Finally, I look over at Seth. After a moment he leans in, plants a kiss on my bare shoulder.
“If you and I had gotten married, we would’ve gotten divorced,” I tell him, quietly. “Someone else wasn’t going to fix what was wrong with me. I had to do that. I destroyed everything I touched back then.”
“Bird, you still destroy me,” he murmurs. “But the pieces are yours.”
I close the ring in my fist, lean in, and kiss him softly.Chapter Fifty-FiveSethFifteen Years AgoIt’s the first day of sophomore year, and there’s a new girl at Sprucevale High. We don’t get a lot of new students, especially not in high school, and no one will talk about anything else.
There are whispers that her dad is really rich. There are whispers that she moved here because something really bad happened, though no one is quite sure what.
I don’t see her until second period, when she’s in my English class.
The whispers didn’t tell me she was pretty. They didn’t say anything about her being so pretty that it makes breathing feel weird, like there’s something hitching in my chest.
Pretty in a way that’s startling: wild red hair and freckles, wide cheekbones, full lips. Brown eyes.
Delilah.
Sometimes, I glance at her and she glances at me, across English class, and it feels like a hole’s been opened in my chest and I’m falling through. It’s brand new, a little terrifying. Nothing like any crush I’ve had before. Nothing like the thrill of looking at naked women on the internet. It’s a pull like I’ve been run through and hooked.
By third period, I’ve got a crush.
By fourth, I’m full-on infatuated, even though we’ve still never spoken.
Then, at lunchtime, it happens. I see her sitting by herself, at a table in a corner, and I have an idea that terrifies me. I stop in my tracks, backpack hanging from my shoulders. My friends wave at me, and I wave back.
I almost go sit with them, but there she is. By herself. Drawing something I can’t see, sitting by herself, this girl who makes me feel like my insides are sliding out.
The whole walk over I don’t think I breathe. I nearly chicken out at least five times, but then, I’m standing next to her table. The drawing in her notebook looks like a raven, its head turned over its shoulder.
She looks up at me, and I smile.
“Hi,” she says, and smiles back. It feels like being wrapped in warm golden thread.
“Hi, I’m Seth,” I manage to say. “Can I sit here?”Chapter Fifty-SixDelilahPresent DayThalia half-turns in her chair, facing me, tapping the program against one leg.
“And then at the end, they both propose to her? Even though she’s the one choosing?”
“It’s weird,” I agree. “Though the nice Bachelorettes usually don’t let the guy they’re rejecting get that far. The dude makes some speech, and sort of goes to kneel, and she’s like, ‘Noooo, don’t do that!’”
“But God forbid she propose.”
“Exactly.”
“Do any of them actually get married and stay together?”
Around us, people are drifting through the rows of seats, greeting one another, sitting down. The trees above us sway in the breeze, shade moving and shifting.
It’s a beautiful day for a wedding.
“I think a couple have,” I say. “I don’t watch it religiously, I mostly drink wine with my best friend and marvel at the life choices being made.”
Thalia laughs, throwing her head back, and I grin.
When Seth told me Caleb’s girlfriend was a year younger than Ava, I worried. I remember myself at twenty-two all too well, and I was absolutely not the kind of person anyone should have switched careers for.
But Thalia’s nothing like I was. She’s got her shit together in a way that took me years. I think she’s probably more mature than I am now.
They’ll be fine.
“That actually sounds really fun,” she says.
“Let me know next time you’re in town, we’ll make it happen,” I offer. “You’d love Lainey, too.”
“I think I already do,” Thalia says, just as a small, chubby hand enters my field of vision.
I turn my head to see Thomas grinning at me, mouth open, drool on his chin, reaching for my hair.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
He just reaches harder against Charlie’s arm until he finally makes contact, and I start laughing. Charlie looks over from her conversation with Violet and sighs.
“Dude, you can’t just grab hair,” she says, putting her finger into his outstretched hand and wiggling it. “It’s impolite.”
Thomas, who has no use for her finger, shoves it away and reaches for me again.
“I can take him,” I offer. “This’ll keep him entertained for a while.”
“Sure, if you dont mind,” Charlie says.
Thomas doesn’t mind, and a moment later, he’s on my lap, patting at my hair with wide eyes.
“Hey, cutie,” Thalia says, leaning in. “I like your outfit.”
Thomas, who’s currently nine months old, is wearing a very small and adorable suit, along with a bandana to catch the drool. It’s a lot of look.