Page 98 of Never Your Valentine

I put down my weapons. I signal Felix to turn off the music. The silence lands like a slap, making my ears ring. For a moment, the only sound is my own panting. My neck and back are coated in sweat. I tear off my gloves and remove my helmet, dropping them both on the floor.

More people crowd in behind my parents and siblings. Dylan’s here. Lia and Sophie too. Dove Jackson has come over from the bakery. She’s gripping Roy’s hand. Michelle’s here from the thrift store. Nick Goudreau. Fred Garcia. There are people here I haven’t seen in years. Old classmates. Friends.

I crane my neck to see into the booth. Felix is up there, along with my cousins Callie and Hugo. So is Oscar Point and three or four other people. I blink. Is that Stenhower? What’s the mayor doing here? What the hell is happening?

I take a step. Glass crunches underfoot. This is what’s happening. I am.

“You all came to gawk?” My breath is wheezy. “Is there nothing else to do in Echo Creek, that you’ll stand around watching me lose my shit?”

Blake scoffs. “There are plenty of better things to do than this.”

“Then why are you here?”

My Dad shifts the box in his arms. “Because you were in there for two hours.”

I put my hands on my knees, still trying to catch my breath. Two hours? No wonder I feel like I’ve been beaten to hell and back.

I straighten. Lia is standing in front of me. “I came over to tell you to turn down the music,” she says. “When I saw what you were doing, I called Sophie.”

“I called Michelle and Dove,” Sophie says.

“Felix called the rest of us,” my mom says.

Blake claps my shoulder. “We were worried about you.”

“Scared to death, more like,” my mom says.

“I’m fine,” I say. I’m not. I’m exhausted down to my bones. I’m woozy with it. I need a shower. I need a nap. I don’t even have the energy to be irritated that I’m the star of the dumbest show ever. I can’t find a whisper of anger.

That’s not all that’s missing. The deep well of shame that I kept buried is also gone.

My mom hands me a bottle of water. I stare at it a moment, not sure what to do with it. Drink it? Yes, that’s what you do with water. I take a gulp. It feels like a miracle. Like a blessing.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asks.

I nod and drink more water, standing in a mess of broken pieces among people I’ve known my whole life. They’re here to help in any way they can. This is Echo Creek. This is what we do. When someone needs something, the town shows up.

It almost breaks me all over again. Everyone is here because everyone cares. My family especially—my parents, siblings, cousins. But also my friends. This is Nick Goudreau parking his dogsled and answering the call. This is Michelle and Oscar putting the “closed” sign on their stores. This is my parents leaving their classrooms to be here.

Everyone’s crowded into a smelly rage room on a random Tuesday in March because I need them, so they’re here.

And if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

I can feel it shining from them, flowing over me, in a way I don’t know if I deserve, but I’m willing to accept.

That’s the ugly truth. I said I don’t believe in love, but it’s worse than that. I thought I wasn’t worthy of it. But I’ll never say that again. This proves it. I know it.

Love is real.

Things get a little blurry at the edges of my vision. “I need to sit down for a minute,” I say.

“Ope, we’ve got you.” My dad grabs my arm. Blake’s on the other side. Everyone backs out the door and they move me to the maker space, where I collapse in a chair. I’m still holding the water bottle. I gulp down the rest of it.

“We’ll take it from here,” my mom says to the crowd.

Oscar and Dove leave first. They have businesses to run. Michelle pauses with a hand on my mother’s arm. “Take care of him,” she stage-whispers. Lia makes sure my parents have her number. Hugo asks Felix to keep him updated. Callie briefly pats my shoulder before disappearing with the rest.

I don’t know why they’re so worried. I don’t need taking care of. I’m fine. I’m more than fine, because I have a plan.