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Felix smiled, shook his head, and slipped the paper rose into his Conservancy jacket pocket. Maybe it was silly, but he was going to keep it with him every day now, as a reminder that hewasimportant, even when no one noticed.

Or perhaps, even more so when no one did.

And he made a mental note to himself that first thing tomorrow morning, he was going back to those women on the Mall to tell them they could absolutely set up their card table, permit or not, and if any other park volunteers had a problem with it, they should send them to Felix Bautista, paper rose convert.

Dear Chloe,

It’s funny that we still write each other letters, even though I bike over to your place all the time and even though we’re about to start middle school together.

Sorry I couldn’t come over all last week. We found out that my hamster had skin cancer on his ear. The vet said she could perform surgery, but Mom said that was dumb because hamsters only live a few months anyway, and if I wanted a hamster so bad, I could use my allowance to buy another since they were cheap—$2 at the pet store.

But I couldn’t just let Hammie die! So Dad secretly took me and Hammie back to the vet and I paid for the surgery with all the money I’d saved over the past three years. I was going to use it to buy you something nice for your birthday, but… I’m sorry. Hammie needed me. I think you’ll understand.

He’s doing good now. He has a cute little bandage on his left ear where the vet cut out the cancer. I’ll bring him over to your house soon for you to see. He misses you.

I miss you, too, even though it’s only been a week since I saw you.


Chloe

Twenty years ago

Oliver had been Chloe’s best friend for all her life, but on the day she turned twelve, everything changed, at least for her.

Her party had been at the Ice Creamery, of course. Each year, Chloe got to request any flavor she could dream up and her parents would make it for her and put it into an ice cream cake. It went without saying that Oliver had input; Clover never did things alone if they could help it.

The weeks leading up to Chloe’s birthday had been full of brainstorming and lists of flavor combinations, all conceived on the fuzzy rug in the middle of her bedroom floor.

“I like the chocolate and peanut butter brittle idea,” Oliver said. “Or chocolate and cherry pie?”

Chloe smiled to herself. Oliver always chose the ones with chocolate.

“How about pawpaw and coconut?” she asked. “Or mulberry with granola bits?”

Oliver chewed on the inside of his cheek, a sure sign he was contemplating deeply. “Those are the final four?”

She looked over the sheets of notebook paper strewn in front of them. They had started with close to a hundred possibilities and slowly eliminated them one by one. Now only a handful were left, uncrossed out.

“Yeah… I think those are the top four.”

Per tradition, though, Chloe got final say, and it would be a surprise for Oliver on her actual birthday. So a week later, when her parents brought out the cake, he leaned forward in his chair more than any of the other kids, even though they, too, were eager to find out what Clover had come up with this year.

They all sang “Happy Birthday”—slightly off-key—but before Chloe blew out the candles, she caught Oliver’s eye. He was smiling at her, and even though he was excited about the cake, she also knew he would wait a century for her to blow out those candles if that’s what she wanted. The realization sent an electric zing through her body, the little hairs on her arms prickling up on her skin.

“Make a wish,” he said.

“And make it a good one, Lo-Lo,” her dad said. “A dozen candles is a powerful wish.”

Chloe nodded, although she’d barely heard her dad. She was still staring at Oliver, who suddenly looked different than he’d ever seemed before. Maybe it was the candlelight making a halo around his head, or maybe it was the way he was smiling—theirsmile, the right corner of his mouth a tiny bit higher than the rest, the secret look that Oliver reserved solely for her in their quiet moments together.

She turned her attention back to the candles, which were starting to burn low, dripping wax onto the surface of her cake. Chloe closed her eyes.

I wish he would love me.

Then she opened her eyes and blew out all the flames in a single breath.

Her mom cut the cake. “Chocolate ice cream with a mulberry jam swirl!”