played with that ponytail.
I listened to his plans for life. Of becoming the greatest racer in the history of ever, of finally making his adopted father proud. He tried to coax my dreams out of me, but how could I tell him about something I didn't have?
I was his past. His memories. His teenage years. Even now, ten years later, I could close my eyes and see every single moment spent with him with frightening clarity.
We'd ride around town in his pickup, his baseball cap on my head, the radio cranked up as high as it could go. He'd sing in the crackly, deepening voice of his and I'd laugh at him and show him how to really sing.
Our first kiss was sloppy and awkward in a way only two love drunk teens could make it. He'd been so nervous, so shy, so unlike him in the way he touched my face. I didn't know how I felt for that hot headed rebel child until he touched me. He was loud, brash, hot headed, and overconfident. I wore his class ring until the very end, until it wasn't mine to claim any longer.
My broken heart had been my own business. It mended and I moved on.
But she…
She studies them.
I'd seen the pictures in the paper. He'd looked so good in that tux, so grown up. He'd cut his hair. Goodbye, ponytail. But oh, that silly scarf of his was still around his neck.
He'd changed in ten years. She gets a cool, steady man. One who has learned to take life slowly and not go charging ahead with no plan. I may have gotten the first kiss, but she'll get the last. I'll have the memories, but she gets the real thing. Both of us had something the other never could have. If things had been different, which version of him would I have chosen? Pure speculation, because that's what it all comes down to:
I had the boy. She gets the man.
She quietly lifts her glass to the laughing couple, sets it down, and slips out the door.
A/N: Before anyone asks, there really is no pairing for this story. I'm really leaving it up to your imagination. But if I get any bashing for this, I will delete the comments.
