“I remember. Everything we did and said,” Marcus blurts out, as soon as I open the door. “Zadie, I rememberus.”
I shake my head, clear my eyes, because it’s too good to be true.
I keep talking like he didn’t just drop something huge on me. “You’re lucky my mom is catching up on, like, four years ofsleep. She’d kill you if she wasn’t passed out in her room,” I tell him as quietly as I can. “Come upstairs.”
When we get into my room, he repeats it. “I remember us.”
“Don’t say that if it’s not true.”
“Itis,” he insists, “and I remember the last dream. We were arguing about whether I care or not, about why you started dating Jason.”
He stands closer, takes my face in his hands. “Of course I care,” he says.
I struggle to inhale. “Be honest. Am I the girl?”
A frown crosses Marcus’s face. “What girl?”
“The one from before, the one you’ve been trying to get over.” I pull his hands down, keeping mine in them. “Because if not, it’s okay if you want to try with her and…”
Marcus laughs. “Cartwright, please can I just kiss you?” he asks. “Yes, you’re the girl. I fell for you that very first night that we met. And a whole year later, you’re just starting to give me the time of day.”
I feel so happy, I could float away. “I didn’t want to make it too easy for you,” I tease.
He snorts. “Trust me. I know.”
I stand on my tiptoes and close in on his lips, but instead of kissing me, he leans away slightly and picks up the poppy on my dresser.
“Hey, it’s Hanover’s seal.”
I’m pretty sure Marcus is speaking gibberish. “Sorry?”
“From your dad’s book,” Marcus says. “The character’s signature is a blue poppy. He signs every letter with it.”
I take a step back. “My dad’s book?” I repeat. I run to my shelf for a copy ofMoon Over Hanoverand leaf through it until I comeupon the first mention of the blue poppy. I flip a few more pages. Another mention and another.
The one and only time I read Dad’s book, I was eleven, so I have absolutely no recollection of blue flowers.
“The dreams,” I say all of a sudden. And then I’m crying. “Blue flowers. I think they were from my dad. That’s what he left me.”
I explain it to Marcus, who still has no memory of seeing any poppies. Still, I know like I know my own voice that the dreams were a gift from my dad. Every dream in which I found Marcus, every dream in which we found ourselves.
It is a reminder that I still have him, through all the things I will ever love.
Marcus wipes my tears with his thumb, and then he leans down and kisses me.
I…did not know Marcus could kiss like this. Slow and gentle, careful like a secret. I wrap my arms around his neck and draw him in closer, wishing I could do this forever. When we pull apart, it’s so we can both catch our breaths.
“What do we do on Monday?” Marcus asks hoarsely.
“Monday?” I ask.
“I’m surprised you haven’t thought this through already. Amber’s going to be there with Jason, and you and me are…unless you don’t want a…” His voice fades, and I can see him rethinking everything, wondering if he got too far ahead of himself. “Shit, maybe you…”
“Idowant a you and me.” I take a deep breath. “And people might stare and talk. In fact, they will.”
She traded one cousin for the other. Talk about a downgrade. She’s such a slut.
I hear everything they could possibly say, and more.
