Page 74 of Levi Bailey has Butterflies

“Sure,” I tell her. “As soon as Miles gets here.”

“Is he the only other employee?”

“Yeah.”

“Levi, you never get any time off, only when your brother is filling in for you. When was the last time you went on vacation?”

I have to think. “Vacation?” I shake my head. “We went on a trip the summer of my eighth-grade year. After that, I always had a job.”

“Levi!” Meredith says, her tone exasperated for a girl who’s never been on a single trip. “I’m starting a list for you.”

“I have a mental one.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m putting it on paper, and I’m addingtake a tripto it.”

“If I take a trip, who will manage the shop?”

Then she reaches across me to where a notebook sits on my checkout counter. Coconut wafts into my senses with her movement. She tears a piece of paper from the book and returns it to its spot. Then she steals the pen that’s in my hand and writes on the paper.

Levi’s List

Hire another employee

Take a trip

“I’m keeping this and adding to it as I see necessary.” She folds the paper into sixths and slips her phone from her pocket. Like I’ve seen her do half a dozen times, she pops the case from her phone, only this time, instead of removing her list, she slips mine inside.

It’s odd, but I like the idea of my list right next to Meredith’s. I swallow, realizing I’ve been staring. “Thanks,” I say, just as my brother walks into the shop to take over for me.

We deliver the blue hybrid to Meredith’s friend, who does seem to light up when Mer gives her the bike. Her mom stands in the background and tears up, mouthing a silent “thank you” to Meredith.

The two make plans to ride the following day, right after Nikki gets done with school.

And, all at once, I get it.

“That was…” Meredith says, unable to finish her sentence as we drive back to the shop.

“Euphoric?” I say.

“Yes,” she huffs out a breath. “Thank you, Levi.”

“You’re thanking me? I didn’t do anything. You bought the bike and knew that she needed it. This was all you.”

“But you helped me pick it out. You drove me to her house. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this. I never would have learned to ride—”

“You would have. I’m just the chump who got to help. I should thank you.”

“You aren’t a chump,” she says with a laugh. “And we both know I neededyou. Not someone, but you. You’re part of this, so don’t try to deny it.”

“You are conveniently forgetting the part where I tried to talk you out of it,” I say, peeking over at her from my driver’s seat.

“We all make mistakes. I almost bought the pink bike.”

That makes me laugh. “You did good, Mer. You made her really happy.”

The truth is I’m selfish. Here’s what I get. Every time we accomplish something on Meredith’s list—or even not on her list, like giving Nikki a bike, I get thisfeelingdown in my gut… I see her pure joy, and it’s like a high for me as well as her. She is so happy. So blissfully, beautifully happy, and I helped her obtain that.

She slips her hand into mine, and while I don’t take it back—my body is a ball of sparks. Ishouldtake it back. I’m giving her the wrong idea. I am givingmyselfthe wrong idea.

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