“I’m right here,” she says. “But hush—Jack is about to make a fool of himself.”

Screeching feedback commands everyone’s attention. A quiet falls over mocktail hour.

Professor McPherson’s face is panic-stricken, and she starts calling for security. Holy shit, I did not see this coming at all, but Jack looks anxious and out of place up there. Then I see Leila talking to Professor McPherson, and she seems to calm down. Leila turns to me and offers a small smile. A token.

“Sorry for the interruption, uh …” His voice is shaking as he clutches the microphone. “I have to do this before I lose the nerve. I’m not really the one for grand romantic gestures, but there’s someone here who has quite profoundly become the center of my world.” He sucks in a quick breath. “No, my universe. And I messed things up big-time. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me or if I even deserve forgiveness, but I have to try because, Chase Arthur, you are the best part of me. You’ve opened me up to worlds I’ve never seen before. You deserve everything, and, well, I’m kind of stepping on the poem I wrote for you, and security is giving me the eye, so I’ll read this really quick.”

Everyone turns to look at me. Mom is crying. So is Taylor. And Benny. The three of them are practically clinging to one another, looking at Jack like he’s Henry Cavill holding a basket full of floofy kittens or something.

I look to Dad, who nods. “Hear him out. Can’t hurt.”

Rae grabs me and says, “Remember what love is supposed to feel like.”

Jack clears his throat.

You remind me of

red cardinals and majesties unknown

faraway lands and magic spells,

words I’ve yet to learn

that haven’t been invented

because with you

I’m an unwritten novel

reborn in your margins

under night skies,

and rainy-day puddles.

we exist

in the breath between

lightning and thunder

where the end is a beginning,

that starts with three simple words

a poem by your name that goes

I love you

I love you

I love you

The whole of Taughannock Gallery erupts in applause and whistles that follow me as I snake my way to the front of the stage where Jack stands. Then the cheers morph into a chant: “Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!”

My heart is beating so fast, I might pass out.

He holds out a sweaty hand like a damn Prince Charming.

I take it, but it’s clear he expects a kiss. Instead, I say, “Can we talk outside?”

Chapter 28

28

Jack and I walk out, and I drop his hand.