Sam and I were becoming more than friends. We grew up down the street from one another and had been walking home together from school since fifth grade. However, it took until the beginning of 9th grade to get up the courage to ask her out and it took a brush with death to find the courage I needed. “Is that a mustache?” Sam said to me on our first day walking home from our first day at Bandon High School. We live on the coast in a small town in Oregon. It used to be a popular place for beach vacations, but the water is cold and the shoreline is rocky, except for the point. It’s a place I used to go fishing with my dad. We would talk and watch the sunset over the ocean, blue water covered in electric pink. “No”, I said, embarrassed, instinctively covering my upper lip. “It’s not too bad. I mean it kind of makes you look like your dad in that picture you have in your room.” “Yeah, that’s what my grandma said.”, I grinned and felt the hair stand up on my neck. We walked on and I did...