Page 41 of Born in the Spring

“I’m just trying to figure out if there’s something to fight for.” I admit out loud what my mind has been doing to me, the pauses now in my words as I resume shelving faster. Because in the thick of that,I don’t want anything to change between usand that damnit’s okayhave been fighting the most.

It’s okay for me to be openly in love with her? Because that’sreallyus.

And asking myself why that’s okay has given me another question. Why did she never tell me to stop?

A look passes between my friends, and Court stuffs a chunkof my mom’s almond toffee she set out today into his mouth, leaving Robin to be the one to say, “If you need an outside perspective, we think there is.”

My eyes lock on Robin as some people walk into the shop, but they stay in my side vision, nothing tearing me away from what she just told me.

“I’ll get them,” Court offers around his mouthful, heading over to help as my heart jumps in my chest, Robin’s words like more confirmation I’m fighting letting in. Because coming from her, they mean almost as much as if they came from Elara herself.

“You do?” I prod her, my insides an earthquake as I wait for more, as neither she nor Court are bringing me to solid ground now.

I’m hanging on every second that passes as she slows her shuffling, until she tells me again with a soft nod. Then, with a sigh, she stuffs the postcards into a pocket of her overalls.

“Don’t forget—”

“I already owe your mom a couple bucks from the last ones I lost,” she cuts off my blurt, stepping up to the cart. “I’m not forgetting.” She pats her pocket, her mouth forming a silent reminder to herself, because she’d still lose them even if they’re attached to her.

She occupies her hands now with mine, her fingers steady on and relaxing my grip around the sides of the box, and I ache with the small release, my body tensed. If Robin’s wordswerecoming from Elara herself, I’d probably be hyperventilating.

“You don’t have to feel so unsure about your life,” she assures me, the pressure in her tone light until she adds more, with a squeeze of my hands before she drops hers and fills them with items inside the box. “Coming from those of us whoactually have unsure lives.”

I’m shaking my head before she’s even finished with her double criticism. “There’s nothing unsure about your life, either.”

She scrunches her face and points at me. “You just agreed with me.”

I’m nodding my defeat, smiling like I usually do when she declares some victory, instead of arguing the truth. Robin’s telling me good things, and things she hasn’t told me before, and I didn’t realize until now how much I needed to hear this from people I can trust, who know me, who know me and Elara.

“You just had things against you. You and her,” she says low, and I’m hit with the main one—my age—as a coaster hits my palm, drawing my drifted thoughts and stare back to Robin, who’s now holding up another item to hand off. “This is your job.”

This is technically her job; my job is wherever I’m needed, which is now in here, so I just shelve the coaster with a chuckle as she fills my other palm. And I let us continue this way as her enjoyment increases for slapping what’s not breakable or bendable into my hands. I figure it’s therapeutic.

“Shepherd would expect you to.”

And that’s where I lose my grip, my thoughts twisting around a wound inside me, calling up the creeping one I’ve been avoiding, and I scoff as I grab more items, without waiting for Robin. “Expect me to keep following in his footsteps.”

That’s the other part of what my mind has been trying to do to me. Remind me that I’m second best. Here when my brother’s not. Jasper—by default.

But I know better when it comes to Elara. That may be my entire life’s truth, but that was never my truth with her. She didn’t plant or nurture that feeling, but once doubt grows inside you, you’ll still always question yourself.

And that’s why I’ve been quietly praying for her to choose me on her own, like she chose to come back on her own. Why I’ve been searching to see if somewhere along the way, she did.

“He would expect you to follow your heart,” Court says as he rejoins us, with more toffee in his mouth. “Because that’s what you do.”

My eyes fall to Robin and she looks down at my filled hands hovering over the box, taking the items from me with swift grabs my slowed reflexes couldn’t beat, and shelves them.

She wasn’t an exception to everyone knowing my love for Elara. She knew and she dated me. I knew and I dated her.

“When you can,” Court adds low, and he doesn’t say his next words, but I see them in the apology in his stare.Now you can.

Silence fills our circle, the smell of toffee surrounding Court suddenly strong and sick in my gut, as if I’ve been the one stuffing my mouth full.

“And her heart?” I ask to steer us back, and after a deep inhale to ease me.

“Find out,” Court says, as if I haven’t been looking for pieces that could belong to me. Then he pats my arm. “Come on, man. You know what you mean to her.”

A laugh blows through my nose from a wave of nerves, and at myself. Listening to my friends convince me Elara could love me too. Validating my thought that if anyone should be putting moves on her, it should beme. When the only one who can really convince me of that isElara.

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