The Song You Play at the End of the World

The Third Journal Entry from Jaeson Andrew Kallis-Peters, Aged 17

November 6th, 0040

I turned 17 today, and Zachary gave me a present.

He came to our favorite spot beneath the buko tree. He was carrying something in a tote bag.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Shhhhh," he said. "Sandali, it's a surprise." He sat beside me, and I was instantly comforted by his warmth. By his smile.

I didn't trust that smile. It was the first prerequisite to chaos and bad ideas.

But there was something so genuine about it today. Who was I to deny him anything?

First, he pulled out a cupcake. We shared it bite by bite, trading the blue-frosted chocolate wonder that it was.

Then, he gave me fries from McDonald's.

I raised my eyebrows.

"They're cold," I point out.

He poked me. "Don't be choosy."

So, we shared those, too.

And then, finally, as I began to yawn, as the sun started to set, and Lola and Lolo were sure to call for me soon....

Zachary pulled out a beautiful pink conch shell.

My eyes widened.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I... This is all I could get you."

"It's beautiful," I say immediately.

He raised his dark, bushy eyebrows.

"It's beautiful," I repeat. "I love it."

"You... do?"

He gives it to me—our hands brush.

"Of course I do!" I smile. "Ang ganda, Zach."

He looked relieved. "Good. I had to dive for it—almost stepped on a sea urchin."

"Again with the fucking sea urchins."

He giggled again. I turned the conch shell over and over in my hand. I couldn't believe it. He got this for me.

"I'm sorry, that's all—"

"If you say sorry one more time, I'm going to hit you."

He shut up.

"I love it," I say. But what I want to say is I love you. (I don't, though. Because I don't know what Zach might say, how he might react.) "Thank you so much."

He relaxed then.

"Yeah. You're welcome, Jae." He scooted closer. He put his head on my shoulder, and I have never, in my life, felt so content. I could die at this moment. With Zachary in my arms. With a conch shell in my hand.

"Happy birthday," he whispered.

"Thank you," I said back. "Thank you."