We all fall back into our seats, laughter echoing around the room, tears running down faces, smiles stretching wide.
Everything is okay.
Scottieis okay.
And that means everything is exactly the way it should be.
Thank fuck.
Friday, December 5th
Julia
I’m lying on my bed surrounded by wrapping-paper carnage and half-eaten birthday waffles when my phone buzzes with a text from Scottie.
Scottie: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JULIA!
Scottie: And I have to know…what did Ace get you for your birthday???
I snort and start typing.
Me: Girl, what didn’t Ace get me. My morning started with, like, twenty-seven presents exploding out of my room the second I woke up.
Me: Then breakfast in bed. Waffles. Heart-shaped. Fruit arranged into a smiley face.
Me: And then. THEN. He opened the window to a live band.
Scottie: A live band???
Me: Yes. A live band. Outside my window on the freaking sidewalk performing an acoustic version of the entirety of Taylor Swift’sMidnightsalbum.
Scottie:Holy shit.
Me: I KNOW. My boyfriend is nuts in the best way. I’m supposed to go to dinner at my parents’ tonight, but he left twenty minutes ago to “run an errand” and wouldn’t say what the errand entails. I’m a little terrified I’m going to walk into my kitchen to a mariachi band or a freaking Broadway play.
Scottie: I wish I could say that wasn’t possible, but this is Ace Kelly we’re talking about.
Scottie: But also, I’d pay actual money to see a mariachi band in your kitchen.
I grin down at my phone, the warmth of it radiating through my whole body. I’m nineteen
today, and I feel spoiled in the best ways. Loved. Lucky.So damn happy.
Me: Okay, but for real, how are you doing today?
Scottie: Honestly? Pretty good. I had PT this morning, and my therapist said I’m healing ahead of schedule. I’m still sore and tired, but it’s a good kind of sore. First time I’ve felt like myself since surgery. And I was even able to wiggle my toes this morning.
Me: Holy shit, Scottie! That’s incredible. God, I’m so proud of you. You’re a superhero, girl.
Scottie: Yeah. Yeah. All I need is a cape. LOL.
Me: Don’t even tempt me. LOL.
I’m still smiling down at the screen when I hear the front door creak open.
“Evie?” I call out, assuming my little sister has arrived uninvited again to loot my closet or complain about Heather Donovan.
No answer.
