Page 33 of Wherever You Are

She wavers. “So that’s a…yes?” Seeing that it is—even before I answer—she hands me the phone.

“Yeah.” I tweak the lighting settings, and then I raise the camera towards us. She stands on her tiptoes to be closer to me, theStreets of Ragemachine a backdrop.

I dip my head towards hers, my hair brushing my eyelashes. We’re not touching, but thenot touchingthing almost builds more tension.

A good kind.

Willow smiles that awkward smile, more horizontal like a line than upturned like a U. She looks happy, and I look like the delinquent everyone believes I am.

I snap several photos and then return the phone. “What are you telling her?”

Willow texts Maggie quickly. “This is my friend Garrison. We’re playing Streets of Rage. Wish you were here! Visit when you can.You think that’s enough?”

“Maybe add emojis. Hearts, sparkles, pizza.”

Willow has this look like she wants to say something, but she’s mulling over her words. Thinking about them. And then finally, she says, “You know, um, if we ever fight, now I know what emojis will bring you back.” Avoiding my reaction, she slips the cellphone into her backpack.

“If we ever fought, it’d be my fault, and I’d be the one to send you pizza emojis and penguins, some turtles.” She’s smiling. “Maybe a raccoon.”

“There’s a raccoon emoji?” She braves a glance at me.

I have no idea.“I’ll make one.” I reach into my pocket for change, but Willow is already pulling out a Ziploc baggie filled with a ton of quarters.

“No,” I instantly decline. “I’m paying.”It’s a date.I haven’t announced this or anything, but in my mind, it’s sort of a date. Kind of.

It could be.

Willow hesitates but then opens the baggie. “You can’t pay.”

I shift my weight and comb back the long pieces of my dark hair. “Why not?”She doesn’t want this to be a date, you idiot.

“It’s your birthday.” She pops two quarters into the coin slots, one for player 1 and one for player 2.

I was the one who sent the Twitter message:Blaze, want to kick some ass today? Galactica Arcadia, noon-ish.

Willow replied:sure, Axel.

Now we face the game with the characters Blaze and Axel, prepared to wipe crime off a city street using crowbars and broken bottles.

I never meant this arcade outing to be a “birthday thing” but my date of birth is posted on all of my social medias. So she knows.

“Hey,” I say before we start playing, “do you want to hang out after this? Nothing birthday-related. I just figured we could do thatSupernaturalmarathon tonight, if you want to.” I keep postponing on her, and she’s too nice to bug me about it.

“Yeah,” she says instantly. “Yeah, of course. Still at your house?”

I nod. “Still at my house.” It’s weird. I’ve never shied from bringing anyone over to my family’s place, but I like keeping Willow to myself and far,faraway from my parent’s unwanted opinions.

8BACK THEN – November

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

WILLOW MOORE

Age 17

Playing video games with Garrison Abbey is like sharing one milkshake with two straws. I wear an uncontrollable smile that hurts my face. The kind of smile I’ve tried to suppress, but it’s becoming fruitless the longer we playStreets of Ragein Galactica Arcadia.

I can only remember feeling this way one other time, when I imagined Tom Hiddleston (AKA Loki, Thor’s brother and foe) running into me at Superheroes & Scones. He’s never actually been to the comic book shop, but sometimes dreams are better than reality.