She bites her lip. “Alright, but I’m only listening to you because you wished Ana happy birthday. And you gave me twenty bucks at Big Star.”

I start as I look over at River, who’s smiling.

“Didn’t think you recognized me,” he says softly.

“You aren’t Bruce, but you’ll do.”

He smiles, a gentle one. “May I carry you?”

She nods, another tear escaping as her chest hitches. “Yeah.”

“What do you think about aliens?” Carl asks June. “Real or fake?”

She ponders it as she sips on her coffee, her eyes darting around the den, landing on me as I stand next to the counter then coming back to Carl. She’s trying to figure him out as they sit at his kitchen table. “Never met one, but who am I to say what’s true. Half the town believes it. There’s even some kind of museum downtown.”

“The truth is out there,” Carl says in a serious voice.

“Brings in tourists, I guess,” she says, and the conversation is so mundane that I can’t stop staring. “I’m from Atlanta but ended up here to get away.”

Oh, June. Her son…

My throat tightens. It’s not a topic for now, but I make a note to talk to her about her son later. I’ll have to ease into it; I know she has boundaries. Talking doesn’t make the pain go away, but it gives the person who died a name in the universe and makes them important. I want her whole story someday. I want her to let me love her.

She nibbles on a piece of toast Benji made earlier. He slathered strawberry jelly all over it and gave it to her like it was a filet. She looks at Carl from underneath her lashes. “I think you might be crazy though.”

He grins. “All the best people are.”

She cocks her head.

He gives her another smile.

She blinks rapidly and pets Oscar, who’s curled up in her lap.

River drove us to Carl’s house about an hour ago, a small brick place on the outside of town. He knocked on Carl’s door while we sat in the truck, waiting as River talked to him. I’m not sure what he said, but Carl listened, then opened his door and called out, Come on in, friends.

Her knees have been bandaged, and there’s a new hat on her head, one Carl offered, an old Braxton beanie. Since her clothes were soaked, she changed into some gray joggers, fuzzy socks, and one of Carl’s flannel shirts.

River and I linger in the kitchen, drinking coffee. It’s two in the morning, but neither of us seem in a hurry. Benji is slumped in the recliner in the den, snoring, Spike attached to him like a tick.

River has a hand behind my neck, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of my head. I sigh and lean against him as I listen to them. Carl and June seemed to see something in each other from the moment she walked in, a kinship, two people who aren’t like everyone else. Once you’ve experienced loneliness, you see it in others.

Carl tells June about the RV camper he has in his back yard, how it has electric and water and would she like to stay there.

“I don’t know,” she says slowly.

“There’s a skylight,” he adds. “I mean it’s probably dusty and stuff, but we can clean it up. Might help you feel like you’re outside and such. And I don’t mind if Oscar stays with you.” His voice is gruff, and I think he’s feeling her sense of helplessness. Maybe he’s been there.

River massages my scalp, his fingers digging in as if sensing my tension.

June swallows thickly, then a long sigh leaves her chest. “I’d like to look at it. And if Oscar likes it…”

Carl grins. “Excellent.”

“She’s okay,” River promises me softly, his voice low in my ear. “Carl wouldn’t hurt a flea, and she’ll have her space. You can come see your family whenever you want.”

I gaze up at him, the strong face, those broad shoulders.

My heart tightens. He’s my family, too.

I grab his face and kiss him long and hard right there in Carl’s shabby kitchen.

“Thank you for helping,” I murmur as I rub my thumb down his jawline.

“I didn’t do anything.”

He is so wrong.

He was incredibly strong and supportive, all while wondering what happened between me and Donovan. “I wish we were somewhere cool, like a rooftop with the stars looking at us, so I could tell you everything I need to say. I wish you hadn’t left me last night, River. Is… I mean, are we okay?”

“You’re mine, Anastasia. I can’t let you go. I did once.”

“I should have ended things with Donovan after this summer, but part of that was not wanting to give up being at the house, seeing everyone, seeing you…” I stop, uncertainty tugging at me, at how he’ll take my words. “I did love him, but it’s nothing like…” this. “Am I a terrible person?”

“Never.” He pulls me into him, spreading his legs so I can fit there. He gazes down at me.

“What?” I say when he hasn’t said anything, just searching my face.

“Rainbow, I love you,” he says in a quiet voice. “Crazy. Insane. Like can’t get you out of my head since that night in the library. It all happened so fast, and I was looking out for Donovan…then you showed up in my bedroom, and I figured out your name, and I knew I’d fucked up. Watching you with him nearly killed me, it did, and I pushed through, but that’s done. You, you…slay me, baby girl.”

Emotion whips at me, sneaking in and wrapping around my heart. A tear slips down my face, and he wipes it away.

“Ah, don’t cry.”

I fell for him a long time ago, the feeling born that moment in the library when he dropped his pen. The way he gazed at me, like he couldn’t take his eyes off me, the way he pretended to be reading a book. Oh, I tried to push him to the back of my mind, to forget him, because it was the right thing to do for Donovan, but I couldn’t. He’s always been part of my thoughts, lying in wait, itching to bubble to the surface. That feeling blossomed and grew solid the morning he shared the sunrise with me.

You stay gold, Anastasia, breathe every breath, read all the books, get into law school, fuck the haters, and stay beautiful.

Who says things like that? HE DOES.

He believes in me. Accepts me the way I am.

I’m in love with his random personality, the tender way he talks about his mom, his complexity as a person, his vulnerability, his three things that guide him…

The truth is, I never had these feelings for Donovan. This consuming need. This feeling of being connected by something bigger than me.

“I love you, Snake.” Another tear escapes and I bite my lip. “Sorry. It’s just…” I pause, circling back to some of what I think has been worrying him. “I know we haven’t spent a lot of time one on one, but we didn’t have to. Sometimes big moments happen in a heartbeat, like the library. I believe in destiny and fate, I do. Even when you pretended to hate me and wouldn’t look at me, my body knew the exact moment you got on the elevator behind me. I’m saying stuff that feels too soon, I know, and I don’t want to put pressure on you. I know you have enough, you do, and I do too, but things are moving fast, it’s the end of the term, and we feel so fragile, but…”