My mom walks away, and I watch her retreat toward a group of older adults. When I eventually glance back at Theo, he breaks away from his conversation and comes my way. He wraps his arm around my waist, leaning close to whisper into my ear. “All right?”
I nod. “All right.”
“Good,” he says. “How long until the big reveal? It’s hot, and I’m dying to get out of these clothes.”
“You’re wearing a tank top and shorts,” I point out. “It can’t be that bad.”
“It feels like summer already.” Theo scowls.
He’s right. It’s still technically spring, but the heat is particularly malicious today. My hair is currently straight, and I’m regretting it with every passing second. It hangs even heavier than usual, impossibly long and getting in my face. My neck is sweating, causing the hair touching it to revert back to its curly texture.
“Hey guys,” Charlie says, walking over to us, a blue drink in his hand. “Tell Eva it’s not a girl. Ashton is carrying too low.”
I blink, trying to bring myself back to the present, but Theo answers smoothly to an approaching Eva, “You’re mad if you think it’s a girl. She’s clearly having a mini Joe.”
Eva rolls her eyes. “No way. Team pink!”
I’m about to tell them all I could care less what the outcome of this party is when Ash joins our group, looking gorgeous in a long blue dress. Her blond hair is in an elegant French twist. “Having fun?” she asks Charlie and Eva. “Because we’re about to start the next game.” She holds up a ball of yarn and scissors. “Everyone has to cut a string of yarn the length they think the circumference of my belly is. The winner gets a prize.”
Charlie seizes the yarn and scissors, using Eva’s frame to measure. When it’s my turn, I take my time trying to cut a piece of yarn the right length, and hand the thread to Theo. He snips off a shorter piece than mine.
“My turn!” Chutney takes the yarn and scissors.
Everyone takes turn cutting off a string, most people using someone else’s waist as a guide, others completely winging it.
When Ash goes around measuring everyone’s yarn, she stops at Theo’s. “We have a winner!”
“You have to be joking,” I mutter.
Theo grins and holds up his yarn. “I’ve got an eye for this sort of thing, little Willow. No need to be jealous.”
Ash hands him a mason jar full of candy. “Here’s your prize, Prince Harry. Try not to brag too much.”
Theo opens the jar and eats a few pieces of candy before handing it to me.
Ash cups her hands around her mouth. “That was the final game, everyone. Now it’s time!” Ash makes her way to the center of the backyard and her mom carefully hands her a paint-ball gun equipped with either pink or blue paintballs. Joseph is wearing all white and has a protective mask on, due to what he claims is Ash’s poor aim.
“Okay, everyone.” Ash pretends to cock her gun. “Start the countdown!”
“TEN! NINE! EIGHT!” Everyone is shouting together as a group. “FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE!”
Ash completely unloads the gun, splattering ball after ball onto Joseph. His entire body is covered in paint.
And it’s pink.
A girl.
Ash is having a baby girl.
I cover my mouth, and the guests start clapping and cheering. Joseph looks down at himself for the first time, and to my surprise, starts jumping up and down. He lifts Ash off the ground, swinging her around in a circle, hugging her to him. Her eyes are moist, her smile practically causing her face to glow. She doesn’t even seem upset that he’s hugging her while completely covered in paint, surely ruining her dress, and my heart swells with happiness for her.
But I guess her intuition was wrong after all.
Ash goes around hugging everyone at the party, and when she gets to me, the paint from her dress smears onto mine.
But it doesn’t even matter.
When almost everyone has gone home, Ash turns on the outdoor lights. There’s been music playing since the party started, but it was almost impossible to hear with everyone talking and enjoying the party. Now, with only a few stragglers left, it’s hard to ignore, especially when a slower song begins to play.
“My parents are leaving,” Joseph tells Ash. “They want us to walk them out.”
“Okay,” she says. “Coming.”
I plop down next to Theo on the couch he’s sitting on and reach for his hand. “I’m going to miss you,” I whisper. “So much.”
He kisses my forehead, tenderly. “Don’t think about that right now,” he says.
“It’s hard not to.”
“We’ll both just have to find distractions to keep us busy,” he murmurs. “Until we can see each other next.”
I give him a melancholy smile. “Like what?”
“Like,” he says. “Reading. And Painting. And video chatting with one another on our phones. And ...” he trails off, his eyes shining. He swallows, and his throat bobs. “Dance with me?”
I frown at him. “You can’t be serious.”
His expression tells me he’s completely serious. “Come on, love. Don’t be shy.”
I scoff. “No.”
“This is my favorite song of all time. Are you really going to deny me, little Willow?”
“My Cherie Amor by Stevie Wonder is your favorite song of all time?”
Instead of answering, Theo takes my hand and pulls me into a standing position.
Into the center of the yard.
I shake my head, but he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. We begin swaying to the song, and my nerves ebb slightly.
“Okay,” I say, burying my face in his chest. “I guess this isn’t so bad.” The canopy of white lights hangs above our heads like stars, illuminating our dancing shadows against the concrete. The light breeze rustling Ash’s plastic tablecloths is warm. A symphony of insects chirps softly from the grass.
He pulls me against him. “No, it’s not. It’s quite the opposite, in fact.” He kisses my hair.
This is a place as happy as the one he painted for me. I could stand here in this moment forever.
And that’s when it hits me.
There’s no reason for me to stay in America.
Ash already told me I should go, that we can start back up at American River after she has the baby and I come back from London. Me staying here is just another form of me falling victim to my fears. And I’ve already come this far. “Theo.”
“Hm?”
“When does that plane ticket expire?”
“Plane ticket?” He frowns at me. “I don’t believe it does. Otherwise I’ll buy you a new one.”
I take a deep breath. “How do you feel about having a plane buddy for your flight tomorrow? And a desk buddy at your new school?” I bite my lip.
Theo searches my face, as if trying to find hints of bluffing. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t breathe, as if doing so will somehow change my mind.
“I’m coming with you,” I clarify.
Theo doesn’t grin like I expect, but instead swallows hard. His bright blue eyes are shining like a mirror, and I can see my silhouette in them, staring back at me. “Really?”
“I mean, I haven’t packed anything. But—”
Theo lifts me and spins me around in a circle. “You don’t need anything. I’ll buy you anything you want.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t want you to do that.”
“Then I’ll have all your things shipped.” Theo’s smile finally appears. It’s brilliant. Beautiful. “All that matters is you’re coming with me and I won’t have to be without you.”
I lean forward and kiss him. He tightens his arms around me.
I could worry about what the future holds. I could ruminate on whether or not our relationship will last. Whether or not something terrible will happen because of my last-minute change of plans.
But if I recall correctly, he was once a last-minute change
of plans.
Anything could happen. Good or bad. Amazing or horrific, even. But what matters is that none of it will be because of me.
Because I’m trying this new thing where I live life one day at a time. In the moment.
As carefree as I possibly can.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I really hope I don’t forget anyone.
I have so many people to thank, but first, I’m going to start with Ashley Briggs. My cousin and best friend, the person this book is dedicated to. Without you, this story would have been a laughable mess and never would have seen the light of day. Thank you for being the first person to read this book, for reading every single draft, for giving me brutal (and hilarious) feedback, for the endless, hours-long phone calls, for letting me hog our conversations to get your input, and for your endless enthusiasm and belief in this book. You’re amazing. I love you.
Next, my son Oliver. You’re too young to read at the time that I’m writing this, but I want you to know how much I appreciate you sacrificing some of our play time to let me write, and for enduring my scattered brain constantly. Your smile lights up my life every day, and I’m so blessed to have you.
Thank you to my husband, Michael, my best friend, for always believing in me and supporting everything I want to do. Your high expectations for me keep me going, and so does your love and patience. I’m so grateful we get to do this crazy thing called life together. Love you.
Thank you to my mom for never denying me a book my entire childhood, and for being an Aries with me when I needed someone to understand my indecisiveness, creativity, and spontaneity. The other signs wish they were as cool as us.
Thank you to Breanna Holquin, Nicole Donnelly, Emma Duarte, Tiffany Donovan, Nyesha S. Cammack, and Oriana Castillo Akers for being my beta readers, fellow book club members, and genuine friends. You guys are the best, and I love you so incredibly much.
Thank you to Dr. Suzanne Jones, Dr. Grageda, and Dr. Carlton Oler for the helpful info and encouragement that I’m not dying (and also for being amazing people).
Thank you to all the teachers who have contributed toward my love for reading and writing, namely Glenda Mora and Kimberly Smith, Tobie Schweizer, Barbara Finkle, Jason Tarshis, Ms. LeRoux, and Ms. Riley.
Thanks Gilbert Ramirez for being the best cosmetology instructor, and Samantha Dunaway for taking a chance on me during our first day, even though you were definitely cooler than me, and to Ana Rico for talking books with me when we should have been working on clients. And Laura Gonzales, Lauren Ramos, Alyssa Diaz, and everyone else for making that time as fun as it was.
Thank you Claire Darling for all the London info. You’re my favorite.
Thanks Wade Poezyn for letting me pick your brain about South Africa, and Haley Scott, my lovely cousin for planting the seed I needed to realize my inner strength.
Thank you to my parents, step-parents, and siblings, Zach Akers, Elijah Akers, and Taylor Rowan. If you guys made it this far, that means you actually read the book, and I feel truly honored. Thank you all for always respecting my writing time, always encouraging and inspiring me, and for being such good motivators.
Thank you to Kelly Meagher for reading the first book I ever wrote. I hope you read this one, too, and enjoy it as much as my first.
Thank you Nikita Reinhard Akers for all the help and different perspectives you’ve offered me during this process. Love you so much.
Thanks to Murphy Rae and Ashley Quick for designing the most beautiful cover I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Thank you Lillian Schneider and Alyssa Garcia.
Special thanks to Marissa Taylor. Your help and insight were truly invaluable. I’m so grateful for how above and beyond you went to make this book what it is during edits. Thank you for loving this story so much, and for having such enthusiasm for it before even reading it. You are awesome.
And finally, thank you. You, the one holding this book. Thank you for sticking with me till the end, for embarking on Willow’s crazy journey with me, and for reading the words I poured my heart and insanity into. I hope my words made you smile, laugh, and feel happy inside. I hope they made you feel like there’s someone else in the world who understands what it’s like to feel out of place.
Thank you so much for reading, for caring, and for being you.
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About the Author
Whitney Amazeen's love for reading started in third grade and has been going strong ever since. As a result, Whitney has evolved into a full-fledged daydreamer with more stories in her head than she can count. When she's not immersed in a novel, Whitney spends the majority of her time writing down stories about characters in her head who demand to be heard. Whitney lives in California with her husband and son, and can often be found drinking tea, hoping for foggy weather, and obsessing over fictional characters. Whitney is a Ravenclaw.
Read more at Whitney Amazeen’s site.
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