“Holy crap!”
London startles me, and I almost drop an entire container of coconut milk soup on the floor. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t be reading this right.”
“Can’t be reading what right?” I ask.
“You remember Go Green?”
As if I could ever forget. “Of course, why?”
“The secretary of the CEO emailed me asking if we can schedule a call. It looks like they’re interested in referring us for a potential sponsorship opportunity with one of their clients.” London’s eyes are wide with excitement.
“That’s amazing!”
“Apparently Declan manages their accounts and put in a word for us with someone on their team. Did you know about this?”
I shake my head. “He said he was going to talk to them. I guess that means he called in a favor.”
“It seems that way. They’ve been watching our social media and they really love what we’re doing with the adventure camp collaboration. They’re particularly impressed with the use of recycled products and the ecofriendly approach we’ve been using, according to the email.” She sets her phone on the counter. “It’s just a phone call, so we can’t be sure of anything yet, but I’m crossing my fingers.”
“Do you want to go over the notes from last time so you’re ready?” London likes to be prepared for calls, which means reviewing notes and going over potential questions.
While we eat dinner, we review the mile-long list of ecofriendly practices we’ve adopted at Spark House, and hopefully, if all goes well, the call will turn into a meeting and we’ll come out with a great sponsor for future events.
London is keyed up, so she pulls out her laptop and starts going through spreadsheets. I help Harley clean up, and then I head to my room to get ready for bed. It’s only closing in on nine, but I’m beat.
I check my messages, noticing Declan has gotten back to me. He responds with a series of questioning emojis and “I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out.”
The next morning I get up early, throw on a pair of jeans and a warm sweater, pull on a beanie and my coat, and head out into the brisk morning. I park my car in the lot behind the coffee shop and head inside, but I don’t see Declan anywhere. I check my phone. It’s just eight now, so I get in line to order while I wait for him, firing a message to ask if he wants his usual.
“Avery, macadamia nut latte,” the barista calls out. Her name is Ellie and she’s worked here for a long time, so she knows my order by heart, but she’s not fast enough, or psychic enough to know I’d be coming in at exactly this time today.
I look around the coffee shop, assuming there has to be another Avery who loves the same lattes I do, but no one steps up to claim it.
Ellie calls my name again and looks around the shop. When she spots me, she holds up the travel cup. I recognize it as Declan’s. I leave the line to claim my coffee.
“Hey, Avery! It’s good to see you again!”
“You too. Staying out of trouble?”
“Unfortunately.” She pushes the cup across the counter.
There’s a piece of paper under it. I assume it’s a coupon or a promotion, but upon closer inspection, I discover it’s a note. “What’s this?”
She gives me a sly smile. “I’m not sure, but I was told to give it to you when you came in to pick up the coffee and that you’re not supposed to order anything but the latte.”
“Those are some very specific instructions.”
“Yes, they certainly are.” She’s smirking now.
“Is that all you know?”
She shrugs. “I was supposed to give you the note and the coffee and nothing else.”
“If I gave you a twenty, would you have more information?”
Her grin widens. “I was given a twenty to provide only that information.”
I laugh. “Fair enough, have a great day, Ellie.”
“You too, Avery.”
The note has me stopping at a bakery two blocks down, where my absolute favorite muffin—which is usually only available seasonally—and another note wait for me.
Avery,
I hope you enjoyed the macadamia nut latte. I’m sure you’ve already finished it, and burnt the roof of your mouth because you tried to drink it too fast. I’ll never forget the first time you had one, you were a little skeptical, but when the flavors hit your tongue, your eyes lit up. I remember thinking that it was my favorite of your expressions, surprise and pure joy. After that I tried my hardest to find ways to make your eyes light up like that as often as possible.
~xo Declan
With each stop, I get a set of directions to the next place and something else to take with me, along with a little note from Declan, explaining what each item represents.
After the muffin stop, I’m led down the street to a music store. When I was in college, I had a CD player. It was old-school, but my parents had a ridiculous number of CDs and I hadn’t wanted to part with them, so I brought them with me to college. Declan loved the nostalgia of it, and we’d always listen to CDs when we studied together.
When I approach the counter, the barely awake teenager slides a CD and a note toward me. It’s a copy of Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me by The Cure. My mom had been a huge fan of their melancholic and angsty music, and I’d grown up hearing it all the time.
My copy had been scratched to the point that it skipped during all but two songs. I refused to get rid of it, though, because of the memories I associated with that CD. And now I’m holding a new copy of the same vintage CD with yet another note.
Avery,
We used to listen to this all the time back in college. It took me two years to realize you listened to it more when we were approaching the anniversary of your parents’ death. And I struggled a lot with that—realizing you associated this album with someone you loved and lost, and I associated it with how much I loved you.
This one is skip-free.
Love,
Declan
I realize as I head to the next stop that he’s set up a scavenger hunt that echoes one of the first events we ever took part in together. It was during frosh week. I’d been on the fence about doing it, thinking it was probably going to be silly. I hadn’t really known anyone, living in a co-ed dorm on campus and only having moved in two days earlier.
So when I joined the rest of the students from my floor and they broke us up into groups, I was teamed up with a bunch of other students and Declan ended up in my group. We hit it off right away—both of us wearing shirts that displayed our love for the same soccer team and the same player. After that we became fast friends. I’d come to college with a boyfriend out of state, so the lines were already drawn in the sand.
I’d broken it off a couple of months in, and by then I’d had a chance to witness Declan’s incredible ability to bed hop like it was a job. He was charismatic, gorgeous, and fun to be around, so I could totally see the allure. But at the time we’d established ourselves as friends. I’d become part of his core group and there was no way I was going to mess with that. And then I met Sam.
So it stayed that way for a lot of years, until circumstances and proximity changed us. I wanted it to be for the better, and for a while it had been. Losing him a few months ago and all the work we’ve had to do to get our friendship back has made me skittish to make any more changes.
But I know that we can’t erase where we’ve been, so all we can do is move forward and see where this new path takes us.
Each stop brings with it more memories, all the reasons we’ve been so compatible over the years. Why living together was never a challenge for either of us, why it was so easy to call him my best friend.
There’s an ornament waiting for me at the Christmas All Year store, my favorite shampoo and conditioner at the holistic store I love to visit and Declan swears always smells like someone just smoked a joint. I almost start crying when I stop at the sporting goods store we frequent and find a jersey wai
ting for me with my name and number on the back. I needed a new one after last season and hadn’t bothered to place an order because I wasn’t sure when I was going to be able to play again.
The last stop is my favorite restaurant. It’s not fancy, but it serves the lobster-bacon mac and cheese I love so much. When I reach the host stand, I look around and spot Declan in the booth in the corner—the one we always sit in when we come here.
He slides out of the booth and runs his hands down the front of his pants. He’s wearing jeans and a shirt I bought him for Christmas last year. I drop my bag of treasures on the bench seat and wrap my arms around his waist, absorbing his warmth. I feel the soft press of his cheek against the top of my head and the steady beat of his heart in my ear.
“That was so much fun. I haven’t been on a scavenger hunt since—”
“Freshman year.” He links his pinkie with mine. “Come on, I bet you’re starving.”
“Absolutely.”
There’s already a pint of my favorite beer sitting at the table, freshly poured. I slide into the booth and instead of sitting on the other side, Declan slides in beside me. We’re barely in the booth when a server delivers a basket of fried pickles and a plate of nacho chips.
I prop my cheek on my fist and smile at him. “I can’t even imagine how much planning went into this.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit. I had a lot of help from the guys and your sisters.” He pulls out a gift-wrapped box. “I have one last thing for you.”
I move my pint and the plates out of the way.
“Your wrapping jobs are the best.” I run my fingers along the edge of the blue ribbon. One year we volunteered with our soccer team to help wrap presents for the elderly. They loved Declan, and at least three of the women sat him down and gave him one-on-one lessons in gift-wrapping. They also brought him an endless supply of cookies so he could keep his energy up for all that grueling work and the risk of paper cuts.
I teased him relentlessly for it. But we went back in the years that followed, and during the holidays he would bring little wrapped gifts to those women. He didn’t just drop the gifts off and leave, he’d stay for tea and cookies and basically make their entire month with that half-hour visit and pretty packaged gift.
He shrugs. “It’s a valuable, underrated skill set.”
I carefully unwrap the box, trying not to tear the paper, but my hands are shaking for whatever reason, so I’m unsuccessful. I lift the lid and find a photo book inside the box. The front cover is a picture of Declan and me together, my arm around his waist and his around my shoulder from that first day of college when we went on the scavenger hunt together and kicked everyone’s asses.
I flip through the book, stopping to read the captions under each photo, when and where it was taken, and why it’s a special memory. There are so many great moments cataloging our friendship and our history.
I stop when I reach a photo of me caught mid-laugh, sitting in this very booth, a pint in front of me, and a half-empty plate of lobster-bacon mac and cheese pushed off to the side.
“Do you know why I picked this place, apart from the food?”
I glance at the date before he can cover it with his palm and consider his question and the picture. “That was the day I agreed to buy the condo with you?”
Declan smiles. “It was.”
“What was the guy’s name that you’d been living with? Harvey? Harry?”
“Harvey. He moved out at the perfect time. Man, the guys were annoyed at me for asking you if you wanted to take the second bedroom.”
“Annoyed? Why?”
“Because they already saw what I couldn’t.” He chews on the inside of his bottom lip.
“Which was what?”
“That I was in love with you, but I was too blind to realize it. Or too afraid is more like it.” He traces the edge of the photo. “I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the way I’ve handled things with you, or haven’t, actually. I kept having meaningless flings because I was terrified of commitment, and I was convinced I could never be good enough for you.”
“That’s not true at all, though. You’ve been my best friend for years, Declan. And honestly you were the best roommate a girl could ask for.”
“Minus all the extracurriculars.” His ears go red with embarrassment, or maybe it’s shame, which is something I don’t want him to feel right now.
“I knew relationships were hard for you, and mostly I was sad that you were shortchanging yourself on finding something with meaning. But maybe if I’m one hundred percent honest about it, as much as I didn’t love being a witness to your flings, part of me was happy that you weren’t settling down, because if you had, we wouldn’t be here.” I sigh and hook my pinkie with his. “I think I’ve had feelings for you as long as you’ve had feelings for me. I didn’t want to mess with our friendship.”
He nods, as if he understands exactly what I mean. “When you went on that date with Brock, it really hit me that you might find someone and then what would happen to us? I kept thinking about the way Harvey had finally settled down with his girlfriend and moved out. How Mark was ready to find someone. College was long over, we were all on career paths, looking to take the next step. Things were going to change eventually. I either had to change with it or risk losing you altogether.” He threads his fingers through mine. “I want us to be friends like before, Avery.”
“I don’t think I can do that, Declan.”
He drops his head and his shoulders rise and fall on a long exhale, and when he peeks up at me, his eyes are full of sadness and panic. “But we’ve been doing so good, don’t you think? Or maybe it’s not enough?”
“That’s not what I mean. I’ve realized something over the past few months. I love our friendship and what we’ve built over the years. I think just like you’ve been avoiding relationships because you’re afraid of ending up like your parents, I’ve been avoiding them too. Not because I didn’t want to experience the hurt I did with Sam, but because I didn’t want to lose you. And I wasn’t sure I could ever find a partner who would be half as amazing as you were as a friend.” I squeeze his hand. “If you’re ready to try again, to be together, so am I, and even if you’re not, I’m okay to wait until you are, as long as that’s what you want too.”
“I’m ready. I want you. I want to be with you. I can’t promise it’s going to be easy and I’m probably going to make a lot of mistakes along the way, but if you’re willing to be patient with me, I will try my best not to be a jealous asshole.”
“It’s okay to be a jealous asshole sometimes; it’s just in the delivery.”
“I’ve noticed that being an accusing dick doesn’t win me a lot of points.” He exhales a relieved breath. “So we’re going to do this? Be a couple? Date?”
“I would love that.”
He leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. “I missed you so much, I can’t even tell you. I missed the way you always leave your underwear hanging on that stupid line in the laundry room. I missed finding the empty milk carton in the fridge. I missed leftovers and crossword puzzles and horrible romantic comedies.”
“And Thor?”
“Not Thor.”
“Not even a little bit?” I hold my fingers apart a fraction of an inch.
“Nope.”
The server brings out our entrees.
“Do you want to pack these up and take them home? I mean, back to the condo? Or are we not at that point yet?”
Declan runs a hand through his hair. “Uh, well. We can do that, but I’ll be honest, it’s been a lot of months since I’ve been alone with you, and I’m not sure how amazing my self-control is going to be.”
“I can deal with that if you can.”
“I can. I would like to deal with that.” He nods a couple of times, like he’s reassuring himself. “Let’s get out of here.”
Declan pays the tab and they pack up our food. We speed walk the two blocks to the building that’s always
felt like home, not because of the condo we shared, but because I shared it with Declan. We manage to get into the condo and lock the door before our mouths are glued together.
“I missed this feeling,” he groans into my mouth. “I’ll do anything to keep you in my life like this, Avery.”
“I think you should start by taking me to bed.”
And he does.
For so long, we were magnets repelling. Facing the wrong way and orbiting each other, missing the connection until the world finally aligned and brought us together, only to tear us apart again.
But this time we’re both whole and ready.
This time there’s nothing holding us back, not our pasts or our fears.
This time I can fall in love completely and know my heart is safe with him.
EPILOGUE
RUN THE COURSE
DECLAN
SIX MONTHS LATER
Why are they taking so long to get here?” I check my watch for what feels like the hundredth time and pat my pocket.
Harley raises her eyebrow. “You need to relax. She called fifteen minutes ago. She’ll be here soon.”
It’s Avery’s birthday and tonight Spark House is closed to the public because we’re throwing her a party. Guests aren’t scheduled to arrive for several hours, but Avery and London are on their way here so we can test out the obstacle course.
In the months since Avery gave me a second chance, I’ve continued with regular therapy, aware that now more than ever I need the support and the strategies to help me deal with relationship conflict in a healthy way. Once a month Avery and I go together, and I feel like it’s made us stronger as a couple.
It’s a way for us to talk about our fears and find constructive ways to cope. I couldn’t ask for a better partner. She’s my best friend and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
Our relationship isn’t perfect, because nothing is, but we’re working through the tricky parts. I’ve learned not to let my fears rule me, we talk things out, and she’s patient with me. I’m learning how to allow myself to be vulnerable, and every day I fall more and more in love with her.
When Sparks Fly Page 26