“I learned from the best critic.” He grins. “So what happens in our sequel?”
“Now we stop letting fear make our choices. We be honest with each other, even when it’s scary.” I glance at Greg, who definitely looks perkier. “And maybe we let your plant take partial credit for matchmaking.”
“Speaking of which,” Ethan says, “I think our story needs a proper first date. Dinner? Tonight? Somewhere that isn’t the dining hall?”
“Are you asking me on a real date, Ethan Prescott?”
“I’m asking my girlfriend, who writes three-act apologies and makes my plant happy, if she’ll let me take her somewhere nice.”
“Girlfriend?” The word makes my chest warm.
“If you’ll have me. Terrible jokes, structured narratives, and all.”
“Deal,” I say, and kiss him again.
Greg rustles in his pot, leaves already looking healthier.
“I think Greg approves of our story,” Ethan murmurs against my mouth.
“Greg’s a smart plant.”
“The smartest. Though I think we’re pretty smart too.”
And standing here in his room, with our story finally making sense, I think he’s right.
We’re smart enough to know that the best love stories aren’t the ones that follow predictable patterns.
They’re the ones where two people choose to write their own ending, together.
39
ETHAN
Piper Renner just told me she loves me using a three-act structure.
It’s the most ridiculous, most perfectly her thing I’ve ever witnessed, and I’m so gone for this girl, it’s not even funny.
“So,” I say, still holding her face in my hands, trying to process that she’s here and real and mine. “You’ve been taking care of Greg for me?”
“He’s very high-maintenance.” She’s relaxed now, the tension that’s been radiating off her finally easing. “Do you know he has opinions about plant food brands?”
“He’s particular about his nutrients.”
“Extremely particular. I bought three different kinds before he approved.” Her hands come up to cover mine. “He missed you. His leaves were literally drooping with sadness.”
“Just Greg?”
“Not just Greg,” she admits softly.
I pull her closer, needing to touch her, to confirm this is real. “I have things to tell you too. About what’s been happening.”
“Good things?”
“Some good, some terrifying.” I lead her to sit on my bed, our knees touching. “I submitted my game to five indie studios.”
Her face lights up. “Ethan! That’s incredible!”
“With the revisions you inspired. The choice mechanic that lets players decide how to face their destruction.” I take her hand. “Your critique made my game better, Pip. Made me better.”
