‘Okay.’ Still confused, she brushes her blond hair back. ‘And what helps against his refusal to face reality?’
I grin broadly. ‘He has to see the future he could have with his own eyes.’ Just like I did with my orchid. ‘He has to see what he can’t imagine through words alone.’
‘And that means that…’
‘That I really have to go now,’ I say and pull June into my arms. ‘Thank you, you’re the best diagnostician in the world.’
‘Well, actually you yourself…’ She breaks off mid-sentence and waves it away. ‘Whatever.’ She looks at me fondly. ‘Whatever you’re planning, you can do it.’
I have to, and I will. Because no matter how high the risk is that it won’t work, there’s also a chance that I’ll save Jaden withit. And no matter how small that chance may be, I know one thing for sure: it’s real.
Chapter Forty-Six
JADEN
With Lilly’s taped-together bucket list in my hand, I’m standing in front of my parents’ house and looking across the street. I have no idea if Brian still lives here, but I at least want to try, so I cross the street. Someone is moving behind the garden fence. I stretch up and make out a man with blond hair and glasses.
He’s older than I remember, but it’s him.
Brian.
My breath catches for a moment, and I lower my gaze to the sheet of paper in my hand. Now that I know there’s something written under item seven, I can make out the words without any trouble.
8. Tell Brian that you love him.
All night long, that wish has stayed with me. I’ve searched for signs I missed, for memories that might now appear in a new light, and I’ve found them: Lilly and Brian riding their bikes down the street together as kids, hand in hand. The way they put their heads together and plotted pranks. The way they secretlyslipped each other notes and giggled furtively. But that was only the beginning of everything I couldn’t see back then.
‘I don’t want ice cream,’ my little sister yells at her. ‘I want Milo.’
For a split second, Mom stiffens, then she turns to me. ‘And what about you? You want ice cream, don’t you?’
The difference between Lilly and me is that I’ve already learned how things work with Mom, and that it’s easier to go along. ‘Sure, I’ll take one,’ I say, then I lean toward Lilly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll bring one for you, Camee. For later, if you want.’
She swallows hard and bolts up from the bed. ‘I want to see Brian.’
‘Fine, then we’ll just go by ourselves, right, Jaden?’ Mom throws me a forcedly cheerful look. ‘Put on a clean shirt real quick, honey, then we can head out.’
Camee squeezes past me into the hallway. I stomp into my room, trying not to think about Milo any longer, not to be sad because he’s gone. Once there, I pull a clean shirt out of the closet and as I slip it on, I see Camee outside the window, crossing the street.
Her steps are heavy, just like her shoulders. She keeps her head lowered, even as she rings the doorbell.
Brian opens the door, briefly knits his brows, then gives her a gentle smile. I can’t hear what he says, but I see Lilly’s upper body suddenly start to shake.
She falls into his arms, practically fleeing into his nearness as if he were her anchor. He rocks her back and forth, and I picture him whispering exactly the comforting words in her ear that I couldn’t find earlier.
I imagine how she feels—dejected, but also safe, understood, seen—and I feel a wild mix of relief and longing crawl up inside me.
I quickly shake it out of my head and force my thoughts to where they’re better off. I’ll order hazelnut ice cream. And vanilla. With chocolate sauce.
There were moments like that over and over again. Situations that, in hindsight, make it seem as if Lilly could only keep breathing at all thanks to Brian.
I was her big brother, but Brian was her refuge. I took it for a childhood friendship, nothing more, and yet it was so much more than that. At least for my sister, who apparently kept those feelings to herself for years.
‘Jaden?’ Without my noticing, Brian has stepped up to the fence. ‘Is that you? Wow, it must have been ages.’
I raise my hand. ‘Twelve, maybe thirteen years?’
‘Wow. How are you?’ He waves me over into the garden. ‘And how’s Lilly?’
