I’m not sure how long the surprise is supposed to last. We’re only walking for a minute or two before the giant outdoor screen comes into view. People are sprawled out on blankets in front of it, talking and eating.

“Oh wow,” I say, gazing up at the screen. “I didn’t know they did this.”

“They alternate parks, so it’s not always here,” Miles says. He hesitates and some people move past us. “Wait, are you actually surprised? I thought the texts would give it away.”

“Um, no way.” Laughter seeps into my voice. “Come on, how would I get it? Don’t bring a chair? I had no idea what to think.”

“You’re not allowed to bring chairs!” he says, gesturing to everyone sitting on the blankets. “I thought that was obviously about the park.”

“Oh my God.” I snort. “Why would I bring a chair to the park in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” he says, going quiet. “I just wanted to make sure it’d be good.”

My heart sort of melts.

“Well, it will be,” I say, voice soft. “As long as they aren’t showing something horrible, like Cats.”

“Is there even a Cats movie?”

“God,” I say. “I hope not.”

We find a spot in the corner and spread out on a blue-and-green blanket. I still can’t believe he brought a picnic basket, one that looks like it’s from The Sound of Music. I want to take a picture of it and send it to Claudia and Lydia, but I can’t because of our stupid fight. I’ll settle for grinning until my face falls off.

“So we have pre-popped popcorn,” Miles says, pulling food out and laying it on the blanket. “Orange soda.”

“The best of sodas.”

“Absolutely,” he says, grinning. “And I tried to make turkey sandwiches, but they might be horrible.”

I glance at the aluminum foil–wrapped phallic object and try not to laugh.

“How do you mess up a sandwich?”

“Well.” He huffs. “You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you?”

I want to ask something else—namely, when he started planning this—but then the screen starts to flicker.

“Wait,” I say. “What movie is it?”

“Simone.” Miles puts his hand on his chest. “You want me to spoil the surprise?”

“You’re not spoiling it,” I protest. “We’re already here.”

“I’m not telling you,” he says, shoving some popcorn into his mouth. The screen is still flickering, but the crowd has started to cheer. “If you hate it, I don’t want to know until the end.”

“I promise I won’t hate it,” I say. “I couldn’t.”

He smiles at me then, and I grin back like a little kid.

“Dolores Park!” a voice declares. I glance up to see someone standing in front of the screen. “Welcome to Movie Night! Are you ready for the incredible Les Misérables?”