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Isla and the Happily Ever After(92)

By:Stephanie Perkins


We laugh. Everyone hugs one another goodbye again, and this time, Anna and Meredith have the longest hug. Meredith whispers something to her, and Anna looks moved. She hugs Meredith again. And then Anna and St. Clair are bouncing off into the distance, weaving a path through the accumulating snow. He loudly hums a happy tune.

Lola glances at the full moon. “You know…it’s not that late.”

Cricket extends his arm. “Shall we stroll?”

She slips her arm through it and hugs him closer against her body. “I can’t believe we’re in Paris. Together.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Cricket says to me, and I feel sad that everyone is leaving. “See you in the morning?” he asks Josh.

Josh nods.

Lola and Cricket stroll away, a splash of brilliant colour in a white night. And now there are three. Josh’s expression turns solemn. He places an arm around Meredith, and the gesture makes me recall that, once upon a time, she was in love with St. Clair.

“You okay, Mer?” he asks.

“I am,” she says. “But thank you for asking.”

Another hug, a long one filled with memories. She pulls away first. “Sorry,” she says. “You’ll have to forgive me. My day started early, and I’m beat. I’m gonna head back to the hostel.” But Meredith is definitely not beat. She’s bowing out to let us talk. She’s choosing to be alone – on a night that might be bittersweet for her – to give us a chance at…I’m not sure what.

“It was nice seeing you again,” I say. And I mean it. I’m grateful for this sacrifice.

“Don’t get too sad. I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday.” And she winks before leaving. “See you tomorrow, Josh,” she shouts.

Josh’s hands are in his pockets, and his shoulders are up to his ears. “She’s not my most subtle friend. Which is saying something. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. She’s really nice.”

“She is.”

“All of your friends are nice.”

He looks at me. “I’m glad you think so.”

We’re quiet. The snow falls softly against his dark hair.

“So,” I say.

“So.” He glances at his feet. “Can I walk you home?”

My body flushes. “Yes. Please. Thank you.” I look away, embarrassed.

Without needing to say it aloud, we choose a route towards the dorm that will have fewer people. We walk in silence. The flakes are getting fatter. The hush should feel peaceful, but the nervousness inside of me only grows.

He looks so beautiful in the lamplight. I think I was wrong about him. I hope I was wrong about him. I know I was wrong about myself. We don’t say a word until we reach the dormitory. The first time we walked here together, it was ours. Now it’s only mine. He’s brave for coming back here again, and I can be brave, too.

“Would you…” I say.

Josh watches me. He waits for me to finish the question. He wants me to say it.

“Do you wanna come inside?” I ask. “And talk?”

It looks as if what he’s about to say might kill him. “I wish that I could, but I don’t think I’d be welcome in there.”

Please don’t reject me. “Since when do you care about the rules?”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I don’t care,” I say.

“I do.”

My heart twists harder, heavier. “Will you at least be around for breakfast? When does your train leave?”

“I’m not sure,” he says.

I close my eyes. How could he not know the answer to that question? What kind of excuse is that?

“I want you to have this,” he says.

I open my eyes again. He’s struggling to remove a manuscript from his bag, and now I can see that it’s the reason why it’d been so bulky. The papers take up the entire thing.

My heart breaks. This is why he wanted to meet me tonight.

Against my better judgment, I hold down the bottom of his bag so that he can pull it out. He clutches the manuscript against his chest before presenting it to me with shaking hands. I don’t know if they shake from nervousness or from the weather.

I take it. There’s a new title. Spaces.

“You were right,” he says. “About…a lot of stuff. I’ve been working really hard on it, and I’d love your opinion. On the changes.”

Please don’t make me read this again. “Um, okay.”

He turns hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The weight of his work grows heavier in my arms. “Uh, when would you like this back?”

“Oh, no. That’s yours. To keep.”