Page 157 of Dream On, Ramona Riley

Because the fact was, Ramona loved her.

Loved her so much she sometimes couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see straight, couldn’t remember what she’d been doing when the memory of a kiss or mushrooms or the way Dylan liked to link her pinkie with Ramona’s when they walked down the street washed over her, a surprise tsunami. No matter what had happened or how it ended, no matter that Dylan had fake dated Ramona to smooth over her image problem, Ramona had fallen in love with Dylan.

And she needed time to fall out.

She took a deep breath, then focused her brain on dinner for the night. “How about—”

“The Griffith Observatory,” April blurted loudly.

Ramona turned to look at her best friend, who was staring down at her phone, her brows wrinkled.

“What did you say?” Ramona asked.

April looked up at her. “The Griffith Observatory.”

Ramona’s breath stilled in her chest, her lungs suddenly refusing to fill.

I’d go to the Griffith Observatory. Every day at sunset. It’s gorgeous then. Soft and romantic and perfect.

“The…the Griffith Observatory?” Ramona asked. “Why are you talking about the Griffith Observatory?”

April handed over her phone. Olive pressed closer to Ramona, looking over her shoulder at the screen.

At first, she only registered pictures of the sky—tiny squares, three across, the LA skyline at sunset. But then she realized she was looking at Dylan’s Instagram page, and her hand flew to her mouth.

Because these were pictures of the Griffith Observatory at sunset.

And I’d post a picture on my Instagram every day that I went. No caption, or maybe a caption only you would understand.

Underneath each picture, there were only two things in the caption—a cherry emoji and a lollipop emoji.

“Oh my god,” Ramona said.

“What?” Olive asked. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” April said. “But I feel like those emojis can’t be a coincidence.”

“Emojis?” Olive asked, squinting at the screen. “What does a cherry and a lollipop have to do with anything?”

“Cherry,” Ramona said. “Cherry and Lolli.” She looked up at her sister. “That’s what Dylan and I called each other the first time we met when we were thirteen.”

Olive’s mouth opened, then closed again. She squeezed Ramona’s arm, a gentle weight that Ramona needed right now.

And I’d wait there for you every day until the observatory closed for five days.

“Oh my god,” Ramona said.

“What?” April asked.

Only five?

“Oh mygod,” Ramona said again.

“What, what?” April said, her voice nearly a screech.

I figure that’s enough time for you to know if you wanted to see me.

Ramona counted the photos—today’s photo, posted just twenty minutes ago, was the fifth one. Ramona felt frozen, locked in place by a million emotions.