Page 106 of Yes No Maybe

She gapes breathlessly like I’ve said the perfect words.Finally.This morning’s drama dissipates into nothing, like a meaningless spat from ages ago that we can’t remember, ghost memories that no longer matter.

I slide my hands to hers. “Let me back into your life. Please, I’ll do anything. Keep the sign up if you need it, but rescue me, Rowan—my love, my pen, my dick.”

She blushes again—she’s pretty in pink. “I can’t believe I said that.”

“Thatwill definitely feature in my next book.”

“Not my best moment,” she groans.

“Go out with me tonight—just you and me.”

“Yes,” falls from her lips with barely a thought. “After we take our signs down.”

“Really? Signs down?”

“Yes.”

Heat rises in my gut with the way she looks at me—her blue eyes fix on mine, deeply and wholeheartedly, like there’s magic there that no one understands but us. It’s a very good day.

I ease her into her chair, re-situate her foot, and grab her water-logged ice pack.

“Which one of your minions can we send for more ice?”

She chuckles at the way I say it and finds a willing volunteer from the students filtering in.

Some of the same faces return, which happens for every class until it’s standing-room only. I answer their questions until my voice is raspy and sign their books until my fingers cramp. And finally, I turn the questions on them, asking about reading choices.

The first period kids are quick to tell me about Julio’s grandfather’s poetry.

“He’s like… deep and wordsmithy,” Ashley sums up.

“It really makes me think how lucky I have it,” Eddie adds.

Curious, I ask Julio to share a passage, and he picks one he’s read to the others already—when Dominic Martinez first sets eyes on his family after being apart for two years. First in Spanish and then in English, Julio recites the narrative to seventy mesmerized students, and even I tear up at its conclusion.

“Is he still alive?” I ask boldly.

“Yes.”

“He should publish. Think he’d be interested in talking with my agent about getting his work out there?”

Julio’s shock changes to excitement in a blink. “Yes, I’ll call him this afternoon. Thanks, Mr. Graham.”

I don’t need thanks. Dominic Martinez has a powerful voice that needs to be heard.

When Tom first suggested this classroom visit, I didn’t like the idea at all. I thought it might be too hard, being back here. Coastal High is where Devin secured his kingship as the coolest guy in school, and I went from his nerdy, awkward brother to the angry loner who lost him. The walls could’ve felt haunted.

Rowan seems to understand this the same way she reads between the lines of my books. During her planning period, she insists on hobbling to the gym, where Devin’s picture still perches beside our regional baseball championship trophy.

“Tell me more about Devin. What was he like?”

“He was an asshole. Sometimes. He pantsed me in the eighth grade in front of the cheerleading tryouts. Embarrassed the hell out of me and made me undatable for about… two years… But most days, um, he could bring out the best in anyone. He had this annoying Andy Samberg vibe, which made him stupidly popular. He was everyone’s friend.”

“Kinda like you.”

My wry grin appears briefly. “Eh, I grew into being a good person, sort of. For Devin, it was… automatic.”

She lets me ramble on about how we wouldn’t have won without Devin’s double play in the bottom of the ninth. We detour to the library, where she pulls Devin’s senior yearbook off the shelf, prompting more stories. Not that I need much urging. Revisiting good memories feels like being in them again.

---