Chapter 2

Up on the stage, the two of them finally spotted me.

Mason waved hard and came jogging over, pushing the prize he'd won into my hands. A stuffed starfish.

"Lucas! Happy birthday. And don't you dare get jealous. The only reason I held my nose and played boyfriend with Avery was to win you this thing."

For me. Again.

I looked down at the toy. Its mouth was open in a grin, like it was laughing at how slow I'd been.

They walked on side by side, leaving the space on Avery's left open for me, the way they always did.

I caught the hem of her shirt. "Let's break up."

"What?" She hadn't caught it. She bent down and turned her left ear toward my face.

"I said, let's break up!" I raised my voice.

She still looked blank.

I was about to say it a third time when Mason said, lightly, "Fireworks are about to start. We'll lose our spot if we're late."

Avery straightened up instantly, took his hand, and ran.

I was left standing there alone with the words stuck in my throat and nobody interested in them.

On the platform up ahead, I watched Mason lift Avery onto his back.

The fireworks opened across the night sky and lit up the whole park.

Bright enough that I saw it clearly. Avery leaning down to his ear. And kissing him.

The noise around me didn't stop, but I couldn't hear any of it.

My hand went to my chest without my telling it to. Nothing there was injured. It still felt like something had torn open.

The wind poured straight in.

So cold.

I turned around and walked against the crowd toward the gate.

My phone buzzed. Mom.

Sweetheart, happy birthday! How was your day? Did Avery surprise you?

The year we made it official, Avery was twenty, and she promised my mother to her face that she'd marry me before I turned twenty-five.

Today I turned twenty-five. No flowers. No rings. Just a betrayal, front to back.

My fingers hovered over the screen. I typed and deleted, typed and cut it down, and in the end I sent one line.

Mom, I don't want to get married anymore. I want to come home.

In the car back from the park I stared out at the lights and tried to work out where I'd even start if she asked me why.

With the left ear that never quite heard me? With their fingers laced together?

With a perfect score on a couples' quiz, or a kiss under the fireworks that neither of them could help?

Finally Mom wrote back. Two lines.

Sweetheart, whatever you decide, I'm behind you.

I clean your room every day. My boy is welcome home any time.

Everything I'd been holding down broke at once. I put my hands over my face and cried.