Epilogue
Rue
I set the video game controller down and yawn. “Ezra, we’ve played three rounds. I’m done.”
He grins and tucks a stray curl behind my ear. “Why? Because I’m the best?”
“Yes. You’re the best.” I place a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s get out of here. I need movement. My legs are stiff from sitting so long.”
Ezra chuckles. “Fine. Let’s go.”
On our way out the front door, Mrs. Davis gives me a hug. “You’re coming back again tomorrow, right?”
“Of course. Thanks for having me over so much.”
She laughs. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen my son smile so much.”
From the kitchen table, Olivia chimes in, “Because he finally has someone to torture with video games all summer.” Then she slips Chai Guy a bite of her sandwich.
Rolling his eyes, Ezra holds the door for me. “Alright, bye everyone. I’ll be back soon.”
We walk outside together, hand in hand. This has become a bit of a routine of ours over summer vacation.
Video games at his house, Ezra teaching me how to play basketball, driving downtown for lobster rolls and a walk through the park, and iced lattes at Sip of Joy.
This time, I’m too full for lobster rolls thanks to his mom stuffing me with delicious food not too long ago, so Ezra drives us straight to Sip of Joy.
The bell over the cafe chimes as we step inside, and the familiar scent of espresso and vanilla wraps around me. Some things haven’t changed, like the soft hum of conversation, the mismatched mugs, or the sunlight spilling through the windows in golden squares across the floor.
But Ezra and I have.
We slide into the corner booth, the same one we sat in months ago, when everything between us felt complicated and fragile and unfinished, and I was under pressure to post as Little Birdie.
Thankfully, no one at Fallbrook has touched the app or entered their name after the spectacle that was made of me by the school and the app itself, and now, it feels so good to be able to hug and kiss him whenever I want without being afraid of my feelings.
While Ezra orders our iced lattes, I pull my laptop out of my bag, flipping it open as a document fills the screen.
Title: Untitled (for now)
It’s the first thing I’ve ever written that actually feels like mine. I’m not fixing someone else’s story for once, or hiding behind an anonymous gossip app. I’m just being me.
“Hey.” Ezra slides into the booth across from me, a grin already forming. “I’ll trade you a kiss for your drink.”
“Deal.” I giggle, leaning forward to press my lips to his. Instead of letting it be a brief kiss, he gently holds me there by the back of the neck, and I melt a little in the process. When we break apart, he nods at my computer. “How’s the screenplay coming?”
I turn the laptop toward him just enough for him to see a few lines. “I think good? It’s weird, though. I thought I loved analyzing other people’s stories, but—”
“You love this even more,” he finishes.
I blink. “Yeah. Like, so much more.”
“I knew you would.”
Out the window, I notice someone dribbling a basketball down the street.
Ezra follows my gaze. “Want to practice together later?”
I grin. “Sure. Only because you make it so fun.”
“Are you sure? I can’t have you getting tired of my favorite sport, so you have to promise you’ll tell me if you’re over it.”
“Yes, I know, Mr. Insufferable Scholarship Man.” I hold his gaze, letting humor lace my tone. “I never thought I’d say this, but I love basketball now. But it definitely has something to do with you.”
He grins. “Nah, it’s definitely the sport. Basketball is amazing, Sullivan.”
I drape my arm across his torso, nuzzling into him.
“It is. But it’s nothing compared to how much I love you.
” After dating him for this long, it’s finally not hard for me to say anymore.
If anything, it feels freeing to express how I feel about him.
It’s crazy that I ever thought I needed a platform to find my voice, because it was never missing in the first place. I’ve had it all along.
But the best part of it all? It’s not my own voice I need to listen to. I have the voices of my friends, my mother, and the Lord to guide me—the latter being the best one of all.
And even though I no longer feel like a wallflower, I can’t deny that listening is still what I do best.