Page 203 of Lovers Like Us
I wantthat.
It aches in me. To be able to stand up and declare my love in front of millions ofpeople.
Proudly.
I turn my head and spot the line of security. All dressed in well-fitted, expensive suits. No ties. I find Farrow noproblem.
Standing between Akara and Oscar, he cups his hands in front of him, his black hair swept-back. His winged neck tattoo and inked swords on his throat visible from his button-down. His earpiece fit in, the cord runs to the mic on hiscollar.
And in a split-fucking-second, he catches me staring. I have trouble looking away. I glance at my parents, then back to him, to my parents, thenhim.
His lips gradually stretch into a smile. So slow it looks like an epic shot in amovie.
I’mgone.
Completely fucking in love withhim.
* * *
After the short ceremony ends,the garden is transformed into a sparkling after-party. Light bulbs are strung across oak posts, and wooden circular tables landscape the greenest grass. A taco bar and five different kinds of cake line the overflowing food table, but I’m not near the tacos or evensitting.
I’m on the makeshift dance floor, facing a DJ stand, and every single one of my cousins and siblings surroundsme.
Press isn’t invited, but a few drones have flown across the starry nightsky.
We jump to house music, the bass pumping, and Jane clutches her little sister’s hand. Audrey’s red hair flies as they bounce together. And I spot my littlebrother.
Xander stands still in the pit. I jump to him, and he cringes likethis sucks.I’m not fucking deterred. I clutch his shoulders and shake them to therhythm.
All my sisters and my brother can dance goddamn well. Jesus, I’ve seen him break-dance in our living room a thousand timesbefore.
His smile wants to peek. I lift his arms and clap his hands, then I let go and clapmine.
Xander continues with the beat, moreheartily.
I mess his brown hair and shout so he can hear, “Looking good,Summers!”
Xander laughs and nods to thesong.
Eliot Cobalt jumps past me in a black masquerade mask, and he sticks out his tongue. I smile, and not long after, the song switches to a Fleetwood Macplaylist.
“Meadows!” everyone howls since my family listens more to housemusic.
Sulli and I do the sprinkler dance. Jane sidles up and joins the easy motion, and then Sulli shouts, “Shopping cart!” We all change movements, and our siblings one-by-one begin the shopping cart dance withus.
Now onto the lawnmower, then the runningman.
Luna is the best. Byfar.
When the song shifts to a slower ballad, everyone belts out the words. Beckett twirls a not-very-rhythmic Sulli, and Charlie flings an arm over Jane’s shoulder, swaying to thebeat.
I think about how four months on the road brought my family together. How the five of us can dance in a close circle and not feel light-yearsapart.
I don’t know what my future holds with the state of H.M.C. Philanthropies, but Charlie, Jane, Beckett, and Sulli said they’d do anything to help save thecharity.
I thought I’d want to protest and tell themI got it handled.Maybe I will at some point, but right then, I just nodded. This time, their helping-hands don’t feel so much like failure on my part. I don’t overthink or read into the deeper meaning. I’m grateful that they love me. I love them, and it’s as simple asthat.
I think about Lao Tzu, a Chinese philosopher who said,“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives youcourage.”
