“He turns another page, and I read:I'M NOT ETHAN. . .. . .AND I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP. . .. . .UNTIL I CAN PROVE TO YOU. . .. . .THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS. He flips to the next page.SO KEEP SENDING ME AWAY. . .. . .BUT I'LL JUST KEEP COMING BACK TO YOU.AGAIN. . .He flips to the next page.. . .AND AGAIN. . .And the next:. . .AND AGAIN.Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin. I shiver, hugging myself tightly.AND IF YOU CAN EVER FIND IT IN YOUR ❤ TO FORGIVE ME. . .. . .I WILL DO EVERYTHING IT TAKES TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU. . .He closes the notebook and tosses it beside him. It lands on the roof with a dull thwack. Then, lifting his index finger, he draws an X across his chest.Cross my heart.”

“And so I make my way across the room steadily, carefully. Hands shaking, I pull the string, lifting my blinds. They rise slowly, drawing more moonlight into the room with every inchAnd there he is, crouched low on the roof. Same leather jacket. The hair is his, the cheekbones, the perfect nose . . . the eyes: dark and mysterious . . . full of secrets. . . . My heart flutters, body light. I reach out to touch him, thinking he might disappear, my fingers disrupted by the windowpane.On the other side, Parker lifts his hand and mouths:“Hi.”I mouth “Hi” back.He holds up a single finger, signalling me to hold on. He picks up a spiral-bound notebook and flips open the cover, turning the first page to me. I recognize his neat, block print instantly: bold, black Sharpie. I know this is unexpected . . . , I read. He flips the page.. . . and strange . . .I lift an eyebrow.. . . but please hear read me out.He flips to the next page.I know I told you I never lied . . .. . . but that was (obviously) the biggest lie of all. The truth is: I’m a liar.I lied.I lied to myself . . .. . . and to you.Parker watches as I read. Our eyes meet, and he flips the page.But only because I had to.I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, Jaden . . .. . . but it happened anyway.I clear my throat, and swallow hard, but it’s squeezed shut again, tight.And it gets worse.Not only am I a liar . . .I’m selfish.Selfish enough to want it all.And I know if I don’t have you . . .I hold my breath, waiting.. . . I don’t have anything.He turns another page, and I read:I’m not Parker . . .. . . and I’m not going to give up . . .. . . until I can prove to you . . .. . . that you are the only thing that matters. He flips to the next page.So keep sending me away . . .. . . but I’ll just keep coming back to you. Again . . .He flips to the next page.. . . and again . . .And the next:. . . and again.Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin. I shiver, hugging myself tightly.And if you can ever find it in your (heart) to forgive me . . .There’s a big, black “heart” symbol where the word should be.I will do everything it takes to make it up to you. He closes the notebook and tosses it beside him. It lands on the roof with a dull thwack. Then, lifting his index finger, he draws an X across his chest. Cross my heart.I stifle the happy laugh welling inside, hiding the smile as I reach for the metal latch to unlock my window. I slowly, carefully, raise the sash. A burst of fresh honeysuckles saturates the balmy, midnight air, sickeningly sweet, filling the room. I close my eyes, breathing it in, as a thousand sleepless nights melt, slipping away. I gather the lavender satin of my dress in my hand, climb through the open window, and stand tall on the roof, feeling the height, the warmth of the shingles beneath my bare feet, facing Parker. He touches the length of the scar on my forehead with his cool finger, tucks my hair behind my ear, traces the edge of my face with the back of his hand. My eyes close.“You know you’re beautiful? Even when you cry?”He smiles, holding my face in his hands, smearing the tears away with his thumbs.I breathe in, lungs shuddering.“I’m sorry,” he whispers, black eyes sincere. I swallow. “I know why you had to.”“Doesn’t make it right.”“Doesn’t matter anymore,” I say, shaking my head. The moon hangs suspended in the sky, stars twinkling overhead, as he leans down and kisses me softly, lips meeting mine, familiar—lips I imagined, dreamed about, memorized a mil ion hours ago. Then he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him, quelling every doubt and fear and uncertainty in this one, perfect moment.”

“A human!” He grasps my hand with both of his and dances me in a circle. Then he stops and pulls out his notebook and a pen, flips it open to a blank page, and poises his pen over the page. “Do you have dreams when you sleep at night? What do you dream about? What did you eat for breakfast? How often do you eat in a day? Omnivore, herbivore, or carnivore? Let me look at your teeth.”He steps close as if he would open my mouth for me and inspect it as if I were a horse for sale. I take a step back and bump into the stall door behind me.”

“One second he was kissing me as if I was as essential to him as oxygen, and the next it was over. He stepped away, looking haunted."Did I do something wrong?"I touched my mouth, missing the heat of him."No." He shook his head and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. I didn't want his hands in his pockets. I wanted them on me."Why did you--?""Not because I wanted to stop kissing you."He looked at my lips. My pulse sped up, but my blood felt like lava moving through my veins."Timing. My timing sucks."Circumstances. Not because of me. I couldn't keep myself from grinning. "Why would you like to try this again then, another time?""I'd very much like to try this again, another time."He grinned, but it carried a touch of sadness. "I'll give you a second to...fix your hair.""My hair?""I'll give you a second to fix my hair. I mean, I'll give you a second while I go fix my hair." He let out a sigh. "I mean, I'll see you downstairs." He turned to walk out of the room, but unfortunately, he forgot to open the door first. I managed to hold in my laughter until he got it right.”

“He glances down and notices that I'm still wearing a certain blue something, and, this time, it's HIS index finger that wraps underneath MY rubber band. I shiver wonderfully. "I'm never taking it off." Cricket brushes the delicate skin of my wrist. "It'll fall off." "I'll ask you for another one." "I'll give you another one." He smiles and touches his nose to mine.”

“Shut up," I hissed. Ticked that he was taller than me, I stepped up onto a nearby coffee table. "I'm not in a cage anymore," I said, keeping enough presence of mind not to poke him in the chest with a finger. His face went startled, then cloric. "The only thing between your head and my foot becoming real close and personal right now is my questionable professionalism. And if you ever threaten me again, I'll slam you halfway across the room before you can say number-two pencil. Got it, you tall freak of nature?”