Hello, Goodbye, and Everything in Between(43)

“So was this on the list?”

She nods. “Any guesses?”

“First time I opened a door for you?”

She shakes her head.

“First time we played footsie,” he says, nudging at her sandaled foot with his own.

“Nope.”

“First time I bought you a drink?”

“Very funny.”

“First time I… sneezed on you?”

She laughs. “Maybe.”

“First time you watched me throw up?”

“It’s possible.”

“First time I accidentally tripped you while walking behind you?”

“Wow,” she says. “I never realized what a mess you are.”

“Stop sweet-talking me,” he says, laughing, then he holds up a finger in the direction of the giant chestnut tree that forms a canopy over the other end of the deck. “I know. The first time we saw that owl with the glasses up there.”

“It wasn’t wearing glasses, you clown,” she says, shaking her head. “It just looked that way because it was so dark.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw a pair of specs,” he said. “But you believe whatever you want.”

“I always do,” she says as he flops back onto the chair.

“Okay, I give up. Just tell me.”

Clare smiles. “It was the first time we talked all night.”

“Oh, yeah,” Aidan says, sitting up again.

“Remember how we completely lost track of time?”

“And we both got in trouble for breaking curfew.”

“Yeah, but it was worth it.”

Aidan glances up at the sky. “Can you believe there was ever a time when there was so much we didn’t know about each other it filled up a whole night?”

Clare frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Just that… to spend a whole night talking with someone is kind of a big thing. There was still so much we were learning about each other then.”

“You don’t think we still have anything to learn?”

“Not like at the beginning,” he says, swiping at a bug. “Not like we did then. But that’s a good thing. You know me better than anyone in my life ever has. It’s actually kind of crazy, when you think about it.” His eyes catch hers in the dark, holding her gaze. “It’s hard to imagine anyone else ever knowing me this well.”

“But that’s the thing,” Clare says, looking away. “Somebody will. And then it’ll seem crazy to you that you once thought nobody would ever know you as well as that random girl you dated in high school.”

He smiles, a little sadly. “You’ll never just be that random girl I dated in high school, you know. No matter what, even if we never talk to each other again, you’re still part of my story now—a big part—and I’m a part of yours. There’s no changing that.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s true, what everyone’s been saying?”

Aidan gives her a questioning look.

“That our lives are only just beginning,” Clare explains. “What if one day we look back on this, and it’s just a hazy memory? What if you and me—all this—what if it’s not a big part of our story? What if it’s just the prologue?”

“Oh, come on,” Aidan says. “The prologue is the best part. Everyone knows that.”

“I guess.”

“And you and me? We must be at least up to chapter four by now. Tonight alone has to be a whole chapter.”

“You think?”

“It is for me.”

“Me too,” she says, and without thinking about it, she reaches out and takes his hand. He gives hers a little squeeze in return, and they remain there like that, sitting motionless on the edges of their chairs, their knotted hands dangling between them.

“You know why I picked Stanford?” she asks softly, and Aidan lifts his chin. “Because I knew I’d never get in.”

He furrows his brow, confused.

“If I’d tried for somewhere easier on the West Coast, I was afraid that I might choose that, too.”

Aidan’s smile is slow to emerge. “You know the most ridiculous part of this whole thing? Stanford isn’t actually anywhere near UCLA. And Harvard isn’t all that close to Dartmouth, either.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t major in geography?”

He laughs. “I’m saying we still would’ve had to drive hours to see each other. It still would’ve been a huge change. And it still would’ve been really hard.”

“I’m glad we’re both going where we want to go,” she says, letting his hand drop. “I think it’s the way it’s supposed to be, you know?”

“I know,” he says around a yawn, and Clare realizes her own eyelids are heavy, too.

“Coffee,” she says, glancing behind her at the house. “Whatever happened to the coffee?”

“Yeah, the service at this place is terrible,” Aidan jokes, rising stiffly to his feet. But when he looks over at the kitchen window, he freezes. “No way,” he says, his jaw hanging open for a second before he bursts out laughing.

“What?” Clare asks, a little sleepily. But even before she catches sight of them through the window—Scotty and Stella locked in a kiss—she realizes what it must be.