“It’s hideous.” And it really was. It was wonky and plastic-looking and the kind of decor value you would expect from an elementary school kid with way too much time on their hands. “I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Daniella looked at him; his face was so serious. “Why did you do it?”

“I dunno,” he said. “You just seemed so sad, and I wanted to make you smile.”

“I wasn’t sad,” said Daniella. “I was hungover.”

They were getting closer and closer together. Like they were pulled together by each other’s gravity. By some strange inevitability. So many steps together, so slowly, that it was the most natural thing in the world that they went from across the room from each other to no more than a few inches apart. Daniella didn’t even really notice it. Like they’d been moving this way for years and she hadn’t noticed it.

“But,” said Daniella. “You got so freaked out earlier.”

“I know,” said Eli. “I’m really sorry. I’m in love with you, too, by the way. I am absolutely terrible at showing it.”

“This part isn’t so terrible,” said Daniella.

“How many more glow-in-the-dark stars do I have to set up before you’ll forgive me?”

“A million,” said Daniella with a smile.

“A million?” asked Eli. “It’s a deal.”

And then Daniella threw her arms around Eli’s neck, and she pulled him in. Their lips met—soft at first, then playful. It was the kiss of two people who enjoyed sparring with each other. Two people who would never let the other have the upper hand for very long.

Daniella couldn’t hold in her smile.

They broke apart when Rinn came crashing into the room with Imogen in tow. “Guys, there’s no time for kissing.”

And then, unceremonious as she pleased, Rinn grabbed Daniella’s hands. She pulled both of the girls up toward the roof, with Eli lagging behind, laughing. Imogen huffed and puffed the entire way, complaining that she didn’t exercise for a reason, thank you very much.

When they all arrived at the roof breathless, Rinn began dancing to no rhythm, dancing to no music. Daniella laughed. Imogen came in, rolled her eyes, and then turned on the last playlist that Jo had queued up. AJ found the breaker on the roof and turned on a bunch of old lights. And then the entire staff of Wild Nights Bookstore and Emporium were across the roof, dancing and twirling. Like this really was the end. Like they had fought a good fight, but they’d made their push too late and their effort had not been enough.

But it didn’t matter, because they had been enough.

They danced and the world kept going and their bodies kept moving, and they knew that they were all going to be all right.

SUNDAY

SIX WEEKS LATER