“It said skinny-dipping was optional, not required,” Jesse replies.

The party is a blast. Jesse cranks up the stereo system, and nearly everyone, well, everyone except for his uncle and lawyer—thank God!—changes into bathing suits and gets into the pool.

Jesse’s song “Waiting for Christmas”—the one I just recorded with him—starts playing slow and strong over the speakers. It still surprises me every time I hear it. It sounds so professional and clear. I’m not sure if it’ll ever be on the radio, but Jesse wants to use it as part of the advertising campaign for his Agape Center. And I’m excited at the possibility of that. Still, it’s weird hearing myself sing a solo.

Everyone at the party cheers for us. It kind of embarrasses me though. I dunk my head underwater and swim toward the deep end. When I come up for air, I shake the water out of my hair.

“Hey, Maya!” Jesse shouts over the music. “Marco!”

He stands up on the steps in the shallow end, giving me that half-cocked smile I love so much, and dives into the water and swims to the deep end. He comes up for a breath, slinging water all over me.

“Polo!”

And under the bright, twinkling stars, I wrap my arms around his neck and we kiss, perfectly in tune.