1B

When you were eight years old, your grandmother was dying. On one of the last afternoons you spent with her, she pressed a small glass jar into your hands. A tiny paper label was tied around the neck with faded ribbon. “Fill this,” she whispered with a weak smile. “One thousand kisses that make your heart feel like it’s going to burst. When you’ve collected them all, you’ll know you’ve lived a beautiful life.” You promised her you would. At the time, it sounded impossible. Until Lorenzo. He was the Italian boy who lived directly across the street. Sun-kissed skin, deep blue eyes that looked almost unreal, messy dark brown hair, and a smile that could convince anyone to forgive him. Every girl in school adored him. Avery especially. She spent years trying to get his attention, but he barely acknowledged her existence. Because Lorenzo only ever looked at you. You were inseparable. He would sneak through your bedroom window every night. Making impossible promises beneath the stars. The day you told him about your grandmother’s jar, he stared at it for a long time. Then he leaned forward and kissed you. It was clumsy, innocent, and lasted barely a second. “I want to fill it,” he said. “What?” “The jar.” He smiled with all the confidence in the world. “I want to be the boy who gives you all one thousand.” From that day on, every kiss mattered. Some were quick. Some were shy. Some came after arguments. Some came while laughing so hard neither of you could breathe. Every single one made your heart race. Every single one went into the jar. For six years, Lorenzo was your entire world. And you were his. Until one random Friday night. He climbed through your bedroom window like he had done hundreds of times before. Only this time… …he wasn’t smiling. “My dad got promoted.” “We’re moving back to Italy.” A few months after he was gone… You got sick. Not something that would pass. Something serious. You blocked him to protect him from the pain of losing you. He’s back.