I feel like I’m seventeen again, hating two polarizing things and not being able to find peace within the middle. Split apart. Trying to be sewn back together. It hurts. I hate that it hurts.

I meet Willow’s eyes.

“Hey,” I whisper back, trying not to wake Moffy. “You look pretty cheerful.”

“So do you,” she replies. “Or at least, more than last weekend.”

Last weekend, I had two hours of sleep and downed four Lightning Bolts!—Willow told me that if I drank any more energy drinks she was sending Daisy to come check on me.

She scans my surroundings. “Are you at Superheroes & Scones?”

I nod and then flash the phone toward the sleeping toddler and then back to me.

She looks surprised. “You’re babysitting?”

“It’s hard to say no to Lily.” Plus, I genuinely like her kid. Maximoff is sweet and probably the easiest toddler to look after—not that I have a lot of experience babysitting other people’s offspring.

Willow nods like she gets it. “Lily has the best puppy dog eyes. They make you crumble.”

I pull up the hood of my black jacket. “So hey, I… um, I came up with my project for Cobalt Inc., finally.”

Her smile explodes. “Garrison!” she exclaims in a quiet voice, since Maximoff is sleeping. Her enthusiasm emits from the core. “That’s amazing. And see, you didn’t have anything to worry about.”

I shrug. “I’m not going to tell Connor about it yet. He’ll probably think it’s stupid and pull the plug. I’ll ask for forgiveness later or whatever.” Which, I know, isn’t something you should probably be doing when you’re an employee of a multi-billion-dollar corporation.

But I’m too invested in this project to risk losing it. Plus, when I have a prototype, I can better sell the concept to Connor.

I think about not telling Willow the details either. So she doesn’t have to keep this secret from her family, but in the end, I can’t keep it from her, so I just say, “I want to create a video game based off Sorin-X.” He’s a character from The Fourth Degree comics, the same titles that Loren’s company, Halway Comics, publishes.

I need the rights of these comics in order to adapt them into a video game, but I’ll jump through that hurdle later.

Willow looks like she could hug me through the screen. But we can’t touch, and that realization tunnels through me like a freight train at full speed. It’s excruciating. I wish I just told her the news in person—whenever that would be.

“Garrison,” she breathes deeply. “That’s perfect. And you really are the best person to create it. I won’t tell anyone, promise.”

I nod, knowing she won’t, and I quickly change subjects. “How’s your project going?” I’d rather talk about Willow because the more I talk about the game, the more I’m probably going to curse the thing to hell. I can already see the project combusting in flames.

She grimaces. “I mean—it’s a silly school project. It’s not like yours.” She pushes up her glasses that have fallen down her nose.