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“You… had the pizza at Hilltop Bowl?” Savannah asks, brows drawing together in an expression of concern.
“No. But I know you did.” With that, I meet her gaze, unblinking, and I bring up my right index finger to tap my nose once, twice. Her face flushes, and it immediately becomes clear she knows what I’m talking about.
Neil catches on. “I’m Jewish too.” His hand drifts to my
back. “And this might sound odd to you, but that money’s actually going to make a big difference for me.”
I really, really like him.
“That’s—great,” Savannah manages, and she steps backward until she disappears into the crowd.
Kirby and Mara wind up on one side of us, sharing a gigantic sugary pretzel, and Neil’s friends on the other. They seem about as surprised by our romantic development as Kirby as Mara—which is to say, not at all.
“What are you gonna do with the money?” Adrian asks. “And don’t tell me something responsible like putting it in savings. You have to have a little fun.”
Neil glances at me, and I become putty. “Oh, we will. And I already have some ideas.”
McNasty, Kirby mouths to me.
“What was that?” Neil asks.
“Kirby’s being inappropriate.”
“Did you think that would make me less curious?”
“Oh, we’re going to have fun this summer,” Kirby says.
Mara, though, is a bit of a sore loser. “I only had two more clues left,” she laments, half joking.
Still, the three of us and sometimes the seven of us take selfies and make plans to go to the Capitol Hill Block Party in a couple weeks. I don’t know if we’re going to be okay in college. But we have the summer, and after that, we’ll try our best. I can be content with that for now.
A squawk of feedback drags our attention to the stage.
“Good morning, Westview!” shouts the neon-haired lead singer, earning a whoop from the audience. “We’re so glad you stayed up all night for us. This first song is called ‘Stray,’ and if we don’t see you dancing, we’re packing up and leaving.”
They’re pretty fantastic live, like Neil said. He brushes back my hair to plant a kiss below my ear, and as I’m wondering whether he knows exactly how sensitive I am there, he gives me this wicked grin that proves he does.
I didn’t know it could feel this way.
When the band takes a break, Neil and I wander through the crowd, accepting congratulations and playing a few games, though after about ten minutes, we’re a little gamed out. My knee is starting to ache, and I’m not sure I can stand for much longer.
“I’m trying to think of a clever way to say this, but… do you want to get out of here?” I ask him.
“I do,” he says, “and I actually have somewhere in mind, if you’re up for one more adventure.”
I give him an emphatic yes before following him through the crush of our almost-former classmates. There will be more parties over the next week. I’m sure of it. But there is so much out there beyond high school, so much that I cannot possibly begin to wrap my mind around. I’m trying my best to keep it that way. This summer, I will say plenty of goodbyes—to my friends, to my parents, to the gum wall and the Fremont Troll and cinnamon rolls as big as my face. They won’t be forever goodbyes. I’ll be back, Seattle. I promise.
So when we get outside, I take one last look at the school. Later, Neil and I will talk about what this means, about what we’ve done tonight and what happens tomorrow. But right now I want to savor this moment with him, both the quiet and the way he looks at me like he’s counting the seconds until we can kiss like we did in the museum.
Maybe this is how I’m supposed to say goodbye to high school: not with an arbitrary list or a preconceived notion of the way things are supposed to be, but by realizing we’re actually better together.
Neil squeezes my hand. “Ready?” he asks.
“I think I am.”
Then I take a deep breath… and I let it all go.
THE TOP 5 FREE PUPPIES! SONGS, ACCORDING TO NEIL MCNAIR
