Page 70 of My Star-Crossed Summer

“Making people feel like they belong is one of her superpowers,” I say. “And she doesn’t even realize it.”

Roxy gives me a tiny smile—one that says she sees everything.

As if summoned, Victoria comes over to us, pushing her hair behind her ears. She’s practically glowing, with her cheeks flushed and her pink hair wild from all the movement and the humidity. She grins and that tug is back, low in my belly and impossible to ignore.

“Y’all have a sneaky vibe,” she says, a bit out of breath. “What are you whispering about over here?”

“Your killer dance moves,” Roxy says with a wink.

Victoria gives her a teasing eye-roll. “Yeah, okay. I’m a little out of practice.” She does the cutest little shimmy and says, “The tweens are teaching me to be cool again. What else you got?”

“How you put everyone at ease,” I say. “Make them feel seen. Make them feel like they belong.”

She turns to me then, her lips parted in surprise.

“Noah was just telling me what a huge asset you’ve been,” Roxy tells her. “I mean, obviously, I knew that would be the case, but I like to be proven right. And then hear about it in great detail.”

“These kids would be missing out if she weren’t here,” I say, and my chest tightens at the thought. Because I’d be missing out even more. “She makes everyone here feel like they matter.”

Victoria blinks at me, her eyes glassy. A blush creeps into her cheeks and she turns to Roxy. “It’s been really fun. These kids have taught me a few things, too.”

“None of that is one bit surprising,” Roxy says. “I knew you’d be a good fit here.” She glances toward the main entrance and waves to Julie and Mira, who are smiling as they survey the room. “I should get back to these ladies, but we’ll catch up later, okay?” She squeezes Vic’s arm and heads over toward the others.

When I turn back to Victoria, she gives me a tiny smile. “I can’t believe you said that about me.”

I shrug. “It’s true. You make every place brighter just by being in it. I’ll tell you every day if that’s what it takes for you to believe it.”

Her lips part and that adorable furrow is back in her brow. She looks like she might cry, and it takes everything in me not to pull her into a hug. “Come on,” I tell her, giving her arm a nudge. “Next dance is the electric slide.”

She follows me back to where the kids are gathered and says, “Okay, Valentine. Time to shake those tail feathers.” A sweet smile pulls at her lips and I want to etch this moment into my memory: Victoria, under this blanket of colored stars, looking at me like I’m the best thing that ever happened to her.

You and me together in this crazy little world, she used to say. And I want to badly for that to be true again.

Chapter Twenty-Two

VICTORIA

Long after the dance is over, I’m still thinking about Noah dancing under the twinkling lights in his perfectly tailored suit, his hair wild and his eyes bright. I might never forget that crooked smile that spread across his face as he went all in, doing his enthusiastic version of the Carlton dance that will be ingrained in my memory forever.

And what he said to Roxy about me? I’ll never forget that, either.

I’ve nearly drifted off to sleep when there’s a knock on my door—an urgenttap-tap-tap-tap.It takes me a minute to understand that is not the tapping of Noah’s shoes on the linoleum as he does the cabbage patch, but knuckles pounding against my door. By the time I stumble out of bed, the knock has grown louder and a tiny voice is calling my name.

I open the door to find Layla standing in the hallway, her eyes wide. “It’s Priya,” she says. “She’s having an allergic reaction or something, and she needs help.”

We hurry down the hallway as a couple of doors open, the girls’ heads poking out.

Inside Layla’s room, Priya is slouched on her bed, her back against the wall and her feet straight out in front of her. She looks like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Her face is drawn, her lips tight. Becca from across the hall is sitting next to her, holding her hand. When I rush to her side, her eyes flutter open.

“Victoria,” she says. My name comes out like a gasp. She has tears in her eyes, and my heart is pounding like a jackhammer.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “What happened?”

There are three other girls in the room—two more than there should be—staring at us with wide eyes. One of them looks close to tears. Layla’s bed is pushed against Priya’s, piled with pillows. A laptop sits open to a movie and next to it there’s a scattering of candy wrappers and partially-eaten snacks.

“Becca,” I say, snapping back into action. “Go get Sophie and tell her to bring me the first-aid kit.” She nods and hurries out of the room.

When I turn back to Priya, her brows pinch together as she says, “I must have eaten something I wasn’t supposed to.” Her lips are swollen, and there are small red splotches on her neck and arms. I quickly catalog every snack we put out during the dance. We knew about Priya’s peanut allergy and have been very careful about food we brought onto the site. The kitchen staff knew about it, too.

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