“Wait,” Adrian gasps out, putting a hand on Ginny’s shoulder. She jumps visibly at the touch, turning back with wide eyes. “Wait.”
Everyone waits. Everyone watches as Adrian straightens, heaving deep breaths. His cheeks are pink, his hair tousled, a faint beading of sweat on his forehead.
“Gin,” Heather says slowly, “is that who I think it is?”
“Yes,” Ginny says. She’s shaking now. She wishes she could fold herself up into her suitcase and zip the whole thing closed. “Yes, it is.”
They watch as Adrian draws himself up to his full height. He rolls his shoulders back but doesn’t puff his chest out. Instead, he stands neutrally, almost limply. He looks down, then back up, eyelashes fluttering the way they always do. Ginny feels all the breath leave her body.
She says, “Adrian—”
“I love you.”
He says the words so quickly they blend together.
“You—” Ginny’s voice sticks in her throat. “You what?”
“I love you, Ginny.” His arms dangle at his sides. “I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out. And I’m not—I’m not really one for giving speeches—”
From behind, Tristan snorts. Clay stomps on his foot.
“But I just—I had to tell you. I’m sorry, Ginny. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was afraid. Fuck, I’mstillafraid. I’ve never been in a real relationship before, and this, all this”—he gestures between them—“it terrifies me. I’m fucking terrified. I don’t let myself get close to people. Not close enough that it would hurt if they left. But with you—with you, it’s already too late. And I’m terrified that, if we get together, things will blow up, because I have no fucking clue what I’ll do without you.”
Ginny can hardly breathe. Adrian never once looks at the people surrounding them. He speaks only to her.
“Back in Hungary, you told me that it was absurd to think that I needed to know before it began that our relationship wouldn’t end. That no human has ever made any decision about which they have absolutely zero doubts. And you know what? You were right. I had doubts about Harvard. I had doubts about Disney. I even had doubts about what I should eat for breakfast this morning. They were tiny doubts, almost insignificant, but they were there. They’re always there. Because it’s human to worry, right? To ask,what if? To question every decision you make.” He takes a breath. “So. Yes. It’s absurd to think that you need to be able to tell the future of a relationship before you jump in. But, Ginny.” He steps forward once again. He reaches down and takes one of her hands. “None of that matters because, right now, Icansee the future. I’m so in love with you, Ginny Murphy. And I know with a hundred percent certainty that if I have to spend another minute away from you, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
She opens her mouth. Closes it again. Shakes her head, eyes darting about the street. “But I don’t—I don’t understand.” She shakes her head again. “How can you love menow? After I’ve gained all this weight? After my arms have grown and my thighs have grown and my face has grown and...” Her breath comes fast now, little gasps for air. “How can you love me when I’ve gotten so—sougly?”
For a moment, silence falls between them. Ginny’s chest rises and falls. Her cheeks are pink, her hair knotted back in a low bun. Adrian looks at her, at the sad tilt of her eyes, the hunched shape of her back.
“Ginny.” He moves his hands up to hold her arms. “Whatever you are feeling about yourself right now, I can promise you—it isn’t real. It isn’t what the rest of the world sees. Because, to me— Jesus Christ. Right now, you’re so beautiful it’s hard for me to even look at you.”
Ginny laughs, a choking sound that rattles her stomach. She wants to hug him, to press her body to his and feel the familiar ridges of his torso.
Instead, she looks down at her suitcase and lays a hand atop it. “Adrian.” She squeezes the handle. “I’m—I’m leaving. I’m going home. Not forever, but—”
“I know. I know.” He nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’m coming with you.”
“You’re—” She blinks. “What?”
“I bought a plane ticket. On the cab ride over.” He raises the phone and shows her the screen, which displays a ticket from JFK to Detroit. “I already asked my boss, and he gave me the okay to work remotely for a few weeks. I want to be there for you during your recovery. I want to be there foreverything—the good stuff, the bad. Unless”—his eyes withdraw—“unless you don’t want me to.”
Ginny stares at the plane ticket, mouth ajar. No one—not the boys, not her sister—says a word. The pause stretches long and thick between them, between all the bodies crowded together on the sidewalk. Out on Sullivan Street, a food supply truck rumbles past, exhaling a cloud of exhaust over the block.
And then, without warning, Ginny starts to laugh.
Adrian’s eyebrows bunch. He lowers his phone. “Is that—is that a no?”
“No, you idiot.” Tears start to gather at the corners of Ginny’s eyes. She’s still laughing. “It’s a yes. Of course it’s a yes. I want you to come home with me. I want you to come everywhere with me.”
A small smile tugs at his mouth. “Yeah?”
She smiles back. “Yeah.”
“Well?” Heather calls from behind Ginny. “Kiss him, then.”
Ginny takes the last step toward Adrian, throwing her arms over his shoulders and jumping up into his arms. He catches her under her legs. She leans down and presses her lips to his. Just a few feet away, the boys cheer. Heather puts two fingers into her mouth and lets out a wolf whistle. Drivers lay on their horns. Strangers across Sullivan Street start to clap. Half the block has no idea what’s going on, but everyone seems happy about it anyway.
And just beside the curb, Ginny and Adrian hold each other close. Ginny knots her fingers in his hair. Adrian smiles against her teeth. He spins her around just once, then lowers her carefully back to the pavement.
They pull apart but don’t let go of each other. Ginny ducks her head into his chest and squeezes her arms around him.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I will always love you,” he says, loud enough for everyone to hear.
