“I’m so happy you’re home,” I whisper, hugging him tighter.
“I hear you started a Free Shane campaign and got me out of juvie, and then, obviously, you worked on my dad until he was willing to spring me from foster care. Damn, Sage. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Say good-bye to you.”
“My mom believed in me like that … but nobody else, since. Not until you.”
“It doesn’t matter where we’ve been,” I tell him. “Only where we’re going.”
“I have no doubt,” he says, stroking my hair. “But I want to make you a deal.”
“Hm?” The way I’m basking in him, I’d probably agree to anything.
“You’ve fought for me, figuratively, from the beginning, and I needed somebody to care. You have no idea how much. Then I lost my mind over the idea of anyone hurting you and fought for you, literally. But … we’re both okay, right? Let’s stand down now. And just be together. Okay?”
“Deal,” I say.
He smiles with both his eyes and his mouth. “So … I have these tickets. And I was kind of hoping you’d go with me. Interested?”
“Try and stop me,” I answer.
Then he kisses me, and all the pain and sadness slips away with the heat of his mouth on mine. I’ve had so many people leave, but this is the first time anyone’s come back. I hold him tighter, press closer, but we’re cut off by the bell.
“I’d suggest getting out of here, but I don’t want to get in trouble.”
So we step out of the classroom together, holding hands, and nearly bump into Dylan. Despite his participation in Green World, he’s been walking around alone a lot lately, and he looks tired. He can’t meet Shane’s eyes. Then someone shoves him into a locker. I hear he’s banned from playing baseball this spring, and the coach isn’t sure he’s letting him back on the football team next fall. Coach says his players need to be honorable; they need to be leaders, and Dylan let the team down. This means he has almost no shot at an athletic scholarship, so he might not be going to college. Straightening, Dylan threads his way through the crowd and continues to class.
I break away for a sec, dig into my backpack, and pull out my Post-its and my pen. I write It will get better … it did for me, and stick it on his locker. Since he offered an olive branch at Green World’s garden day, I can, too. Maybe if the rest of the school sees that I can forgive him, they’ll move on. This is who I want to be, the girl Shane fell in love with. She’s real. She’s me.
“That was nicer than I’d be,” Shane says softly, watching me.
All around us, people are yelling, “Shane!” like they’re happy to see him. Someone calls out, “Hope you’ll be back at the Coffee Shop. Love your music.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says to the girl. Then he adds to me, “I need to talk to the manager at the P&K, too. See if I can get my job back.”
The rest of the day passes in a happy blur. I’m on a Shane high, giddy with relief and excitement. For the first time in weeks, the color’s back in my world. No more monochrome; there are vivid swirls of red, green, and blue, all vibrant, all beautiful.
That weekend, I go shopping with Lila at the thrift store downtown. This area has mostly shut down, though a few funky boutiques, including the shop my aunt manages, are still squeaking by. I love this store; it’s always got such interesting clothes.
After trying on a couple of failures, I spot a blue dress with sequins on the bodice and a layered tulle skirt. I’ve got nice shoulders, and this will disguise my hips, if I can wiggle into it. I peer at the size. Looks like a ten. Maybe. Nervously, I take it to the fitting room and it slips on like it’s made for me. I don’t even mind that it hits right at my knees. I step out, calling Lila over.
“What do you think?”