23. SEVEN YEARS AGO
TWENTY-THREE
SEVEN YEARS AGO
LATE FALL, SENIOR YEAR
PAIGE
A light knock at the door woke me up, and I whined, but then I heard, “ Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you . . . ”
Gram was wiggling into my room, coffee in hand, finishing her song, and a sleepy chuckle pushed past my lips.
This woman. The energy. Is the sun even out yet?
I sat up, accepting her caffeinated gift, murmuring, “So early. Why?”
“Gotta enjoy the whole day, my girl. It’s the best day of the whole year.” My chest warmed as I took a sip of my coffee. Early or not, that was sweet. “Plus your boyfriend asked that I make sure you’re up and ready to go by six.”
My heavy eyes blinked up at her. She was wrapped in her signature cardigan, her hair was up in a wild sea of gray curls. “You look like Ursula the sea witch right now,” I mumbled.
She clapped triumphantly, twisting toward my mirror above my dresser. “I love it!”
Ugh. The energy.
She sat down on the bed next to me, while I took another sip from my mug, willing myself to be awake, as her words finally sunk in. Her little teasing tone with the word boyfriend.
To say no one was surprised by me and Linc getting together was the understatement of the century. Reactions ranged from, “’Bout fucking time,” to “Weren’t you already dating?”
The latter came mostly from classmates, the former from Ellis and Gram. I hadn’t seen Christine since Linc told her, but he’d said she was happy about it.
We were still insanely busy. Rent had closed last weekend, so that freed up some of my time, but Linc had been working any spare moment he had to finish editing his film for the festival —Without the Moon was the decided title.
Gram’s palm extending toward me brought my attention back to now, and I glanced down, seeing a bracelet . . . it looked like black pearls, but a little more jagged—rough. My eyes pulled up to Gram.
“I know the rule is no birthday gifts, but . . . I got these lava stones when your Grandpa and I went to Iceland. I’d always wanted to do something special with them, and, well, nothing is more special than my girl stepping into womanhood.”
Oh wow. My smile pulled as she held it open. I lifted my hand and she slid it on my wrist.
“Lava rock is a stone of protection and strength,” she explained. “But I just think it looks cool. And I added a little charm to the middle.”
“A penny,” I said.
“For luck,” she said with a wink.
I loved it. It really did look cool. The black stones were a little grittier than the average beads, heavier, and the black and copper was a color combination I loved.
I placed my coffee on the nightstand and quickly scurried to hug her. “Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome, Paigey May. Happy birthday.”
I smiled into our hug, before she gave me a quick double pat. “Okay, chop chop! I had strict orders, and I will not let my Lincleton down.”
I breathed a laugh, immediately reaching back for my coffee as she started toward my closet. “Now, what does an eighteen-year-old with a hot new stud on her arm wear?” she mused.
I took Gram’s advice and didn’t wear my jeans and T-shirt combo. I opted for a short, dark purple skirt with some black tights—ripped, but not intentionally—and I finished the look off with my black combat boots and a tight, light gray Runaways T-shirt tied at the side of my waist.
I was just slipping on my jean jacket as Linc walked in through the mudroom.
It was still dark outside, and the only light was the small one over the sink, but his eyes locked on me immediately, suddenly making my knees shake a bit.
I tried to release some of the tension by pulling my hair out from under the denim collar of my jacket, saying, “Morning,” with a small smile.
But damn, he’s so hot. How I hadn’t been all over him for years was beyond me, but it was like the moment we kissed, it became a pulsing fact any time he entered a room.
As Gram put it, Lincoln Morrow, my best friend, now boyfriend—was a complete stud.
And the extra layer of appreciation for his brown flannel jacket—the one he always wore around this time of year—was on another level.
His hazel eyes twinkled in the soft light as he smirked and finally walked over, reaching out to me and pulling me into him, but he stopped before hugging me.
Instead, he leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of my lips. “You look hot, birthday girl.”
I giggled, awkwardly. It was the damndest thing. I never thought of myself as hot. My big blue eyes and blond hair often landed me parts in shows where I was playing some version of the “hot girl,” but me—Paige Michaels—I always thought I was more of a tomboy.
But the way he looked at me —the way he kissed me— had me thinking . . . maybe I was hot to him.
I cut off my own wandering thoughts and finally asked, “So, where are you taking me at this ungodly hour?”
He chuckled. “I thought we’d go on a drive before school.”
My eyes lifted with the corners of my lips. A drive.
It’d been a while since we did one.
A proper drive in our universe involved an unknown destination, an unknown playlist, but it had to end with a piece of treasure and discovering a new song.
“Perfect,” I said, and he smiled.
We found our destination at sunrise on the PCH. California was so beautiful, and views like this almost made it seem worth the exorbitant amount of money it cost to live here.
Ocean and mountains. Purples and yellows.
I peeked to my side. Linc and Paige.
He had thought of everything. We were sitting in the bed of his pickup on a blanket, facing out toward the beach. And he’d even stopped for breakfast sandwiches and coffee before he picked me up.
His sandwich was long gone, but he waited until I was chewing my final bite to say, “Do you want your present now or later?”
My lips stretched. I had tried to make the no-presents rule with him a few years ago, but he never listened. And I secretly loved that he didn’t.
Still, I pretended. “It’s a rebellion this year. First Gram, now you.”
“What’d she give you?”
Wiggling my jacket sleeve up, I showed him the bracelet and he held my wrist, looking at it, but his thumb rubbed softly along the thin skin on my hand. “Gram said she found them on a hike to some volcano in Iceland.”
“So pretty. I’d love to go to Iceland.”
“Me too. Gram says it’s the most magical place in the world. Apparently they're really into fairy and troll folklore too.”
“Let’s go one day,” he said, looking up at me.
It felt like a big promise—or it felt like it should be a big promise—but only because he was my boyfriend now.
Still, I couldn’t deny that I wanted to do that someday. With him. So I nodded with a smile, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “Deal. Plus, I think you could totally rock the viking look.”
I smirked, and he pulled me into him, onto his lap. “Oh yeah?” he mused, playfully.
My mouth ticked up teasingly, and I lifted my hand to his hair. “Oh yeah, these locks have serious potential,” I said, then ran my fingers over the light sprinkling of facial hair. “This too.”
He smiled up at me. “You didn’t answer me. Present now or later?”
I twisted my mouth, pretending to contemplate, but then my lips tilted up at the corner.
“Now it is,” he said. I started to move, but he held my thighs tightly. “Don’t you dare move,” he said with a hint of challenge, that same dark glint hit his eyes with the sun slowly rising over the ocean beside us.
I stayed put, because holy fuck was I into his bossy-man routine.
I had never let my mind wander too far with how he’d be if we were ever together like this, but I guess it wasn’t exactly surprising that he was possessive. Dominant.
We’ve both always been fiercely protective of one another. Ellis too. But this was different.
After rustling through his bag, he finally pulled out a square package wrapped in black wrapping paper with glittery stars on it and an electric blue bow.
“Maisie picked the wrapping paper,” he said as he handed it to me.
I smiled. “It’s badass. She’s turning out all right, huh?”
He nodded, smiling too, then said, “Open it.”
I tugged my lip between my teeth but then unwrapped the package. Opening it, I gasped as I saw what looked like some sort of old-world antique box.
It had this gold crescent moon with stars dangling on the lid. I pulled it out of the box he wrapped it in to get a closer look.
It was a hexagon shape and around the perimeter there were carvings of the moon phases.
I was speechless. It was . . . so pretty. So unique.
His hand lifted, opening the lid, and as he did I gasped again. The inside of the lid was black with stars dotted along it, and an iron-looking ballerina figurine rose up. Linc twisted what sounded like a spring being wound, and a song started to plunk through the box.
I listened for a few seconds, realizing . . .
“‘The Killing Moon,’” I said quietly.
Echo & the Bunnymen. It was on a few of our playlists.
This was . . . so cool. So creepy and cool and . . . I loved it so much, but it looked . . . expensive.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
I blinked, trying not to cry. “I love it, Linc. I wish you wouldn’t have spent the money—”
He cut me off with a kiss, then whispered, “You’re worth every penny, Pip,” then flicked the penny on my new bracelet.
I smiled and put the box back down safely so I could properly thank him.
The second I put it down, I grabbed each side of his face and pressed my lips to his. With my hands cradling his jaw, I positioned his face so I could fully taste every bit of him.
Coffee and Silvers.
He gripped my waist with one hand while the other one moved to my nape, fighting me for dominance.
I did the thing he liked. Nibbling along his bottom lip and licking behind the bites as he groaned, his fist gripping my hair.
I pulled my lips away from his, and a small whine escaped him.
I smirked as I slid my hand to the back of his hair and tugged —God, it really was so grabbable it should come with a warning or something— but he looked up at me with curious, lustful eyes, and I put on an admonishing face. “I’m trying to thank you, so stop fighting me.”
His eyes darkened, but he just gave a small, devious pinch to his cheek. “You wanna be in charge?” he asked.
I pulled my lips into my mouth. Other than our little dirty dreams exchange a few weeks ago, we’d never talked about what we liked—what we were into—I wasn’t sure I knew, honestly.
I knew I was into him. The way he looked at me. And I liked when he took charge, but I shrugged. “Maybe sometimes?”
He smirked, pulling my face closer to his. “Baby, you can order me around any day.” And then he kissed me again.
He took the control back, but my grip on it might as well have been a dolphin trying to hold onto a ketchup bottle.
Impossible.
Baby? God, do I love that . And he was kissing me like the hot girl he claimed I was earlier .
Eighteen was looking pretty fucking great.
LINC
“Reese Witherspoon driving off in the Jaguar at the end of Cruel Intentions,” Jenna said.
A few people clapped, and Mr. Harris chuckled at the front of the room. It was last period, and film class had run a little off course. We’d somehow managed to veer off to iconic film shots.
“Oh, no way,” Ellis said. “From that movie, it’s definitely Sarah Michelle Gellar’s close-up tears —Bittersweet Symphony. God. The nineties were a revolution.”
I snorted a laugh, as Mr. Harris said, “Well, I guess that’s an interesting question. What makes the shot iconic? Like, how can we all be sure—if we step on a boat, that someone is going to stand at the front of the ship and yell, ‘I’m the king of the world!’ What do we think that is?”
The class chattered a bit, then Ellis spoke up. “It’s a vibe.”
“Simple as that?” Mr. Harris asked with an amused huff.
I cleared my throat, but I didn’t say anything. Honestly, I was just counting down the minutes until I got to see Paige again.
This morning was amazing. I was so fucking happy she liked the music box—and God, did she thank me. She kissed me for so long and so hard that my lips buzzed the whole way back to school. I could still feel her through first period.
The bell rang and, like I’d summoned her, Paige suddenly walked to the doorway just as Mr. Harris said, “We’ll start tomorrow with your establishing shots. Don’t think I forgot—but well played, Ellis.” He gave a tilt of his chin toward Ellis, chuckling.
I guess he was the one who mentioned the “king of the world” shot that started the whole thing.
But I was more curious as to why Paige was here.
I watched as she walked over to Mr. Harris with a slip of paper, my eyes squinting. “Ah, Paige. Perfect,” I heard him say.
Her eyes flicked over to me, giving a small smile, but then directed her attention back to Mr. Harris. Shoving the rest of my shit in my bag, I started in her direction, but waited off to the side.
Mr. Harris noticed and said, “You can come on over, Linc,” and I awkwardly shuffled over.
To be fair, I was driving her home after we stopped by Queenie’s for a piece of pumpkin pie. Her favorite—and with a November birthday, it was always available.
As I came up beside her, I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep myself from pulling her into me.
I was certifiably obsessed with her little punk-rock princess look.
So. Fucking. Cute.
“I was just telling Paige that an old colleague of mine is doing American Idiot at the Wilturn in the city, and he needs someone to step into the Whatshername role pretty quickly. The show opens in three weeks,” he said to Paige.
Her eyes widened. “I mean, I know most of the music, I think,” she said. “Does he want me to send him a few bars of something?”
Mr. Harris smiled. “I think that would be great. Send it to me, and I’ll send it to him. I’ve already told him about you, but this way my recommendation doesn’t get lost in the shuffle.”
“I can shoot it after Queenie’s,” I told her.
She tossed me a small closed-mouth smile before she looked back at Mr. Harris. “Thank you so much, Mr. Harris. This is awesome. I appreciate it so much.”
“Of course, Paige. I think you’d be perfect for the part. In fact, you should probably wear exactly what you’re wearing now when you film the audition.”
She pulled her eyes down, examining her outfit, “Yeah, you’re right. Though, I do have a ‘Jesus of Suburbia’ shirt I could put on.”
Mr. Harris chuckled. “Sounds great. It’s a paid gig too. A stipend, but it’s something. And it’ll be a regional theater credit on your resume.”
There were a thousand reasons I liked Mr. Harris, but this was a great opportunity. I didn’t know much about the show other than it was the Green Day musical, but shows that came through the Wilturn had a great reputation.
“Linc, do you need the AV room today?” Mr. Harris asked, just as Ellis joined the little gathering at the front of the room.
I shook my head. “No, it’s Pip’s birthday, so color correction will have to wait till tomorrow. I’ve just got the last scene—which should be pretty easy since you fixed it.”
He shook his head. “You shot it, man. I just had some software that I’ve . . . permanently borrowed from an old colleague,” he chuckled.
Ellis laughed. “Careful wording. I like it.”
Mr. Harris waved us off, “Well, happy birthday, Paige. You guys have fun.”
We took her pumpkin pie to go, and brought it back to Darlene’s. I brought my camera in and had been filming Darlene playing the piano while Paige ran through her thirty-two bars of music.
I loved watching them do this. Darlene didn’t play as much as she used to, but it was an artistry of its own just to watch them. They were in their element when they were in front of that piano.
They flowed better and better with each pass at the song, and after three tries, I stopped filming.
“Okay, stand in front of the bay windows—face out toward the street,” I told her.
“Such a bossy director,” she teased, a twinkle in her eye as she passed me. I gave her a look, my eyebrow lifting.
With Darlene distracted by the sheet music, I leaned down over Paige’s ear, “You only get to be in charge sometimes, remember?”
I fucking loved that she wanted to take the lead that way—or at least seemed open to it—but it shouldn’t have surprised me.
She was the one who climbed the tree without peeking back and jumped off the small cliffs at the watering hole by the creek without a second thought.
Got on stage in front of thousands of people.
She smiled again and moved in front of the window like I told her and the light was perfect.
The sun was just setting so it lit her face naturally from behind me. She ran her fingers through her hair and readjusted her clothes. “You look perfect, Pip,” I told her.
“Aww,” Darlene said from the piano, and I snorted.
Paige rolled her eyes but laughed. She turned back to me, and the sun caught her eyes like a wave, and I stopped and stared.
“All right, Linc-on. Let’s do this. I need to get a slice of pie in before Ellis gets here and eats half of it.”
And just like that, she was back in charge.
I had pretty much made a habit of following her lead in most other things. But the urges I had with her had four years to dance around as just ideas in my head.
I wanted to do anything and everything with her.
But there was no need to rush. We had time.