Alyssa ♔
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The days following my win are surprisingly calm. I have faint recollections of the referee grabbing my hand, the cheers from the crowd, the lights flashing, and then being guided right into Max's arms, which is where I've been since.

Or I should be. Max had a last-minute delivery shift, so I'm here on a lazy Sunday morning, having breakfast with my mom, who remains blissfully unaware of my recent fight. The onsite medic did a decent job patching me up after the match and provided me with some Arnica, so with the help of makeup, the minor bruises I got during the fight are hardly noticeable.

Part of me still can't believe I won. I figured it was over as I lay on that canvas, gazing at my opponent's steely expression. But one glance at Max, Maddie, and Tiana forced me back up. It wasn't just me I was fighting for; it was them. They believed in me even when I doubted myself–there was no way I was letting them down.

The rest of the morning is spent looking at house listings near Stanford. I thought it would hurt more to imagine us living somewhere else, but the longer we talk about the little cafes nearby or how easy it would be to meet up for a coffee after class, the more I realize it's not about the house but the people inside of it; I wish we'd realized it sooner.

Still, knowing that my time in this house is limited, I decide to make the most of the day. It kicks off with a relaxing bubble bath, proceeds to a brief facial session in the kitchen with my mom, and concludes with me nestled in bed with a book—the first moment of relaxation I've had all week.

I lean against the headrest, barely reaching the end of the next chapter, when my phone buzzes. While I've received plenty of congratulatory messages these past two days, tonight's message, much to my excitement, is from Max.

I have a surprise for you tonight. ;) Meet you at seven?

A wide smile stretches across my face, causing a spasm in the bruise under my chin. After responding with a resounding yes, I toss my book aside and open my closet door, suddenly wishing I'd asked for more details. Usually, surprises lean toward the formal side, hinting at something fancier. But with Max, it could be anything.

Opting for a summery dress suitable for anything but sparring, I head downstairs. The house is quiet, and a brief search leads me to a note from Mom on the kitchen counter explaining she'll be home soon. I crumple the note and toss it in the trash as the doorbell rings.

My heart pounds as if it's our first date. It's strange, realizing nothing is standing in the way of our happiness now: no meddling parents, no Justin, no lingering doubts. Breaking up was incredibly painful, but looking back, it strengthened us. Now, we have to make it through college.

I take a deep breath before opening the door. As it swings open, there Max stands, tall and confident, a beautiful smile lighting up his face. He's wearing a casual shirt with the top button undone, revealing just enough of his neckline to make my stomach flutter, and dark jeans that seem to conform perfectly to his body. He steps forward, his presence filling the doorway with a warmth that instantly makes my heart race.

"You look beautiful," he says, and before I can utter a word, he leans in and kisses me. His hand gently cradles the back of my head, pulling me closer. I respond to his kiss, and whatever I have on my mind fades away. Even though we've practically lived in bed together since the fight, it feels like it's never enough.

I want more.

"Please tell me we aren't sparring tonight," I say as he breaks the kiss and guides me toward the car. "I look too cute to roll around on a mat, and I still feel like I've been hit by a truck."

Max grins and opens the car door, letting me slide into the passenger seat. Taking a deep breath, I savor the familiar scent of his car – warm, sweet, and uniquely him. He checks his mirrors, and before he even starts driving, his fingers dance over the stereo screen, scrolling down to Tupac.

I smile and then talk the whole ride because I'm so nervous. Max doesn't mind, which is the complete opposite of Justin, who used to complain that I talked too much, sang too much, breathed too much, and gave him a headache.

With Max, it's always felt like I can be unequivocally me. He doesn't get bored of my stories or roll his eyes. Even when I delve into the specifics of the Greek yogurt and green tea face mask I applied this morning, explaining how it revitalized my skin, he doesn't sigh. Instead, he asks about the quantities I used and whether he should try it too. I swear, I love this man.

"We're here," he says.

I finally shift my gaze from him, noticing that we're pulling into the parking lot of the milkshake diner. Even though a double chocolate shake sounds tempting, the shutters are drawn, and the lights are off like they're already closed. I turn to Max, waiting for him to realize it, too.

With all the time in the world, he allows the final lyric of Tupac to play out before shutting off the engine. Still gripping the wheel, he grins. "It's funny 'cause I should hate this place," he says, shaking his head. "It's in the Palisades, for one. Two, the milkshakes are overpriced, and three, I get the urge to punch Justin every time I'm here–" Finally, he turns to me, releasing his grip on the wheel as his gaze becomes softer, "–but it's one of my favorite places."

Not what I was expecting him to say, but it fills me with fuzzy feelings anyway. "Why?"

He flashes the kind of grin that makes my heart double-flip before using his thumb to brush my cheek. "Because," he says, dropping his hand, "it was the first time you spoke to me."

"It was?"

He nods. "I was seconds from beating the shit out of Justin when you put your hand on my shoulder and told me, while he deserved it, there were kids around. Then you gave me this look, like—" his eyebrows furrow as he searches for the right words. "I don't know–I guess like you understood me, and for a second, I understood you too."

I feel my heart squeeze, surprised that he even remembers that moment—it feels like such a long time ago. But now that he's mentioned it, I remember it perfectly: we were on opposite sides of that diner, worlds apart, and yet, something about him at that moment caught my attention. He just looked so out of place, as if he despised everything about the Palisades and was simply there to appease someone else, kind of like how I'd felt. Then, when Justin launched into his usual spiel, Max jumped up and defended Kino in a way I wasn't used to. In my world, people didn't often stand up for each other; everyone fended for themselves. It was why, for a fleeting moment, I wished I could have someone like him in my corner, too.

"I have a confession," I say coyly, stealing a glance at his mouth. "I liked you even back then."

His gaze grows wicked as he leans closer, letting his breath fan my face. "Liar."

"I did," I insist. "I would never have admitted it to myself, but I felt it every time you walked into the room. All I wanted was for you to notice me."

Max lifts his hand to rake his fingers through his hair. There's a little downward pull to his mouth that tells me this is hard for him. "I know I've said it enough times this weekend, but I'm so fucking proud of you, Liss, and so, so fucking in love with you."

His gaze flicks down to my mouth. Even though he has said both of these things multiple times, I still experience that sudden flutter in my stomach, a sudden reminder of my happiness. "I'm in love with you too," I say, some of the doubts from earlier returning, "which is why I'm so scared about college."

"Then let me make it clear," he says, framing my face with his hands. "I'm not going anywhere. Where you go, I go, remember?" And with that, he kisses me, coaxing my tongue with his in a sweet repetition. He runs his fingers through my hair, and I slip a hand beneath his t-shirt, trailing my nails down his back. At some point, he lifts his mouth from mine and presses it to my collarbone. "Believe it or not," he says, breathing heavily, "making out in the parking lot wasn't the evening I had planned for us."

I laugh as he shuts his eyes, collecting himself before opening the door and circling the car to open mine. "Max," I say as he takes my hand to help me out, "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it's closed."

He looks at me over his shoulder and winks as he leads me to the door. "Not for us. I'm making you an Alyssa-special tonight."

I laugh again, assuming he's teasing, but then he reaches for the handle, glancing around as if checking for onlookers. Turning back around, he unlocks it with what I assume is Kino's employee key. "What if someone sees us?" I object. "Kino might get in trouble." Nevertheless, he's already opening the door, stepping forward, and taking my hand before pulling me inside.

My eyes are immediately drawn to the fairy lights adorning every corner – framing the windows, illuminating the tables, and casting a magical glow over the bar.

Slowly turning, I redirect my focus to the milkshake bar, where various elaborately crafted shakes await, each labeled with small placards too distant for me to read. Just as I consider moving closer for a better view, the kitchen door swings open, and in stride Hayden, Maddie, Tiana, and Kino, each balancing trays laden with even more milkshakes, complete with sparklers on top.

"Here comes our champion," Maddie announces as they set the trays in a booth, and then she glides over in her stunning sparkly dress, enveloping me in a tight hug.

"What is this?" I manage, hugging her back. It's about all I can manage without crying.

"This," she declares, pulling away to offer me a smile, "is your milkshake party." Gripping my hand, she guides me away from Max and directs my attention to the bar, giving me a closer view of the placards. Courageous. Passionate. Beautiful. Empathetic. Sexy-as-hell. Fashionable. "We each made a milkshake to represent the things we love most about you. Max made two."

A lump forms in my throat as Kino approaches, appearing much healthier than the last time I saw him in the hospital. After a brief, slightly awkward wave, he pulls me into a powerful hug, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you," he murmurs near my ear, "and I'm sorry for not being at your fight. My mom has kept a tight leash on me since the accident."

"I'm just glad you're here," I say, holding back tears. "Did you guys really do this for me? Aren't you worried about getting into trouble?"

He throws an arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the booth. "Nah, I asked Peter if we could do something for you here. After bribing him with some free labor, he agreed."

I'm still smiling as we slide into the booth, joined by Maddie and Hayden. After turning up his favorite Tupac song, Max eases into the spot next to me, planting a kiss on my cheek and giving my hand a reassuring squeeze beneath the table. I nestle against his shoulder, gazing at the assortment of milkshakes. I want to cry. And I'm not just talking about shedding a little tear but full, fat sobs; this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.

"All right, all right," Hayden says, tapping his milkshake with a spoon. He straightens, accidentally knocking his knee on the table before emitting a yelp. He recovers, hoisting his fashionable milkshake into the air. Laughter ripples through the group, and he gestures for us to settle down before looking right at me.

"I have to admit, I was skeptical when Maddie mentioned you joining the gym," he says, glancing at her before fixing his gaze on me, "but I was wrong. You're one of the bravest people I've met, and your willingness to step up and help save the gym, even when you hardly knew us, is something I'll never forget." His green eyes deepen, no longer regarding me as Maddie's friend but his. "Congratulations on your win, Liss–" he raises his glass, prompting everyone else to do the same, "—you earned it."

Amid the clinking glasses and cheers, I feel the tears sting my eyes. Max places his milkshake aside and wraps an arm around me, his body a comforting cocoon against which I rest my head. Still in disbelief, I only mumble, "I love you guys so much."

"We love you too," Maddie says, leaning over the table to give my hand a reassuring squeeze, "so stop crying and enjoy your milkshake."

"It's my party," I remind her, raising my head with a grin. "And I'll cry if I damn want to." Then I grab a milkshake, the one labeled 'sexy as hell,' and shoot Max a questioning look. "Did you make this?"

He raises an eyebrow as if he's completely innocent, but the wicked look in his eye suggests otherwise. "I may have had a helping hand."

"Interesting." I take a leisurely sip of my milkshake, stealing a moment to appreciate my favorite people – Hayden and Maddie, whispering like school kids over a bright pink milkshake, Tiana and Kino snorting over some joke, Max tenderly tucking my hair away to prevent it from falling into a dollop of cream.

Maybe it sounds crazy, but a part of me still struggles to believe this is real, that there are people who genuinely care about me. Not long ago, I was convinced no one ever would. I'd sit in this booth with Marnie and Justin, wondering if true happiness was possible or if I was destined for a life of misery like my parents. Now, in this same diner, same booth, I'm surrounded by nothing but love.

Max is still doing his best to protect my hair when the same song we'd danced to the night of my parents' party begins playing. He instantly remembers the moment and seizes my hand, leading me away from the booth, his arm encircling my waist. A cascade of my hair spills forward, and with an intensified gaze, he delicately tucks it back before lifting me in his arms and spinning me around.

"Max!" I squeal, grabbing his shoulders, but he doesn't put me down. I open my eyes as the diner blurs into a whirl of lights and laughter, hit with the unmistakable feeling of being home.

So this is what happiness feels like.

A/N

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