The summer sweeps by in an endless list of to-dos. Between working forty-plus hours a week at ESPresso Café, packing all my stuff for my dorm (I have a lot of stuff!), and spending time with my family (my parents were being extra clingy since their firstborn was all “grown up”), I barely had time to see Jesse since he’d gotten back from North Carolina.

After prom, things between us had returned to normal and I was grateful.

On the night before I leave for Lennox University, a little after 1:00 a.m., I get a text from him.

Jesse: You up?

Smiling, I type a response.

Riley: Yes.

Jesse: Meet me in ten.

I don’t need to ask where. We’ve done this—our secret rendezvous—a thousand times before.

I snatch my well-worn black hoodie from my desk chair, and tiptoe out of my room, down the long hall to the top of the stairs. I pause, breath held still, listening for any sound, but nothing but beautiful, sweet silence greets me. Shifting from side to side, I damn near glide down the stairs, skipping over the last tread because it squeaks.

The air is cooler than I expect, even though the humidity is thick and leaves a sticky coating on my skin. Before I can make it to the old tree house, a muscular arm bands around my waist, and a large hand clasps over my mouth, stifling my scream.

I panic until I catch a whiff of cedar and pine. Jesse. Pulling back, I swat at him, heart still racing. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Poor baby,” he chides, following me up the old ladder. “Who else do you think’d be out here?”

“Not the point.” I settle against the rough wood wall as he lights the lone candle left over from God knows when. It’s a small stump of wax, but once lit, gives off enough light that I can see Jesse’s face clearly.

“So, what’s the occasion?” I nudge his foot. “We haven’t done this since… It’s been a long time.”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

My eyes find his in question. “Everything okay? It’s not your gram, is it?” I overheard my mom talking to Mrs. Collins last Tuesday about Jesse’s grandmother. Two weeks ago she suffered a mild stroke. The stroke caused some mobility issues, which resulted in her falling and fracturing her right hip.

“No, no.” He dips his head, scratches the back of his neck. “Just been thinking a lot.”

“About?” My fingers glide over the scarred wood, finding a rough carving of our initials in the weatherworn post.

“Stuff.”

“Stuff?” I repeat, even though I know Jesse won’t offer much more until he’s ready.

He reaches into the pocket of his grey sweatpants and thrusts a small cardboard box at me. “Here.” He shoves the box under my nose. “I got you this.”

Our fingers brush against each other as I take the box from him. It’s light and I shake it once, my eyebrows pinching together in concentration. “What is it?”

“A present—”

“You got me a present?” I cut him off.

He rolls his eyes. “Just open it.”

I lift the lid from the box to reveal a thin silver chain with a small black and white yin-yang charm on the end. It’s delicate and simple—I love it.

He peers at the necklace. “Maybe it’s stupid…” He hesitates. “But I thought, it was like—”

“You and me.” I cut him off again.

His eyes light up, maybe in relief, and he nods his head. “Yeah.”

On the most basic level, I understand the visual representation; he’s dark skinned and I’m of fair complexion. But on a deeper level, I also get the meaning: two halves of the same whole, unable to exist without each other. The black, so powerful and strong, much like Jesse, still needs the tiny dot of white for balance, a reminder to slow down and enjoy life. In contrast, the white, so light and pure, requires the small splash of black to push beyond its comfort zone, much in the way Jesse has inspired me to live more freely.

Apart, the colors are neither good nor bad.

Together, they are perfect.

Just like us.

“You like it?

“I love it.” My voice is tight with emotion. “Help me put it on,” I say, gathering my hair in a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck.

He moves behind me, his large fingers working the small clasp with surprising dexterity. Once the necklace is hooked, he rests his hands on my skin, sending a chill down my spine. But when he dips his head and places a soft kiss at the base of my neck, my whole body shivers. He had to have noticed.

But he doesn’t say anything, simply moves back beside me and remains quiet. A little flustered, my fingers toy with the chain.

“This is really beautiful, Jes. Thank you.” He meets my eyes and nods, but before he can say anything, I continue. “You didn’t have to…” My fingers drag along the tiny links of the chain. “I feel bad I didn’t get you anything.”

He turns his head to look out the small window before bringing his eyes back to me. “I know… I just…” He inches marginally closer. “I’m going to miss you. We won’t be able to do this anymore.”

I sigh. “I know.” Finding his eyes, I say, “We can talk on the phone. And text. And visit.”

He agrees. “I know, but it won’t be the same.”

“Jes,” I say, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He would never admit it, but I know him, and he doesn’t deal well with change. At all. Ever since his parents’ divorce…

He lets me hold him like that, rests his head on my shoulder. A current of wind blows through, and the breeze extinguishes the candle.

I begin to pull away, but his voice whispers through the darkness. “Ry?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay with me?”

“For you? Always.”