Page 100 of 16 Forever

“Come on!” Maggie paws at my shoulder. “Why not?”

“Because I’m worried I actually suck at this.”

“So what if you do?”

“Then I’ll feel stupid and embarrassed and not want to take photos ever again?”

“You’re insane,” Maggie says. “Take one we’re both in.”

I mess around with the depth of focus, then grab Maggie around the waist with one arm and hold my camera out with the other. I snap a few pics.

“Yay! Can I at least see those?” Maggie asks.

“Nope.”

Maggie sighs and drops back onto her side. “You wouldn’t let me see your pictures in the fall either, even though you’d obviously gotten very good at it.”

“How about this,” I offer. “When you tell your family and the rest of the world about us, then I’ll show you these photos.”

Maggie sighs. “I am going to tell them, okay? I promise. Just not yet.”

“Okay. But I could be your date at the wedding. I could follow you around with a barf bag.”

Maggie sits up and throws her arms around my shoulders from behind, nestling her head next to mine. “I appreciate that. And I’m so happy about this. About us. It’s just... My mom and dad and sister don’t want me to be with you a second time for the same reason I didn’t want to. They know I’ll likely get hurt again.”

“I know, I know,” I say, turning myself around so I can face Maggie again. “But maybe you won’t! Like, maybe my apology to Layla really did shift something. And either way, we’re feeling goodnow, right? Doesn’t your family care about that? Instead of just you being happy in the future?”

Maggie looks into my eyes with this unreadable expression. Maybe hopeful. Maybe scared. “Is it okay if I just say no on this? For... reasons?”

“It is,” I say.

She kisses me, and I kiss her, and the make-out hold is officially lifted.

“One sec,” Maggie says, lifting her hand off my thigh and bending down to reach for her bag. “I just—” She pokes around in her bag for a moment before stepping over to my desk. She opens thedrawer and studies its contents. “Aha!” She triumphantly lifts up a pack of wintermint gum. “Still here!”

“Ha, what?”

“I left this in there in the fall! For moments like this!” She unwraps a piece and pops it into her mouth. “I love that it’s still here. You want?”

“Uh... I don’t think so.”

“Okay. I feel better now, thanks.” She sits back down and leans in, and we’re kissing again.

But I’m still thinking about the gum.

Like, that’s my desk. And I didn’t even know that was in there. But Maggie did.

She stops. “You all right, Coco?”

“Yeah. Totally.” I clutch the edge of my mattress, trying to shake off this feeling. “You know, I have no idea why you call me that.”

“Coco?”

I nod. “It’s like an inside joke between you and the old me.”

Maggie is silent for a moment. “Yeah. I’m sorry,” she says finally. “When we first started hanging out, I was using both your names a lot. Like calling you Carter Cohen, just in everyday conversation. And then that shortened to CarCo, but you complained that it sounded like a discount car brand.”

“It does. CarCo is the worst nickname I’ve ever heard. Also sounds like a rotting—”