Page 85 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

It’s not like he’s down on one knee.

“I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“There are a few things I’d change.”

Connor, he means. The one constant between us. But I don’t want to talk about Connor right now. I want to forget he even exists. I want it to be me and Oliver against this encroaching night.

I lean against him. It feels nice to stand like this and not talk. To watch the sunset like a normal couple would on a romantic vacation in Italy. The way it would’ve been between us if I hadn’t gotten scared and we’d never been apart.

“Do you think that guy’s having a heart attack?” Oliver says, pointing to the man I was watching earlier.

“He’ll be all right. And if not, you’re always here to save him.”

“I’m not a hero, El.”

I put my hand on his. He doesn’t pull back. He doesn’t pull back. “You saved me yesterday.”

“Anyone would’ve done that.”

“But you’re the one that did.”

He stares at me like he’s trying to puzzle out the code we’re speaking. We always used to know what the other meant; there wasn’t any need for interpretation.

“You don’t need me,” he says eventually.

Tears sting my eyes. “I do. It’s been terrible without you.”

“Terrible, huh?”

He twines his fingers through mine. His touch feels overwhelming—warm and familiar, but somehow new.

“Oliver, I—”

“Sun’s almost set,” he says.

“On us?”

“It’s not a metaphor. Look.”

I turn toward the water and watch as the last of the sun drops below the horizon. And then, like it was coordinated, an enormous BOOM! sounds over our heads and the sky fills with a shatter of colorful stars.

“Fireworks?” I say. “Did you do this?”

“I wish… I guess it’s for the Fourth, after all.”

There’s another explosion, and the other guests start to gather around us, pushing up against the railing to watch the fireworks splinter over the water.

“They do it every year,” someone says near me, and I’m not sure who it is. I’m still holding on to Oliver, but it feels like he’s being pulled away from me by the crowd.

The explosions come like rapid fire: Boom! Boom! Boom!

The crowd surges forward, and Oliver’s hand slips through my fingers.

I look for him, but now I’m being pushed toward the top of the stairs as the crowd multiplies. We’re all here: Harper and Shek. Allison and Emily. Oliver and Guy. Connor and Isabella. Everyone’s in twos but me, and the crowd is still pushing against my back.

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