Page 118 of Lost Boy
I hug her to my side, sticking her right under my armpit like she hates but just fits so well. “It’s amazing, Georgie. Thank you.”
“Aye! Ye best not put me in yer stinky pit, lad. I know where ye sleep, what ye eat. Everything.”
I chuckle, releasing her from my heavy arm and straightening the dot on the question mark. It needs to be one-hundred-and-ten percent perfect for Fallon. He deserves everything and more, and I think this will make him smile.
God, I hope it makes him smile.
He’s doing a lot better, and I get his smiles more frequently now. They’re fucking addicting.
His hair is neon green now. Still half black, of course. I’m not sure he’ll ever change that. It’s sorta just a part of him. And he’s added a nose stud to his piercings.
“He’ll be back from band practice any minute,” I say excitedly, doing an obnoxious drumroll on the kitchen counter. “Almost time.”
Georgie narrows her eyes on me. “I see. I can take a hint. I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy yer cookies and yer boyfriend. You better treat him right.” She holds her fists up like she wants to box, and I tip my head back, laughing.
“I’ll punch myself in the face if I hurt him. It’s not happening. Don’t worry.”
“Think I’ll punch ye too. I’m thinkin’ Sofie as well, so ye stay in line on prom night. Be a gentleman like I taught ye. Alright, lad?”
“Of course, Georgie.” I kiss the top of her gray head before she scurries out of the kitchen with a plate of extra mini ice cream sandwiches for the rest of the family.
She’s never made them individually sized. We always make one giant cookie and slice it like a pizza. And it’s just for birthdays. But Fallon instantly loved them, so I cannot wait to see the look on his face when I ask him to prom.
The door from the garage opens and in walks Fallon. He finally got his license two weeks ago. Joel and my dad surprised him with a new car, rewarding him for all the hard work he’s put into overcoming his past trauma.
A brand new Mustang Shelby GT500, custom painted in chameleon paint that changes from bright blue to bright green depending on the lighting. It has an all-black interior and is more than perfect for Fallon. I still call him Blue, even though his hair is now green.
He’ll always be my Blue.
His dark gaze hones in on the cookies, widening in surprise as a slow smirk tugs at one side of his mouth before that intense stare switches to me.
“Hey,” I say, feeling oddly shy about this whole thing.
“Hey,” he replies, stepping further into the kitchen from where he froze in the doorframe. He sets his guitar case down, and his eyes dart over to the cookies, then up to me.
“Will you go to prom with me?” I ask, regardless of how obvious a question it is.
He picks up the dot in the question mark and takes a huge bite, moaning at the flavor.
I chose strawberry cheesecake ice cream between homemade chocolate chip graham cracker cookies. Special. Just like him.
“Yes,” he mumbles around another mouthful, and I pick one up too.
“Oh. Holy shit. Yes. This new combo is fucking on point. Thank you, Georgie.”
Fallon chuckles, and the raspy sound rolls over my skin like a soft caress.
I lean down and kiss the strawberry ice cream from his lips, enjoying the taste of my boyfriend.
“It’s going to be fun. Good memories. Happy memories. And the after-parties will be fucking epic,” I say, grinning widely before grabbing a second cookie and biting it in half.
* * *
“Smile, kiddos!” Joel shouts, pushing his glasses up his nose before attempting to use the new camera Dad got for his birthday.
He wants to take up another hobby in his old age and decided it’s photography. But he can’t be bothered to figure it out himself so that task landed on Joel.
He holds his eye to the hole and nearly bumps his glasses off.
