Page 102 of Pining for You

It’s strange to think about Izaac having fears. I take it in.

“Also, Cash, Diya, I’m sorry I wasn’t better about being there for you with your news,” I say. “I shouldn’t have made it about me. I think it was easier to be angry about being left out of the conversation, than heartbroken about how I’m going to miss you both.”

Cash doesn’t say anything but pulls me in for a hug that says it all. My blood pressure evens out.

“And hey,” he says eventually, pulling back to look at me. “I’m sorry about how things went down with Eve. I know that sucked big snowballs.”

“The biggest,” Izaac says, nodding.

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, it did.”

“But I’m sure it wasn’t about you,” Diya says. “You never know what someone’s going through.”

“I guess we’re all learning that, huh?” I say.

“Yep. And you do more for the people you love than a lot of folks, Bosley,” Izaac says, squeezing Cash’s hand. “You deserve all the love.”

“And grand gestures,” Diya says.

“And magic.” Cash winks.

Even though my heart still hurts, I know it’s grown three sizes.

“Speaking of magic, do you believe in resurrection?” Diya asks.

I wait for another nature proverb, but instead she reaches into a canvas bag she’s been carrying on her shoulder, and hands me a box that looks like it’s been hit with a glitter bomb—suspiciously the same pine-green-and-candy-apple-red glitter as is on Cash’s new boots.

“This isn’t like Cash’s little friend from the subway, boxed up and meant to be a metaphor about coming back to life or something, is it?” I ask.

“Open it!” Cash shouts, and Diya rolls her eyes.

I take the box and remove the bow, placing it on top of Diya’s head. When I get the wrapping paper off, Izaac smiles.

I grin back and open the box.

“Oh my god, you guys. What? How?”

It’s a camcorder, exactly like Naomi’s. Did they put it back together somehow? But no. That thing was totally destroyed. There’s no way.

“We went down to the old photo shop on Howe Ave right before the Bazaar. That guy had so many vintage cameras, but this one jumped out,” Diya says.

It isn’t the same model as the one I had, but it’s pretty darn close, and in excellent condition.

“I can’t believe you guys did this.”

I look at the camera. I can’t wait to get rolling. I flip it on and it’s fully charged, but it doesn’t have an SD card. Which reminds me that I still don’t have a gift for them, now that my footage is gone.

“Oh, and also…,” Diya says, reaching into her pocket. As if she read my mind, she pulls out an SD card and hands it to me. “I took all the pieces of your mom’s camera this morning. I figured I could recycle them. It was totally destroyed but somehow, this was unscathed.”

I look at the card. “Diya, are you telling me…”

“It’s your footage from yesterday. It survived. And I took the liberty of checking the storage. You should have plenty of space left on there to do some filming tonight, too.”

I cannot believe my eyes. I throw my arms around all three of them at once.

I can still create the gift I planned to give them, except it means something different now. What started as a way to reach Eve, prove to an admissions committee that I am a serious artist, and hopefully remind my friends that traditions matter, has become less about persuasion or accomplishing some goal, and more of a reflection of the reality—the adventure we just lived through together.

All that aside, I now have footage of this very special adventure, and that is a gift I could never have come up with on my own.