“It needed to be blown up, a bit. Once is good, though. Please don’t do it again.”
All the way back to New York I fretted that it was too late—that I’d had a chance at something and I’d ruined it. I’d apologize to Connor, and he’d probably even accept my apology, but there would be no going back to the way things were. He’d seen me for what I truly am. Why? He could always see it. It seems so obviousnow.
“What if we work together and then you want to break up with me again?”
“Annie,” he says, reaching up to cup my jaw. The way he says my name makes it seem like that alone explains everything. “You must be the last person in the world to notice this but…I love you. I’m literally never going to break up with you.”
In that moment our faces are two mirror images, one staring back at the other, smiling the same way at the same time.
“Careful,” I warn him. “I might hold you to that.”
“Go ahead,” he says, moving in closer. “I dare you.”
Epilogue
One year later
Shannon’s wedding sucked, by the way.
Last October, after months of stalling, Shannon finally made the request I’d been dreading—she sent me diving back into Thomas’s DMs, kicking off the wedding planning in earnest. I moped for a week, then got over it. If getting married is what she wants, then the least I could do was keep my Danimosity in check.
Well. Connor kept it in check.
I’d describe their nuptials as one of the great bad weddings of our generation. Shannon looked picture-perfect but all wrong in the dress she insisted on buying. Dan’s groom speech was a nauseating twenty-eight minutes long. And the bridesmaids wore black. Which was nice, because to me it felt more like a funeral.
I will never understand why my sister married him; but I very reluctantly accept that I don’t have to. Really all I can hope for now is that they truly do live happily ever after. Or failing that, get divorced.
Whatwasvery fun was having an excuse to bring my boyfriend home for the first time, driving him all over the town andpointing out all the local landmarks, like my high school, and the ice cream shop where I won the flavor competition. That fun fact now lives on CAB Lab’s new website, underneath the picture of the three cofounders it’s named after: Connor, Ben, andme.
We land back in New York early Sunday evening, and decide to stop at my apartment first before going back to Connor’s so I can pick up some more clothes.
When we get there, Carrie is lying prone on the couch, watchingTV.
“How was it?” she asks, her hand hovering above her head, twirling a lock of hair.
“Terrible,” I say, dropping my keys in the bowl beside the door.
“Dramatic,” Connor comments, coming in just behind me. “It was great.”
“Speak for yourself,” I say. Carrie draws her knees up, vacating a spot for me to sink into. “It was painful to watch.”
Her palm is already face up in expectation of my phone. I open to the photo app and hand it to her to flick through.
“Did you not have a good time?” she asks.
“No.”
“Liar,” Connor drawls.
He’s leaning up against the wall, arms crossed, eyes shining with laughter. OK, maybe we did have a good time. What can I say? Connor looks extremely hot in a suit.
At the sound of our voices, Sam emerges somewhere from the depths of the apartment, today wearing a denim miniskirt (mine) and—inexplicably—a pair of white cowboy boots. It’s like she’s so happy she forgot to goth.
“Oh good, you’re here.” She addresses this to Connor, rather thanme.
“Hi, Sam.” Connor nods.
One of the more surprising developments of the last year is Sam and Connor forming an alliance—you get the impression that if they really joined forces, they could do great and terrible things.
