The first time Sam kissed Kent McFuller was when they were in third grade under the willow tree in his backyard. How fitting that it was one of the last things she saw before she died, the taste of him still on her lips. The years she spent between the third grade and the twelfth suddenly felt wasted. All that time that could've been spent kissing Kent McFuller, wasted. Because the next time she kissed him, it felt like a century had been leading up to it, and as she broke apart, pressing her forehead to his, she knew that if she had the choice, she'd wait as long as she had to for another one.

But she didn't have the choice, so this had to be it. Sam hadn't known kissing could feel this good, this right. She'd kissed plenty of boys plenty of times, but when she finally kissed Kent - without ever seeing it coming, even in the midst of everything happening he still managed to surprise her - Sam was surprised at how much she wanted it. She'd been hearing her whole life - or at least her whole life since the fifth grade - how amazing kissing was. And she sort of just shrugged at Lindsay, but when Kent kissed her, and she felt like she was irrevocably and completely his, no talk from Lindsay or her mom or the Seventeen magazine she used to hide under her bed could have prepared her for that feeling.

It was the kind of kiss that made her wonder what quality of life she'd been living up until then. But it wasn't just the softness of his touch, or the way she seemed to melt into him, to forget where he ended and she began. It was the little things. Like how his hands were so, so warm. And they way her heart broke a little when he said, "They're always like that," because she had forgotten. She wished she hadn't forgotten any of it. She wanted to hold his hand every day and feel his body heat unthaw her heart a little bit.

It was the way he seemed to have a perpetual blush. And whenever heat rose to his cheeks, he smiled, even if he were uncomfortable, or embarrassed, or confused. It was knowing that she made him blush out of happiness, that she was the reason he was rosy-cheeked in the hallway.

It was the way that she could see him out of the corner of her eye in Mr. Daimler's class. It was funny how many classes she spent daydreaming when looking at him was the most distracting thing in the world. When she watched him curl his lip up every time he was concentrating on one of Mr. Daimler's questions, she wondered what it would be like to have a study date, watch that expression in full view, to kiss him on the corner of his mouth to uncurl his lip.

Sam thought that if she'd just talked to him that very first day, she would've been able to skip all the rest because she would've known the reason she was living all around. It was to give as much love to the world as she possibly could. A big reason she figured it out was because of the love Kent managed to pour into her, even when she crying and angry and as broken down as she had ever felt, she felt that love.

The night she finally accepted how firm and unwavering Kent's love for her was the night she was finally ready to change. There were a lot of messed up things in the world, herself included. When she heard Juliet's story in the woods that night, her heart ached more than ever. Learning more about Lindsay, about a friend she had taken for granted, and how all that pain had hardened her - well, that just about broke her heart. But it all seemed to fade away after a while. Only her greatest hits. If there was one thing she could leave more of before she left, that's what she wanted to give.

Every kiss she had with him was rewriting her entire history. Every time he brushed up against her was changing her entire biology. It made her want to go back to the stables and ride the horses until sunset, and even then, under the stars and the full moon, sit on the horse's back, close her eyes, and listen to the sounds of the world.

She'd do anything to go back to the third grade with him. She'd give up everything, her popularity, everything she'd been for the past nine years just to be able to sit and watch him be who he is. Sam had never realized just how beautiful that was, someone unashamedly deciding to be who they are, no matter what. It was the kind of courage she had lacked.

When he looked at her that sixth night, brushing a hair behind her ear and apologizing for doing it, she knew he was giving her his heart, and that she had the complete power to break it if she had wanted to. It was also then that she knew that no matter how weak she was, she'd be strong enough to carry it however long he would let her. If she had only known what it was like to be his, there may never have been any accident, or any painful decision to make.

But there was. There was only one way for the story to end. No number of nights lived would change it, and no kiss from Kent would make it go away. She'd only get one night with him. That had to be enough for her, because if it wasn't, Sam didn't know how she'd be able to chase after Juliet knowing the outcome. Even though she was going to die, even though there was no way around it, Sam knew in her heart of hearts that there were no two people who could have told the story better than they.

One whisper into his ear calmed all the raging seas inside her, and told her what she had to do. Like a feather, she would drift down and away and into the place where she did not to go but knew she must. His love promised her that she would land softly.