We say goodbye to Abby, and then my mom and Liesel, walking out into the cool March air. I still get a frission of satisfaction when I see the Mustang sitting there in my driveway, all shiny and good again.
“You have to name her,” I say, nodding to the car.
She narrows her eyes. “Who says it’s a girl?”
“Come on,” I say, lifting my hands toward it. “Curves like that? She’s all woman.”
She opens the door, sliding behind the wheel, and I follow suit. Even though she looks dubious about the tradition, she still mutters out a, “Well…”
I realize, “You did name her.”
She cranks the ignition, cutting me a narrow-eyed look. “Maybe.”
“So?” I prod, watching as she pulls down the drive, looking like she was born to be in that seat. “What is it?”
I think at first she won’t answer, but once we get onto the highway leading to The Nerd, she finally cracks.
“Theia.”
I look at her in surprise, wondering, “Theia?”
She nods, cheeks flushing. “She was a titan. The goddess of sight.”
I hum, gears turning over in my mind. “Like photography.”
“Kind of. I guess.” She shrugs, eyes fixed to the road as she shifts. “She and Hyperion were also…”
Feeling my mouth curl into a slow smile, I take a guess, “Super-hot lovers?”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Yes.”
I laugh, but can’t deny the warmth that floods my chest. “It’ll fit on a plate.”
“No,” she says, holding up a hand. “I’m not going to be one of those douchebags who gets their car’s name on their license plate. Offense totally fucking intended.”
“None taken,” I respond, shrugging.
When we get to the Nerd, I find that most of the gang is already there. It’s fucking ridiculous, four tables pushed together in the back, Emory arguing with Tyson over a menu while Ben and Reyn engage in a game of table hockey with someone’s discarded bagel.
The girls all surround Georgia in the front, and they’ve left a chair open beside Vandy, who turns to see who’s walking up.
She looks between me and Sugar, standing hand in hand, and lets out a loud, “Oh, thank god! You two were making all the drama between me and Reyn look downright cute.”
The rest of them turn to see us, and it’s all crazy then. Aubrey, Afton, and Elana all looking grossed out and worried about my bruised face, while the guys just point and laugh. I know I was a dick to them all, that a big part of letting Sugar go to protect her included doing the same for them. But they don’t even look mad.
They clear me a seat right beside the one being saved for Sugar, like it’s not even a question. I guess that’s part of being a Devil now. It’s not something you can shake away from when shit gets tough. I sling an arm over the back of her chair, thinking that it’s a damn good thing.
Shit’s never been easy for any of us.
I lean into Sugar’s side, offering, “They have good waffles here.” She turns to give me a smile and I can’t help myself, tipping forward to press a kiss to her lips.
“Aw, this is fucking great,” Carlton mutters. “All these gross couples now. I liked it better when you fuckers were single and emotionally stunted.”
Afton flips her menu over. “They’re still emotionally stunted, no worries.”
Around me, life goes on.
It’s not half bad.
Epilogue
Sugar
Spring at Preston is a lot warmer.
Everyone is gearing up for prom and some big swim meet going down next week. Finals loom in the air. The chatter around me regarding everyone’s summer plans borders on unreal. Vacations to Spain, studies abroad, volunteer programs in South America, internships at Fortune 500 companies…
I shake my head as I make another circle on the map.
There’s a knock on the door—two loud, quick raps—before Sebastian waltzes through it, tossing his bag on the floor.
I watch over my shoulder as he kicks off his shoes. “Someone could have been naked in here, you know.”
He glances up at me, mouth slanted into a wry smirk. “Baby, I live in hope.”
“Don’t call me baby.” I use my pen to point at the bed next to mine. “Georgia lives here, too.”
“I just saw her in the quad.” He shrugs, landing obnoxiously on the bed at my side, stomach-down, just like me. It makes the map crinkle and tear at the corner, and I shoot him a glare. He ignores it, inspecting the marks we’ve been making for the past week. “Huh. You added another one.”
Defensively, I say, “Yes,” and tug the map closer. He’s always got something snarky to say about my itinerary choices.
“Are you for real?” he groans, realizing what I’ve circled. “Four Corners? That’s the most touristy shit ever.”
Hotly, I argue. “It’s neat. Who doesn’t want to stand in four places at once?”
He slides his eyes to me. “Are we taking fanny packs, too?”
“It’s on the way to the Grand Canyon.”
He flops onto his side, face pained. “I was really convinced you were cooler than this.”
I jab him with an elbow. “Stuff it, or I’m putting the Sea Glass Museum back on the list.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
I nod. “Ditto.”
Despite all that, his hand comes out to rest on my lower back, sweeping beneath my shirt. “Got the last one today.” I look at him, noticing now that he looks tired. “Brown.”
I instantly sit up, stomach swooping. “Really?”
He rolls onto his back, pulling an envelope from seemingly out of nowhere. “Came this morning.”
We made a deal to discard the email acceptances, dumping them the instant they hit. Instead, going old school so we could assess it all together. I take the envelope from him. Although I know letter thickness doesn’t mean anything, I still weigh it in my hand. “So, I’m just waiting for Chicago now.”
“Yep.” His eyes follow as I stand to tuck the letter away in my drawer, next to my letter from Rhode Island. His Chicago pick—or maybe more accurately, his father’s—is Northwestern. The envelope for that one is already right there, all snugged up between Emory and SCAD. Our two Yale letters are at the bottom. “We could just open them now.”
I slam the drawer shut. “No!”
He thrusts out a hand. “Come on! We’ve got seven of eight.”
“You’re worse than a kid sniffing out Christmas presents,” I snipe back, folding up the map and stowing it away beneath the bed. “It’ll be better once they’re all here. That way, we can make a choice.”
He makes a low, frustrated sound, because he’s an impatient fuck. “Maybe we can open two per day. It’ll be here by then, won’t it?”
But I stand firm, kneeing up onto the bed. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Virtue can suck my dick.”
“You’re tired,” I say as I snuggle up to his side. I’ve learned that Bass can get on a serious tear about some things, but that he’s also easily distracted. “How’d your test go?”