Undecided(99)

“I’m not in love with Kellan.”

“I know.”

“I—You do?”

“Yeah. A hundred and fourteen texts, remember?”

“That sounds like an awful lot. But if you don’t think it’s stalkerish or creepy, then okay.”

“You helped me study,” he says, trailing a finger around the edge of the box. “You gave me free snacks at the coffee shop. You pretended not to know about that Hustler in my pillowcase.”

“What’s Hustler?”

“You acted impressed by my magic tricks.”

“They are impressive.”

“And you helped me paint over that bathroom wall. Like the choices I made last year, the ones I regret, were okay. Because that’s what happens in college. You make mistakes. And you learn from them.”

I nod, hopeful and afraid of it.

“Some people streak down Main Street and get arrested,” Crosbie adds as an afterthought, “but those are the really messed up ones.”

“You were doing so well.”

He smiles and studies the box. “What time is it?”

I check my watch. “Eleven forty-nine.”

He sighs. “Do you want to wait eleven minutes for this so it’s really perfect timing?”

I shake my head fervently. “I don’t want to wait.”

He extends the box. “Merry Christmas, Nora.”

“Oh, what is this?”

He laughs, embarrassed, and steps on my toes, lightly. “Just open it.”

Of course I already know what it is, but still my breath catches when I lift the lid to see the dainty gold necklace inside, the tiny book charm, the careful etching on the front.

“Did you put it on?” Crosbie asks, hooking a finger under the chain and lifting it out. “When you found it?”

I shake my head, unable to speak as he fiddles to open the clasp, then carefully fastens it around my neck. The gold book dangles into the V-neck of my sweater, and we both glance down as he strokes his thumb over the letters carved on the front.

“What do you think?” he murmurs. “Did I choose right?”

I nod mutely.

“Did you?”

Finally the words do come. “There was never a choice,” I say, reaching up a hand to touch his face, the hair curled around the bottom of his ear, the tendon in his neck.

His smile widens and he dips his head to kiss me, but I push him back. “Hang on a second.”

He freezes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I jog out of the room and retrieve his gift from where I’d stashed it behind a chair in the living room. When I come back he stares at the wrapped box, about the size of a board game, and slowly accepts it. It’s dented in one corner and there’s a tear in the paper and part of it’s wet.

“What’s this?”

“Your Christmas present. I hid it in your car before everything, but then…”

He studies me, then looks back at the box, curling his finger beneath the folded edge of the paper.

“It’s not as nice as yours,” I say hastily. “And I mean, it’s kind of stupid. I know you don’t need—”

“Shut up,” he orders, pulling off the paper and letting it drop to the floor so he’s holding the box. Large, sparkly letters printed across the top spell out “Magic Kit” and beneath that in block font reads, “Lovely Assistant! Astounding Illusions! (Assistant not included.)”

“It’s, um… It’s all tricks that require an assistant,” I say, suddenly more awkward than ever. “I thought until you got more comfortable on stage, if you wanted, I could…assist…you. Or…whatever.” I trail off as he just stares at the box, turning it over to scan the contents listed on the back. It’s from a weird little store in Gatsby and the guy at the counter swore it would be well-received. He’d also tried to sell me what amounted to little more than a bathing suit and a pair of fishnets as my “assistant outfit,” but I’d declined.

“Thank you,” he says finally, lifting his head. I’m taken aback by the force of the emotion in his eyes, the sincerity, the intensity. He’d given me a gold necklace and I’d given him a magic kit and he’s reacting as though that’s anywhere near the same thing.

Still, all I say is, “You’re welcome.”

He sets the box on the mattress behind me and fingers the book charm again, looking at me. “You still want to be my assistant?”

“If you still want me.”

“These will be the only secrets you can keep.”

“I promise.”

“You’ve got to take them to your grave.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“All right, Nora. You’re hired.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Fantastic.”

“And…” He looks at me seriously and tugs on the necklace. “I love you. In case you can’t read.”

“Will you build my desk now?”

“Nora. I swear to—”

I press onto my tiptoes so I can kiss him. “I love you, Crosbie. Only you. I’ve never said that to anyone before, I promise.” Then I tell him something he hasn’t heard a lot, something he deserves to hear every day. “You’re the first.”