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Romy faces me, but she still won’t meet me at the end of the counter. It’s as if there’s an invisible line she won’t cross. “Hit me, Roth.”

I take a deep breath. My gaze is steady on her. Even though my whole body is shaking, she’s an anchor in the chaos. She makes every second of this possible. “The color palette is pastels against gray—yellow, a soft pink, lavender, light blue. A California sunrise to set the scene after two college roommates have been up all night studying for a goddamn media theory scholar-based film test. Neither of them wanted to take the class, but there they were.”

Romy’s brow furrows, which it always does when she’s trying to remember something.

“They end up in Devil’s Gate, which the cooler roommate says is a spooky historical landmark, a good distraction from what they’ve been doing. The nerd roommate is less into it, but she looks up to the cooler one, and she would even feel safe venturing into the jungle with her. So it’s fine. Then there will be a few shots of graffiti and decay, but all within the same palette. When they arrive at the Devil’s Gate and venture into the tunnel, the silence is peaceful, not scary. This surprises the nerd roommate. The two roommates lean against the walls of the tunnel, one on each side: the cooler roommate’s feet land to the nerd roommate’s right, the nerd roommate’s feet land to the cooler roommate’s right.”

I adjust my footing. I still can’t decide if I’m doing this in the right order. “The cool roommate tells the nerd roommate that she has a secret, something she trusts only the nerd roommate to know. She tells her that she rejects gender but loves her body, but that she doubts anyone would ever bother to understand, how she thinks they’d question her decision, ask if she was nonbinary enough. The nerd roommate takes her hand and says that of course she’s nonbinary enough, that she loves her no matter what.”

Romy’s eyes are growing watery again. I still don’t think she’s completely processed this, though.

“The nerd roommate admits that she’s wondered for a while if she’s bi, that she thinks about gay kissing sometimes.” I exhale, my heart hammering. “But instead of changing the subject, talking about bisexuality broadly, the nerd roommate does what she’s wanted to do since she met the cool roommate. She asks the cool roommate if she would create a safe environment for her to satisfy her curiosity, even though she knows full well that she’ll like it.”

“Luna…” Romy says, her voice wavering.

“And the two of them kiss, and the nerd roommate understands, finally, that the cool roommate wanted her all along. That one of them had to be brave, and the cool roommate is relieved that she didn’t have to but puts every ounce of passion and caring and love into that kiss in Devil’s Gate at sunrise. The sunlight spills back in, casting their shadows against the walls for a few precious minutes.”

Romy’s hands rise over her mouth. “Luna, I don’t—”

I pull out the first item from the bag: a single framed image of us at Devil’s Gate, our shadows intertwined in the exact way I’d imagined shooting when I was there the other day. Turns out I had the same great idea back in college. I found it among hundreds of artsy photos I’ve taken of Romy over the years.

“I had this shot all along,” I say. “And I never want either of us to forget it.”

“I can’t believe you captured that…”

I smile. “I keep track of everything.”

My chest flutters as Romy inspects the photograph, but this isn’t just about impressing her. It’s about making it up to her. About proving that I know her whole value. “I have to tell you something. Valeria and I slept together, but I wasn’t ready. We broke up. We’re friends now. I guess she’s looking for serious relationships only—she wants to get married, and I’m not ready to marry anyone. And she’s not the one I’d even want to marry if I were.”

Romy sighs, and her hands fall back down. “I did jump to conclusions—”

“I get it. That makes sense. I left abruptly, and we never had a chance to talk about what was happening. And anyway, you were right. I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you over the past few months. I was an oblivious, insensitive friend.” I pull out my plate of slutty brownies, which have I’m Such a Dumbass written in frosting across the tops. “Now this part was my first idea, before I found the picture, but it still kinda gets the point across.”

She laughs as she inspects the brownie tray. “Oh my god, Luna, why are you doing all this?” She blinks back tears as she smiles.

“Because I love you,” I say.

The words feel so light on my tongue. Like I’ve been meaning to say them for years. And I guess I have. But my heart’s in the clouds now that I’m finally saying them this way. And man, Romy doesn’t even get it yet. I can’t believe I’m not the oblivious one this time. I better savor this, because damn, I know it won’t happen again.

“I love you too,” she says.

I beam, finally removing item three.

A bouquet of red roses.

And when she holds them, it still takes her a bit. She turns the bouquet around in her hands, registering the color, thinking through the reasons I could possibly be doing this. I know it’ll hit. I’m ready for it to hit, but I can’t help myself.

I lean across the countertop and press my lips to hers. My hand is on her cheek, the other wobbling on the counter to keep me balanced. The kiss is soft, tender. But firm. I don’t want there to be any room for interpretation in the way our lips mold together. I feel a buzzing from my chest to my fingertips, those happy hormones shooting off like mad. But in my head, for once—for once in my fucking life—it’s silent. This is peace. This is soft, gentle love. It feels inevitable. There’s no uncertainty, no performance, no words we can’t say to each other.

And when she kisses me back, it’s like getting that Hanukkah present I was dying for, it’s being told we’re going to Disneyland, it’s getting into U.S.C.’s production program, it’s hearing Valeria say I have talent. It’s a sizzling win, and I can’t believe it’s happening to me.

No, actually, I can believe it. That’s the point.

We pull away slowly, which gives me enough time to get off the countertop without looking like an idiot. Her cheeks are stained pink, and there’s a goofy smile plastered on her face.

“I…I never thought that’d actually happen,” she says.

I smile. “Me neither, but here we are.”