“I already chose someone who obviously didn’t value me in the end, because I think on some level I didn’t know how to value myself. But you, Cleo, you value all of me. You always have. When the voices in my head tell me I’m too big or too much or just flat-out unworthy, you’re the one who always sees through me. You’re the voice that tells me I’m enough, that I’m beautiful. When I spin out with panic, you’re the one to ground me. I know I need to learn to do all those things for myself, but until then—and hopefully long after—yours is the voice I always want to hear.”

Tears collect in Cleo’s eyes. I didn’t mean to make them cry, until I realize tears slide from my own eyes.

“Amelia, always so freaking bold, every minute of every day,” Cleo finally says. “You’ve always inspired me to be brave, to be honest, to speak up. And you’ve always accepted me, exactly as I am. I just never thought…”

Cleo wipes at their eyes, a smile finally spreading across their face as these words seem to settle.

“Is this what people mean when they talk about being with someone who makes them a better person?” I ask, laughing a little. “Because you’re the best person I know.”

Cleo doesn’t answer me. Instead, they step forward and wrap their arms around me. It doesn’t matter that we’re sweaty from the hike or that it’s our first time holding each other when it really means something. Cleo hugs me and it feels like it just fits.

Then I kiss Cleo.

The feeling is hard to describe, except with a word like home.

“Is this really happening?” Cleo whispers, resting their forehead against mine. “I don’t believe it.”

“Of all the strange things we’ve experienced this trip, this is the part you can’t believe?”

“Point taken,” Cleo laughs. “Speaking of, I don’t think we’ll ever see Anwar or Rosa again, but I guess we’ll have to thank them if we ever do.”

“Um, excuse me?” I ask, pulling my head back.

“I’m not sure I would have spoken up the way I did if they hadn’t pushed us,” Cleo answers. “So in some roundabout way, they’re like our cupids?”

“I think I’ll settle for us being our own cupids, thank you very much,” I answer. “Watch out world, Clemelia has arrived!”

Cleo steps back, still grinning like a fool. “Absolutely not. That sounds like a venereal disease.”

“Ameleo, then?”

“How about we make sure this is really a thing before we start celebrity-naming it?” Cleo laughs again.