“We’ve been talking all morning,” Mia says, then stops.
I stare at them open-mouthed. “And?”
“You’re gonna like this,” Olivia says.
“We can’t let you go back empty-handed,” Mia says. “If Mal isn’t going to help you, well, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
My jaw drops and I shake my head in disbelief.
“But I thought you were never coming back,” I say to Olivia.
“Look, if swallowing my pride means people aren’t going to get hurt, then what else am I going to do? I still care about the people there, even if they’ve been dicks to me.”
Mia gives me a big, toothy smile. “Seeing what you’ve done, coming out here, putting yourself in danger, got us thinking. You’re an inspiration, Max.”
“You’re sure?” I ask, because even though this is definitely good news, I don’t want to be the reason anyone puts themself someplace they don’t feel comfortable.
“We’re sure,” Olivia says. “I don’t know if it will stick. But you were right. We’re out here fighting the same fight. Why not do everything we can to make sure we win. You know I hate losing.”
Instantly, I’m reminded of Olivia’s determination during that game of capture the flag back at the Blue Moon Festival. If she enters this war with any of the same energy, we pretty much can’t lose. “Oh yeah,” I say. “I remember.”
“I can’t guarantee my father will decide to put his pride aside for the greater good. But all I can do is try, right?” Mia asks.
“All you can do is try,” I reiterate, feeling a little less depressed about this whole mission.
Omar heads over, waving a last goodbye to Agatha.
“Guess what?” I say.
“What’s that?”
“You want to tell him?” I say to the girls.
Olivia taps the roof of her car. “We’re coming with.”
“Nice,” Omar says, as if he was sort of expecting this eventuality.
“Your dad will be happy to see you,” I say to Olivia as Mia jumps into their car and Omar slips into ours.
“Don’t make me change my mind,” she says, then disappears into the driver’s seat.
I take one last look up at Mal’s house, at the dark windows on the second floor, wondering if she’s up there watching us leave.
And for a second, I think I see movement behind one of the curtains.
“You coming, Cuz?” Omar yells from inside.
“Yep,” I say, getting in and closing the door behind me. “Let’s go home.”
MIDNIGHT GARDENING
It’s only just been two weeks but when the elevator opens on his apartment, I run into Jasper’s waiting arms. I run so fast I barely have time to take him in, crashing into him with a thud. He absorbs the impact and wraps me up. I’m instantly comforted by the strength of his embrace. His arms are solid around me, his chest firm against mine.
I feel safe.
I feel like I’ve come home.
One hand cups the back of my head, his fingers combing through my hair, which is in pretty bad need of a trim.
