She does, reluctantly.
"Who told you that you weren't enough?"
"Everyone. No one. I don't know." She's blinking fast, like she's fighting tears. "It's just true. I've always been easy to overlook. Easy to forget."
"You think I forgot you?" I ask quietly. "Ivy, I've spent fifteen years remembering you. Every detail. Every conversation. You're not easy to forget. You're impossible to forget."
"You don't know that. You don't actually know me."
"Then let me." I take her hand, threading our fingers together. "That's all I'm asking. One night. Let me get to know the real you. And if by the end of it you think I'm full of shit, if you think I've built this up too much in my head, I'll accept that. But at least give me the chance."
She's crying now, just a little. Tears slipping down her cheeks that she tries to wipe away with her free hand. "This is ridiculous. We're at a high school reunion and you're making me cry."
"I'm an asshole. I'm sorry."
"You're not an asshole. You're just..." She trails off, shaking her head. "I don't understand you."
"That's fair. I don't really understand me either right now." I grin, trying to lighten the mood. "All I know is that I saw you tonight and my first thought was 'thank God.' My second thought was 'don't screw this up.' And I've pretty much been winging it since then."
That gets a laugh, watery, but genuine. "You're terrible at winging it."
"The worst," I agree. "Levi's going to mock me so hard when I tell him about this."
"Are you going to tell him?"
"Are you kidding? He's been trying to set us up for years. He's going to be insufferable." I squeeze her hand. "But he's also going to tell me I did the right thing. That I should have done it years ago."
"He never tried to set us up."
"Not directly. But every time I called him, he'd mention you. 'Ivy asks about you. Ivy recommended this book. Ivy said the funniest thing today.' He was not subtle."
Ivy's eyes widen. "I thought he was doing that to me. He's always talking about you. 'Owen's doing great. Owen called yesterday. You should reach out to Owen sometime.'"
We stare at each other for a beat, then both start laughing.
"He's been matchmaking," I say.
"For years, apparently."
"Sneaky bastard."
"He's going to be so smug when he finds out this worked."
"The worst part is, he'll deserve it." I'm still crouching next to her chair, and my knee is starting to protest, but I don't want tomove. Don't want to break this moment. "So, what do you say? Should we give my meddling brother the satisfaction?"
"Of what?"
"Of being right. About us."
Ivy looks at me. I can see her thinking, weighing, trying to decide if this is real or if I'm going to disappear like a dream.
I'm not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not if I can help it.
"Okay," she finally says. "But if this goes badly, I'm blaming Levi."
"Deal." I stand up, my knee cracking in protest, and offer her my hand for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. "Want to dance?"
"To this?" She gestures at the speakers, which are currently blasting a song I vaguely remember from junior year. "I'm a terrible dancer."
