𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 | 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞

¹⁷ | Epilogue

ᴍᴀᴇᴠᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 of Sophomore year, the sky is free of clouds and the air is light. Minnesota is green and alive. From the second-floor window of my bedroom, I hear the sound of an engine rumble and pull up to the house. I throw my backpack over my shoulder, excitement peppering my bones. I bounce down the front steps, tugging the passenger's side door open and taking my rightful place up front.

"What the hell is that? What are you doing?" he questions, laughing hysterically as he looks at me.

"It's my helmet," I answer, my voice muffled behind the glass of the hockey face shield. "You're crazy if you think I'm letting you drive me without some form of protection."

Guy turned sixteen over the summer. For his birthday, he got a car--more importantly, his Dad's old car. This is the first time he's driven me, ever. I spent the summer backpacking across Europe with my Mom. It was the best experience of my life. She was young and free again, for the first time in a long time. Neither of us are tied to Thomas, my Father, anymore. We spent those three months rebuilding the relationship we destroyed. She was my only real family now, and I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly. There was a time in my life when I never thought I would say this, but, Felicity Williams is my best friend.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Not even a little bit."

Guy shakes his head and grins, putting the car in reverse to pull out of my driveway. "I hate you."

He didn't mean it, though, and we both knew it. I take the helmet off. It was never strapped in the first place.

"I love you, too."

He takes my hand closest to him and holds it, leaving only one of his on the wheel. It's hot. I like having a boyfriend with a license. He kisses the top of it, never taking his eyes off the road. "How are you doing? You know, without Adam?"

Adam Banks really did end up transferring to that boarding school on the East Coast. The top hockey school in the country--exactly what he deserves. He left two weeks ago, and not a day has passed that he hasn't called me.

I blow out a loud breath. "It's hard. Weird. I'm still not used to it. I've gone to knock on his window at least four times already--just forgetting he's not home. I miss him a lot. But, I'm really happy for him. This is what he needed--deserved--a real opportunity to become someone great. I think he's gonna be treated a lot better. He'll be happier."

Before I left for the trip with Mom, Adam told me I could tell Guy everything--about him and Charlie. Guy said he had a hunch, but never knew how bad it had gotten. Adam also made me promise that I wouldn't hold a grudge against Charlie. He was having a hard time, too. Adam is a much more forgiving person than I am, but I'm trying to work on that.

"I'm glad you're looking towards the bright side," Guy comments. "You're a really good best friend to him."

"He's a really good best friend to me, too."

Guy smiles. He flashes his blinker on as we turn down another street.

"You're a good driver," I tell him.

"My brother taught me," he says.

I squeeze his hand. "I'm happy you guys are getting along again."

"Well," Guy shrugs. "I had some help."

When we get to the intersection just before the school's street, Guy turns down the wrong one. When I bring it up, he smiles. "We're just gonna see some people really fast first."

I nod and look out the window. Everything that passes is just grass upon grass. The sun is shining and warm. It takes me a few more minutes before I realize where we are: Wakefield Cemetery. We get out of his car and Guy takes my hand into his as we walk down the cobblestone path. He's holding a bouquet of flowers in his other. We stop in front of a tombstone and he splits the flowers into two sections. I kiss his shoulder and grip his hand a little tighter. He places the flowers down onto the engraved name.

"Happy birthday, Dad," Guy whispers, tears pooling in his eyes. "I really miss you."

I rest my other hand against his arm until he's ready to move on. We walk for a few more minutes in silence until we position ourselves in front of the second headstone. This time, I set down the flowers.

"Hey, Jesse," I say.

I haven't been here in a long time. Jesse's grave has his number and name carved into the marble. It was created beautifully. Just for him.

"It doesn't hurt any less," Guy states. "But it doesn't hurt any more, either."

The three-year mark was in mid-August. I wish I could have been there. But I was making memories I'll get to tell him forever. I wipe a tear from my cheek. Jesse Hall, the greatest person I've ever known. The lover and fighter.

"Keep flying up there, Buddy."

After a little while, we slowly walk away. 6 years it took--to get here--to this happiness and peace. I look up at the sky, observing its blinding blue. It took war and thousands of miles and the hardest goodbyes of my life to finally be with Guy Germaine. The love of my life.

The car just comes back into our sight when Guy stops walking. He looks at me, forever warmth in his eyes, and smiles a sweet smile that feels like coming home. "I'll race you to the car."

I tilt my head to the side and squint the sun out of my eyes. "Oh yeah? What kind of prize do I get when I win?"

"When I win," he says. "I get to kiss you."

"And when that doesn't happen?"

"I guess you get to kiss me."

The corners of my mouth tug into a grin. "You are so on, Germaine."

As he counts down from three, I prepare for take-off--but can't suppress a laugh, still. I know that no matter who gets there first, we will always end in the same place, together. No matter who finishes first, I still win. Because, here I am, in the darkness of it all, so crazily in love with the first boy I ever kissed--ever loved. The boy who throws seaweed and snow.

I win because I beat the odds of it all already. I win because I have Guy. My Guy.