Page 62 of Something About September

“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Sabrina said after she had read it. She put down the letter and reached for a tissue. “But maybe you should have shown me this before you did my makeup.”

“We can do a touch-up,” Rebecca said, moving closer to her friend.

“Go meet your life. That’s so beautiful. We’re doing that, together, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

“Now we’re really stuck together.”

“Forever and ever,” Rebecca agreed. “Becky and Beans. Bound together like the glue you stuck up your nose on the first day we met in kindergarten.”

Sabrina laughed. “Come on, I had started kindergarten a year early because my parents said I was too smart to be at home. You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

“Probably not.” They embraced, and then Sabrina checked her watch.

“We’d better get going,” she said. “The dance is starting soon, and there’s no such thing as fashionably late in Bramley Hollow.”

When they arrived back in the center of town, the square had been transformed one last time. Music swelled, filled the air: fiddle, guitar, the low thump of drums. All cables were coiled, all pumpkin scales were rolled away. There was a dance floor now, made from a wooden platform. Fairy lights crisscrossed above, making the dance floor a patchwork of shadow and sparkle.

Sabrina and Rebecca got some punch from a table near the dance floor and Sabrina sipped it and sputtered. “It’s especially strong this year. Apparently, Ms. Abrams has some friend named Bebe in New York State she gets the recipe from. I wonder if Mr. Patel will take off his shirt again, like he did at the last gala, dance with his tie around his head, Teen Wolf–style.”

Now Rebecca nearly spit out her own drink. “Come on, really?”

“You missed a lot last year,” Sabrina said solemnly.

“I swear, I’ll never miss another Autumn Festival.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sabrina said. She put down her cup, then took Rebecca’s out of her hand. “You don’t want to drink this. I’ll get us some apple wine later. I think someone wants to dance with you. And as your best friend, I am compelled to tell you: You should not wait one more moment longer.”

Cort. He was moving toward her across the string-lit dance floor, wearing a dark-gray suit and a soft-gray dress shirt, no tie. He looked more handsome than she had ever seen him. Sabrina sighed before fading away, murmuring, “Damn, that Cort Adams Effect is real,” as she left.

“I was looking for you,” Cort said when he was close. His expression was shy, a little uncertain. “I was worried maybe you’d changed your mind.”

“I was looking for you, too,” she answered, and it felt like she didn’t just mean the moment they were in. They stepped together, the way they always had in the versions of this moment that never quite happened in the past or in her dreams. His hand found the small of her back; hers found his shoulder; the music carried them out onto the dance floor, a slow song.

“This probably goes without saying, but I can’t let it: You look absolutely gorgeous.”

She felt herself blush at the compliment as they swayed slowly to the music, and he looked down at her like it was impossible for him to look away.

“I thought I’d stop being scared, after you said you were staying,” he said. “But my heart is still racing like crazy. How bad I want this, how bad I’ve always wanted it—that’s still scary to me. And I messed it up. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head. “We both let our fear get in the way,” she said. “This feels…” She trailed off. “Almost too big. Bigger than that prizewinning pumpkin of yours.”

He chuckled softly. “It does, I agree. But I think I can handle it. How about you?”

She breathed him in, the cedar soap smell of him, the way he smelled exactly like all the best things about September.

And all the while her mother’s words glowed steady inside her: Go meet your life.

He pulled her closer and she didn’t resist, tilted her head up toward him. The smile that broke across Cort’s face like an autumn dawn made her knees go weak, and she was grateful for his body to lean against.

A long breath left him, like he’d been holding it for years. “It feels so good to have you in my arms again,” he said. “And I want to kiss you so badly.” He hesitated.

“Are you still scared?”

He laughed softly. “It’s not that.” His lips brushed her ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver through her. “If I kiss you right now,” he said quietly, his hands coming up to frame her face, “in front of this whole town…there will be no going back.”

Rebecca smiled. “I don’t want to go back. I just want to go forward. With you.”