“We suck it up. We spend more time apart than together. You’ll know that when I leave it’s not you, it’s me.” She’d never hear that cry of pain in the Wood again. “When we’re together, we enjoy what we have and try not to think about what we can’t have. We don’t let misunderstandings destroy Tokyo.”

“What?”

“Godzilla versus Mothra.” When he continued to stare at her like she was speaking Urdu, she shook her head. “Not important. We accept that the universe occasionally acts like a dick and we make the best of it.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed the best of it.”

“Fine. We make the second best of it. Honesty. Friendship.” Heels and fingertips, she tapped out random rhythms, trying unsuccessfully to break the pull of his heartbeat. “The smug and sanctimonious feeling that comes from knowing you’re doing what’s right, not what you want.”

“Yeah, that sounds like so much fun.” He twisted around on the rock to face her, spine curving in a way Human spines did not. “Charlie, Gale boys choose. What would happen if I chose you?”

I chose you. She was wet-wired to respond to the words and, given the feelings involved, the if out in front almost wasn’t enough. It took a silent recitation of the chromatic scale before she could trust her voice. “Okay, you didn’t grow up with this so, first, you know that whole no one says no to a Gale boy thing? It’s kind of the way no one says no to kittens or puppies. They’re . . . you’re indulged because there’s so few of you. And second, by the time a Gale boy makes a choice, no one says no because it’s pretty much a done deal. And third, the aunties wouldn’t allow it.”

“They’d take away the one power that Gale boys have in this family?”

“Sucks to be you.”

“And if I don’t choose?”

“Then they won’t take your choice away.” And some day, in the future, when the Gale girls now concentrating on soccer and Justin Bieber grew up, he’d still have the chance to choose. Maybe he never would, not if he was as fucked up about this as she was, but if he did, she’d be happy for him. She’d go live in Nashville and have sex with fake cowboys and drink too much and only come home to annoy Allie and spoil her kids, but she’d be happy for him. And really pathetic. Screw that. It couldn’t hurt any more than not having him now and while she would be happy for him, she’d resent the hell out of the situation, pour that resentment into an album, and continue the fine musical tradition of making a fortune off a broken heart. Maybe she’d have tea with Adele circa 2011.