Chapter 23
If someone could take a picture of the inside of my head during the holiday season, it would look a lot like Wade’s.
The place is an arcade disguised as a hipster bar disguised as the North Pole.
There are so many twinkle lights and ornaments hanging from the ceiling that it’s almost hard to see.
Sabrina Carpenter is belting “A Nonsense Christmas” through the speakers over the zap-boom-pow s of all the games, while servers crisscross the space in red-and-green suspenders and Santa hats.
Despite the fact that the world is about to be under siege by a record-breaking snowstorm, Wade’s is a tornado of humanity, everyone whipped up into a preholiday frenzy.
Normally, I’d be thrilled to be in this place, but damn—the unfinished business of it all. When her phone went off, Carlos’s text sent us both into a comical frenzy of Right, okay, got the tamales, good, great, go!
Still, as much as I hate that we were interrupted, I can’t help feeling a little smug—Eve was definitely as flustered as I was. Maybe even more. I just need one more moment like that…
Once we’ve secured a table at Wade’s, delivered the tamales, and signed in for the contest—which seems to be a much bigger deal than I ever could have imagined—Eve shouts that she’s going to grab drinks.
“Wade makes this small batch butterbeer for the holidays. I think you’re going to love it,” she says.
My heart glows as she walks away. She’s taking notes on what I might like, or love. That’s what I do with my gift list for people I really care about! I rest my cheek on my fist and watch her. Then I realize what I must look like.
Good god, Bosley, get ahold of yourself!
I straighten up and pull my hat down just as Carlos and the rest of the gang arrive, shaking off the snow and shedding their coats. I’ve had the camera rolling and managed to capture the triumphant entrance just in time.
“Y’all ready for this?” Carlos shouts, as Eve makes her way back with our butterbeer.
“We are here to sleigh the competition,” Cash says. “Get it? Like Santa’s?”
“We get it,” Diya assures him.
Izaac rubs his hands together, maybe for warmth, but also possibly to channel some diabolical villain.
“Did you know there’s a bar in New York that’s more than two hundred fifty years old and at one time served George Washington? Still in operation, too,” Diya says, as if to prove her readiness.
“Wow,” Carlos says. “I didn’t!”
“She’s small but mighty,” Izaac says, and Diya shrugs, but she’s a little smug too.
Then Carlos looks at Audra.
“What? Me, ready? Do you not s ee this game face?” Audra says, pulling a mean sneer that looks completely out of place on her.
“How could I look away?” Carlos says, and Audra bats her eyelashes like a literal animated princess.
I shoot a look at Eve, who just returned with our drinks, and she snickers back softly.
“What is that ?” Cash asks, pointing to the drink Eve hands me, which is in a giant glass stein and topped with a mountain of caramel-drizzle-covered whipped cream.
“ That is Wade’s butterbeer,” Carlos says. “One of the best things on the planet. Pure sugar bomb. Actually? Probably exactly what we need to get y’all amped right now.”
Hugo looks up in a way that seems to say One for me, too, please .
So Carlos turns to the bar, cups a hand around his mouth, and hollers, “Wade! Round of BB’s! My tab.”
“Professional opinion, Strudel?” Eve asks, nodding to the one in my hand.
It’s not the first time she’s used the nickname tonight, but it is the first time in front of everyone—and I can’t be totally sure, but I am pret-ty sure that Eve is blushing.
I take a sip, in part because I feel a grin coming on that I need to hide immediately.
“Holy butterscotch heaven,” I say, and my eyes roll back in my head.
“Let me guess. Magic?” Eve asks, clearly teasing me.
“Tease all you want,” I say. “A little at a time, I’m going to make you a believer.”
“Yours is on the way,” Carlos says to Cash, who looks like he’s about to steal mine.
“I’m going to use the bathroom before we get started,” Diya says.
“Perfect, quick recess,” Carlos says. “Hugo and I will post up at the bar and wait for the drinks. Then you guys, go get that crown!”
This whole time, I thought everyone was joking about the crown thing, but now Carlos is pointing, and there, high above the host stand on the stage at the back of the bar is an actual crown—the kind meant to sit on someone’s head. Except that this one is made of candy canes and… something else…
“I’m sorry,” I say, when it dawns on me. “Is that thing made of fruitcake ?”
“Lit, right?” Carlos waggles his eyebrows and nods.
“Finally,” Cash says. “Someone who understands me.”
We all follow Diya’s lead in turns and when I get back from the restroom, I find her staring into space, alone. She’s been quieter than usual since we reconvened.
“Penny for your thoughts? Or maybe a quarter for some pinball?” I gesture to the extensive selection of machines lining the wall beyond the gender-neutral bathrooms.
“They cost three dollars and it’s Apple Pay,” she says, without looking at me.
“Right, obviously.”
I lean against the wall beside her in one of the few open spaces as we both exhale for the first time today and try to take it all in.
“Man, Bosley, I see why you love this city.”
Now I freeze. I worry that if I move, I might scare her off and ruin whatever is happening right now. Is Diya about to admit that she’s sold on Brooklyn?
“Right?” I agree, trying to stay casual, afraid to push too hard until I hear more from her.
“Oh, also? Those tamales !” she says.
“Right?” I repeat, louder this time.
“Epicurean excellence.” She seals the review with a chef’s kiss, and that’s it. I can’t help it. All the emotions hit me at once—and I turn and hug her so tight, it’s probably dangerous.
“Jeez, Bosley, what the—”
“I’m so glad you came today,” I say into her collar.
“As if I was going to miss you finally getting your first kiss!” she says, pushing back and looking at me like I’ve lost it. Which, maybe I have a little.
“Not just that,” I say. “I’ve been trying so hard to get you to come around on New York. All this time, I didn’t realize all we had to do was bring you here!”
“What do you mean?” Now Diya looks genuinely puzzled.
“Well, you just said yourself that you get it! Maybe now we can look for schools you can apply to next year, so we can all be together after you graduate! I mean, don’t worry. I’ll still visit you in Ripton next year. And of course, kidnap you to Brooklyn from time to time.”
Diya is silent again.
“I mean… right?” I ask, slowing down.
“Oh, B,” Diya says, still looking sad. “Always writing your own version of reality.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s not… No. You’re right that I’ve been taking an interest in New York, but that’s because I love you guys and I want to know about your future life.
Today was just a chance for me to see it in person.
And you’re totally right that today helped me see how fun it is to visit—although I may not have chosen the eve of the apocalypse… ”
“Fair,” I say.
“And I wish I could say I wanted it. It would make my life a lot easier too, trust me. What I meant when I said I see why you love it, was that I see why you love it, because it’s perfect for you .
I can see that really clearly after today.
But… I’m just not a city girl, B. I mean, come on—the concrete to chlorophyll ratio is a literal assault on my nervous system! ”
My heart sinks as I cast for a counterpoint.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I mean, I hear you, but how do you not love this? Trade-offs, right?”
I gesture around the space, and as if on cue, some dude-bro smashes into my shoulder and spills half his beer on my shoe, and then continues on his way like he didn’t even notice. I laugh, even though I could also cry. I’m doomed to soggy shoes.
“Oh, Bosley.” She lets out the tiniest ironic laugh.
“Look, there’s something else you should know.
I appreciate how sensitive you’ve been about next year, wanting to make sure I don’t feel left behind.
Obviously I hate the idea of us all being apart.
But we approach our anxiety about the future differently.
I think you try to hold on to what we have until the future comes.
For me, it’s more about planning for what is unavoidable.
Being away from you guys is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. So I had to be proactive.”
My heart aches at the thought.
“Okay, what does that mean, exactly?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want the answer.
“Honestly, at first I didn’t want to admit how scared I was about you guys leaving. But then one day, I was talking to Seichi…”
“Awww!” I start, but she holds up a Don’t even hand.
“Just listen, Bosley.”
I mime lip-zipping, and let her finish.
“Anyway, I told him what I was afraid of, and he really listened, and then a few days later he let me know he told his father, which was like, horrifying . But… something kind of amazing came of that conversation, and, well, tomorrow is my last day at Cooper.”
“What?” It’s a good thing we’re in a crowded bar, because I shout the word so loud that Diya looks around to see if we’ve caused a scene, but thankfully no one notices.
“B, I love the farm, you know that. But Seichi’s dad offered me a job.
A really cool one. For his gardening business, he asked if I’d be willing to spearhead a whole new project—an operation to reduce unnecessary tree removal and promote long-term canopy growth.
We’re going to focus on native tree restoration and help people choose species that will survive changing weather patterns.
I’m calling it the Tree Health & Longevity Division,” she says with a two-handed flourish, like she’s holding up a sign.
“I’ll get to start in the spring, but I’m going to take the next few months off to really prepare for it. It’s… kind of a dream.”
At the word dream , she literally lifts up on her tippy-toes. She’s practically levitating, and her eyes are glowing, she’s so happy, so I really want to show up for her with commensurate enthusiasm—despite that I don’t quite feel it.
“Damn, Diya, that’s incredible!” I eke out with as much gusto as I’ve got, and give her a high five that turns into another hug.
“Thanks, B,” she says mid-hug, but something else dawns on me, and I pull back.
“Wait, why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Honestly? I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”
“What? Why? ” I ask reflexively.
“B,” she says, and just stares at me. “We all know you’re not exactly a fan of change… or things not going according to, uh, script.”
I frown now, because is it so unreasonable that I just want us to be together?
“Well, I’m not trying to control everyone—I just want us to stay close, ya know?”
“I do. And we all do, B, really. But it’s just… we all have ideas for our own characters too, I guess.”
I pause, trying to reconcile how much I love Diya and want her to be happy, with the fact that she thought her sharing her happiness would make me mad. Then something else occurs to me.
“Man, I’ve been getting you all wrong lately. I figured you might be freaking out over not getting back tonight. But I guess it’s a little less critical that you keep your job at Cooper…”
“Wellllll, you’re not entirely wrong about the wanting to be home part,” she says. “I was hoping to see Seichi.”
“Yes!” I shout, cheering up at this pivot. “I knew it! You love him!”
Diya’s light brown cheeks flush poinsettia red. “Okay, settle down,” she says. “ Love is a little extreme. But… I guess I do have a thing.”
“A crush,” I clarify.
She shakes her head, but her smile says one thousand percent.
“The precursor to love. A prerequisite for the master class.”
She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, we were supposed to hang out tonight. Well, technically tomorrow morning. Like two a.m. so we could measure the barometric pressure before the storm.”
“Holy shit, Diya. That is the nerdiest , most…” I pause, and she looks so vulnerable after finally admitting this, I can’t tease her anymore. “… most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
And as the words come out of my mouth, I realize it’s true. And that what’s best for Diya really is to stay in Ripton, and live her own dreams, with her own love interest. And I really am rooting for them even if it means I have to give up on keeping Diya close.
“I wonder if this is what it’s like when parents have to let their kids fly away from the nest,” I say. “Except I guess you’re staying in the nest. Or in town, anyway.”
Diya laughs. “I’ll keep the nest warm.”
She looks around and I almost forgot where we were, I was so involved in our conversation.
“Ya know, I may never be a city girl, but this…” She looks around at the dive bar, the busted Christmas lights, the graffitied walls, and says, “… this is the most romantic thing ever. This whole day, your optimism, your belief in magic. You give the rest of us hope. You make it feel like finding love—in all the ways—is worth the risk.”
“You think the magic matters?” I ask.
“Bennie, that’s what gave me the courage to make the leap to this new job and maybe this new crush. To put myself out there and have faith, I had to believe. Call it magic if you want. But I think believing in something matters.”
I’ve been thinking about magic in terms of preservation, and keeping things the same and safe and familiar, rather than in the context of risk-taking. But this magic—what Diya is describing—is more about a leap of faith, and trusting you’ll find a new kind of magic on the other side.
“Eve is the luckiest girl ever.”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I think I’m the luckiest girl ever, to have you guys, no matter how tonight shakes out.”
We hug one more time, and with this one I tell Diya the thing I know to be most true.
“Damn, I’m going to miss you.”
“It ain’t over yet,” she says, pulling back and looking right at me. “Besides, who knows if we’ll ever make it out of Brooklyn at this rate?”
I let a hand linger on her shoulder. “Well, if we’re stranded here, at least we’re with our other great loves.”
I look up to see Cash and Izaac making their way back, Eve just behind them. My heart leaps at the sight of them all headed our way.
Then I point to the stage. “Now, tell me, O wise one, what do you know about trivia?”