Chapter 23

I’m lying on the grass, face to the stars. My hair splays out behind my head like an extra-large halo, complete with a spray of sunrays.

The lights have been taken down. It’s nearing midnight, but Suzie and my mom are still laughing loudly. My mom and I have the same loud cackle-laugh when we’re tired—it reminds me of a machine gun—and my mom’s machine gun has been going off consistently for the last hour.

Of course, this only makes me smile.

Everything makes me smile right now.

Ivanka and Augustin are gone; they climbed into their car amidst laughter and the dried lavender buds we tossed at them. They kissed once before driving off, a happy couple, hitched at last.

I helped make it happen.

God, it feels good.

Since there is no more light left in the backyard, I can see the stars pretty well from this angle, just like I could two weeks ago when I sat out here with Levi. Except now there are even more, filling the sky to the brim. I see Orion again—but like Levi, it’s the only constellation I can remember.

I lift my head, sensing a pair of watchful eyes. The Boy himself stands by the back door, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, studying me.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” he replies. He lies down beside me, our hands touching in the middle.

I grab his wrist before I can talk myself out of it. “Do you see all these stars? So many more than last time.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like they came out just for the happy couple.”

Levi slides his hand up so that our palms are pressed together. We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, several minutes, hours, days, before Levi turns his head toward me. “Tired?”

“Not really,” I answer, looking at him directly. (If only we weren’t so close, I could breathe easier.) “Just…content.”

“Happy?”

“Yes.”

“Ready for adventure to take you?”

“Obviously.” I chuckle, squeezing his hand. His long fingers squeeze back, then lace through mine. “What were you going to tell me? Before the wedding?” I ask.

He looks at me for a long moment, then up at the sky again. “It’s…I just…can…” He clears his throat. “I found another song that reminds me of you.”

“If it’s a Bon Iver song, I can’t guarantee a positive response.”

Levi laughs. “It’s not Bon Iver.” He grabs my hand, the one unmarked, and pulls a pen out of his pocket. “This is for you to listen to when you get home.”

I’m full of light as he takes the pen to my hand. There are no frills to this drawing, only his even handwriting, and the words I Lived Here by Martin Phipps.

“Who is this?” I ask.

“An amazing composer. You’ll love him.”

“I hope so.”

“Hey, Levi,” Suzie yells from the house, “we need your help with the chairs.”

Levi stands up, brushes his hands together, and helps me to my feet. “Duty calls.”

I drop my gaze to my hands, lingering on the new song title written there.

“Thanks for your help, Bee,” he says, quietly. “Today wouldn’t have been…well, today... without you.”

“Shut up,” I say, teasing, but really my heart is in my mouth.

“No, really.” He runs his hand up my arm. I freeze, my breath caught, and his palm stops on my shoulder. My bare skin feels like it’s been set on fire. “Come see me at the shop on Tuesday, okay? I get off at three.”

I nod. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll be there.”

He waves once before disappearing into the house, and I’m alone in the yard, thinking of everything I want to say to him, and want to hear him say to me.

I wait until my family is asleep, the house comfortingly quiet, before I pull out my iPod and hook up my headphones. I scroll through Spotify for the song, and when it starts playing, my heart pounds so hard I can barely sit still.

Thing You Should Know About Me #83: I believe every person interprets music and lyrics differently. Which is exactly my fear when I hear the first notes. What if I don’t understand what he’s trying to tell me? What if I read into it?

But then the slow build of the beginning eases into a sweeping crescendo, and I just know I can’t mess this one up. It makes me ache—the same ache I felt when I held his hand lying in the grass earlier. The same ache I felt in the hall outside the bathroom, when Levi kissed my hand, when I suddenly couldn’t breathe and that was perfectly all right with me.

Levi.

He said this song reminded him of me. He said it—I heard him. He can’t take it back. I won’t let him.

The song ends, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next. This is what he wanted to tell me? The song is stuck in my head, replaying again and again. I want to see him now, to ask him if I got it right. I want to make sure that my overly-romantic self isn’t wrong or disillusioned, that those moments were real.

With the headphones still plugging my ears, my heart jittery, my chest full and aching (just like the song), I wonder if he is falling asleep with that same ache right now. And then I wonder if I could call him, because I have no shortage of insane, crush-infused ideas.

My phone tells me it’s one in the morning, but I have no self-control and my fingers are drawn to his name in my contacts without my permission (okay, that’s a lie). I click on it, Levi, the name that now means everything to me, and lift the phone to my ears.

“Bee?” he answers after one ring, and there is no denying it—he’s quiet, but not tired. He sounds as excited (and awake) as his mother baking cookies at night.

“Levi,” I whisper. “I’m so glad you answered.”

“You’re not asleep?”

“No. I thought you’d be asleep.”

He chuckles. “Nope, couldn’t.”

“But you must be exhausted.”

“I am. You’ve been keeping me up.”

I’m indignant. “Excuse me—”

“Did you listen to the song?”

I smile. “I did.”

“Good.”

“I loved it.”

“Also good.”

“I’m starting to trust your taste in music again.”

“Don’t insult me.”

“I’m not. I’m insulting Bon—”

“Don’t even say it,” Levi hisses.

I burst into laughter and receive a loudly whispered, “Shut up, Bee!” from Astrid in the next room. “But Levi,” I say, growing serious again. “Levi,” I repeat, because I’m an idiot.

“Yes, Bee,” he says softly.

I love that tone. (I only ever hear it when he says my name.) “About the song, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You can’t just—I don’t know—what did you—”

He laughs.

“Leviiii. Don’t laugh.”

“I want to laugh—I’m happy.”

“You need to be very, very clear about what you meant when you told me to listen to it.” (I’m totally hyperventilating now. Great.)

“I really like you, Bee.” There. It’s out in the open, and his voice is quiet, and reverent, and lovely. “Look, I talked to Gretchen, remember? And she told me something that wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“What. Did. She. Say?” I ask, grinding out each syllable. Gretchen is so busted.

“She told me she knew I liked you and that I’d better ask you out soon or she’d blow my cover.”

“What?!” (SO BUSTED.)

“And so all along I was trying to think of how to do it but, like…I don’t know how to do—” He swallows. “I didn’t know how to ask you. And that song… Well. It said exactly what I wanted to say.”

All I can do is sigh. Aside from wanting to strangle Gretchen, all I can think of is kissing Levi.

“Bee?” he asks.

“Yes?”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Only one?” I blurt. Smooth.

I hear his laugh and imagine him smiling in that big way of his. “I mean, I’m not picky.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, you know.”

“I do know. And I’m all yours, if you want me.”

I nod, and then I remember he can’t see me. I lick my lips and close my eyes and say, “Yes. I definitely do.”