Page 21 of To Catch a Firefly

He laughs harder when I snort, nodding my agreement.

“Remember…” He has to start over, humming a little to disperse his laughter. “Remember a couple weeks after that when you took me to prom?”

My gaze snags on his, and his expression is so warm that my heart starts to pound in my chest. I hadn’t felt…different toward Lucky at that point. He was my friend.Justmy friend. But he’d seemed so sad, and I didn’t want him to miss prom just because he didn’t have anyone to go with.

“You wore a blue boutonniere,” he says quietly, his eyes dropping to my chest as if remembering. I tried to match the color to his eyes, but it wasn’t quite right. “You were really handsome that day. I never told you that.”

I swallow roughly, my pulse doing its best to drown out everything else.

“You looked—” I cut myself off, not unable to finish my sentence, but stopping myself from doing so at the last moment.

Lucky smiles a little, giving me another nudge. “Okay?” he asks.

Beautiful.

I nod, and Lucky sighs, looking back out the window. “Things are going to change,” he says simply.

They already have. Lucky has been drifting steadily away from me for years now, ever since he left for college. Our paths split back then, and I don’t begrudge him living his life, but he’s right. Nothing will be the same after this. This is…bigger.

“I’ll call,” he says, repeating his words from earlier. “And you’ll answer.”

Every time.

When Lucky lays his head on my shoulder, we fall silent. The sky is navy, stars shining like littered glass, and eventually, when Lucky’s head rolls forward and he jerks back to consciousness, we lie down, knees bent toward one another in the small space. Neither of us suggests leaving.

As we resist sleep at the top of that windmill, Lucky reaches out his hand. Without hesitation, I twine my fingers with his. Blue eyes blink at me in the dark, and I don’t dare look away. For once, Lucky stays silent with me, neither of us speaking a word.

My mom’s voice enters my head then, a whisper of memory from when I was seven.“Not everyone is going to understand you, Ellis. But it’s not your job to make them.”

Lucky has always heard me. From the very first time we met, he’s heard me. He knows me, unlike any other.

He squeezes my hand then, as if to sayyes, and it takes everything in me not to break.

No, this isn’t our end. Never that.

But it is goodbye.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but it’s still dark out when Lucky’s hushed voice whispers my name. I blink my eyes open.

“We have to go,” he says, face hovering over mine. “It’s almost sunrise.”

The pair of us sneak down the spiraling staircase inside the short windmill, our steps light. Lucky snickers when I nearly trip as we’re running past the house like the trespassers we are.When we get to my truck parked along the side of the dirt road, Lucky looks at me, and we both break into laughter.

There’s a grin on Lucky’s face as we drive back home. It wanes a little the closer we get, but I try not to focus on that.

When I park in front of my house, Lucky’s hand lands on my own. I see it then, his fear. His worry over the unknown.

“It’ll be good,” I tell him, my voice sounding raspy after the little sleep we managed.

He nods in a jerk, and we exit the truck. Lucky isn’t leaving for a few days still, but I know they’ll pass quickly. He’ll be packing and getting everything set up, and there might not be a chance for another night like we just had. The thought makes me almost unbearably sad, but I shore myself up tight, refusing to crack in front of Lucky. This pain, it’s my own, and I’ll work through it.

It’s not his fault my feelings grew to…this.

We stand opposite one another for a long, stretching moment. “See you later?” Lucky finally asks.

I nod, and then so does he.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me and you, right, El?”

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