He still hasn’t texted.

         It’s been exactly one week since we flew back to Florida, and Jack still hasn’t sent a single text message. Not even a quick hi, how are you? or even something along the lines of I’ve decided that I don’t care about you anymore, sorry. At this point, I’d almost prefer the latter over what I’m getting now. But nope. I’ve gotten nothing from him. Zilch. Nil. Nada.

         I have, however, received over a hundred texts from my friends in Florida, wondering where I’ve been for the last two weeks. Twenty of those came from Katie alone, her texts ranging from curious to worrisome to downright angry. Nobody has heard a word from me since I left and it’s driving them crazy. Apparently life has been thrown off balance without the ever-famous Opal Finnegan keeping everything in check.

         As if it’s even my job to corral everyone in the direction that I want them to be going. Because they definitely can’t figure out what to do with themselves without my influence. Right.

         If there’s one thing I’ve realized since I’ve gotten back, it’s how much I truly hate how crowded the city is. There are all kinds of people roaming around who want to get all up in your business. And maybe there was a time when I liked having everyone elbowing their way in a crowd to walk beside me, but now I just want my space. And hence, I’ve been begging my dad not to make me go back to school all week.

         Honestly, I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. It’s not like I’m going to go back and everyone is going to hate me. Not openly, anyway. They’ll still expect me to be the same mean and ruthless girl who they know and cower from. And maybe that’s what I’m so afraid of. I don’t want to go back to school as the girl who everyone knows me to be. I’m not her anymore.

         My dad has been cool about letting me stay home so far, but I have a feeling that this was the last straw and next week he’s not letting me bow out anymore. Whenever he’s been asking me if I feel up to going back, I’ve been using the sick excuse, but even he knows that I’m no longer physically sick.

         Emotionally, however . . .

         I’ve never been the depressed type. I’m not a depressed kind of person. I’m a shop-it-out-and-treat-yourself-to-ice-cream-and-get-over-it kind of person. But even I have to admit, I’ve been showing all the symptoms this past week. Spending nearly every waking moment in bed in the dark watching anything and everything under the sun on Netflix, refusing food when my dad offers, and staying as far away from every social media as possible are probably not the healthiest things for me to be doing.

         But the honest truth is that I feel so drained of energy and excitement that nothing feels important anymore.

         Being away from Jack is making me realize just how hard I’ve fallen for him because now that he’s out of my life, he’s all that I think about. I don’t want to say that I’m beginning to become dependent on some boy, because I’m not. Eventually, I’ll find it in me to pick myself up and start living again, because I am Opal freaking Finnegan, and I rely on no one. Today is not that day, though. Today, I will continue to hide away in a bout of self-pity because I no longer have Jack, and no one is going to stop me.

         There’s a light rapping at the door and I can tell from the pattern of knocks that it’s Ryan. “Come in,” I say, casting my laptop to the side of my bed and pulling the covers up to my chin.

         The door is gently pushed open and Ryan’s dark head of hair emerges, poking through the crack first to make sure that it’s okay to come in. When he sees that I’m in virtually the same position that I’ve been in for the past week, he releases a long breath of air through his nose and makes his way to my bed, sitting beside me, the bed dipping down with his weight.

         “Opal, you gotta stop moping,” he says, his voice pleading. “Dad is getting really worried about you and he doesn’t know what to do.”

         I mumble some incoherent jumble of words that not even I comprehend in response and hug a pillow to my chest.

         Ryan stands up and tugs at my covers and I clamp down on them tightly, doing everything in my power to resist his forceful yanking. However, a week of lying in bed and passing up on eating most meals makes you susceptible to weakness, and Ryan quickly succeeds in pulling the comforter off of me. I groan once he rips it away from my body.

         “Are you really this upset over leaving that boy, Opal?” he asks.

         I nod in response, not in the mood to beat around the bush.

         My older brother sinks back down onto my mattress once again, shaking his head as if he’s awed by something.

         “Who woulda thought?” he asks no one in particular. “My little sister has finally fallen in love and met someone who she genuinely cares about.”

         “It’s not like it matters,” I grumble dejectedly. “He promised to text and he still hasn’t. Clearly he’s gotten over it, so I should, too.”

         Ryan snorts. “You’re so stupid sometimes, you know that?”

         I squint at him. “Huh?”

         “I talked to him in the hospital when you were still dead to the world. It doesn’t take a brainiac to realize that that boy is completely in love with you. But then again, what boy isn’t in love with you?”

         “He didn’t text though,” I point out, fury rising up within me, though I have no idea why I’m suddenly so irritated. “He promised he would and he didn’t.”

         “I’m sure he has a reason. Don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions.”

         I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what he knows that I don’t. Before I open my mouth to drill him with questions, he’s conveniently switching the subject.

         “Put on a swimsuit; Dad invited a bunch of your friends over for a pool party.”

         I sit up. “What? Why would he do that? I don’t want to be seen yet!”

         “I told you, he’s been worried. He figured if he could get some of your friends over here, you’d hang out with them and start acting a bit more normal again. So put on your favorite swimsuit and come down; people are already showing up.”

         My face must look panicked, because he sighs and places a hand on the small of my back, giving it a soft pat. “These people nearly worship the ground you walk on; they’re all dying to see you. Don’t be so uptight, okay? It’s even weirding me out to see you like this.”

         “But they all think I’m a despicable person. You used to think it too; you even said so at the ski lodge. I don’t wanna face them after all the things I’ve said and done in the past.”

         He frowns. “You’re not like that anymore though. And nobody is making you be that person. It’s okay to change; it’s a part of growing up. And your friends should accept that, otherwise they’re not your real friends.”

         “They were never my real friends,” I grumble under my breath. “Besides, they already have their minds set on who I am.”

         A quiet sets in the room for a moment as he digests my words. After a minute, a new look takes form on his face like he has something on his mind. I shoot him a questioning stare, my silent way of telling him to elaborate on whatever it is that he’s thinking about.

         “Opal, I’m sorry about what I said to you at the ski lodge that day. I’ve just always been so jealous of you, and I kind of hit a wall and couldn’t contain it anymore. I’ve always been so jealous of your confidence and how easy you make everything look, but I realize now that your life isn’t a cakewalk and I’m sorry for thinking otherwise.”

         “Thank you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, too. For always taking the attention away from you and stuff. You deserve to be noticed, too.”

         He smiles. “Oh, and Opal?” I look at him questioningly. “I’ve decided to stop smoking weed for good, so you can shut up about that now. No more frat jokes about getting high, okay?”

         My lips spread upward into a grin. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Lizzy, would it?”

         He blushes and shrugs mysteriously, but the glint in his eye affirms what I already know.

         “She’s really good for you,” I say with honesty. “I approve of this thing you guys have going on full heartedly.”

         My brother looks down at me for a moment before ruffling my hair and standing up. “Please come down; it’ll make Dad feel better. And you could use some sun exposure. You’re starting to look a little pasty.”

         “Shut up.”

         “Hey, that sounds a lot more like the sister I know and occasionally love,” he says with a grin before turning and maneuvering his way over my spilled piles of clothing that I’ve discarded on the floor.

         I roll my eyes at his receding back until the door finally clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone in my room. Squeezing my eyes shut, I stretch as hard as I can and finally swing my legs over the edge of my bed, determined to meet Ryan’s request and give everyone the Opal appearance that they’ve been waiting for.

         Just maybe not the kind that they’ll be expecting.                                                              

✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★

         “Opal! Oh my God, where have you been? We thought you dropped off the face of the earth,” a girl in my grade says as soon as I step outside, bearing a light blue bikini and making my first official debut since I left. A bunch of people turn at the sound of my name, and I squirm uncomfortably under all of their stares, tempted to forget about this whole thing and run back upstairs to climb in bed.

         “Hi,” I finally manage to say when I see them all staring expectantly, waiting for me to say something. I give a half wave lamely.

         “How was Paris? Did you meet any hot European guys?” another girl drills.

         “Did you visit the Eiffel Tower?”

         “Did you eat a croissant?” a guy asks, which results in a round of snickers at his expense.

         “Uh,” I say, my mouth unexpectedly going dry. “I didn’t exactly end up going—”

         “Did you hear about Katie and Nick?” the first girl interrupts, effectively letting the words die in my throat.

         “No?” I squeak. The group exchanges curious glances with each other like they’re taken aback and I feel my cheeks warming. What is wrong with me? A couple of weeks ago, I dominated these people. And now I don’t even know how to speak to them. Pathetic. I’m being pathetic.

         “They’re officially dating now,” someone cuts in.

         A pang of betrayal stings my chest, but I manage to keep my face blank. Everyone watches as if they’re awaiting me to freak out right in front of them. And maybe in the past, I would have put on the production that they wanted.

         But things are different now. Things are so, so different.

         “Okay,” I say calmly, keeping my voice level.

         “Your best friend is dating your ex-boyfriend . . . aren’t you mad?” one of the girls fires at me. Clearly this isn’t the response that they had anticipated.

         I shrug. “It’s not really my business, nor is it yours. She can date whoever she wants, and I’m not gonna be one to stand in her way.”

         “Yeah . . . but they knew that they might hurt you and they went through with it anyway. Aren’t you gonna go tell them off for going behind your back like that?”

         My head is spinning. Stop, I want to yell. Stop. Stop. Stop.

         “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I finally snap, suddenly gaining confidence. “Believe it or not, guys, there are far more important things in life than pointless drama like who’s dating who behind whose back and all that other junk. I realize that it’s taken me a while to see this, and I’m sorry for always causing the brunt of the drama, but I’m not going to create a scene over a boy who I couldn’t care less about anymore, and you guys shouldn’t encourage me to, anyway. Sorry.”

         I promptly leave after that, descending down the flight of stairs that lead to the pool, fighting off the flock of butterflies that has suddenly made my insides feel weak and unstable. I can’t even blame it on the illness anymore; this is all the result of me feeling overwhelmed beyond measure.

         My dad should never have invited everyone over.

         The deck is oddly quiet once I’m gone, as if everyone is having a hard time processing what I just said. And for people who have known me for as long as most of them have, I guess I can’t really blame them.

         I make my way down and see even more people milling about in and around the pool. Once they realize that I’m here they all keep shifting their gazes toward me, undoubtedly curious. I chew on the inside of my lip, desperate to find a friend to latch onto to escape the weirdness.

         I’m honestly not prepared to face my peers. It’s like I can feel their fiery glares that burn their way through my face, concealed behind innocent expressions and false smiles pointed my way. Every single person in my backyard secretly hates me. I can see it in their eyes. And why wouldn’t they? Each and every single one of them has been on the receiving end of my relentless teasing and gossiping throughout the years.

         My feet seem to have a mind of their own, and before I know it, I’m standing a couple feet behind Katie, who is laughing at something the girl in front of her is saying. It isn’t until the other girl quickly sobers up and stares directly at me that Katie quickly gets the hint and spins around to come eye-to-eye with me.

         “Opal,” she says, her eyes raking my body as she purses her lips as if she has to verify that it’s really me. You’d have to know her for as long as I have to hear the edge of panic that creeps into her voice. “You haven’t answered any of my texts. I was starting to think you dumped me.”

         I feel trapped. This doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to be here, pretending like these conversations matter to me. All I want is Jack. But he doesn’t even want me.

         “Sorry,” I say dumbly. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have any idea what to say.

         “Hey, babe, I brought you a water. Have you seen—oh.” Nick flushes when he sees me standing awkwardly in front of Katie. “Um, hi, Opal.”

         “Hi . . .”

         Katie clears her throat. “Listen, Opes, we kind of have to talk to you. I know that this is kind of a backstabbing thing for us to do, but Nick and I are dating now, just so you know. I know that you’re probably pissed, but honestly? You and Nick were never meant to be, anyway. And besides, it’s not like you didn’t see this coming. I mean, even when you guys were dating Nick clearly liked me better. I hope you understand. No hard feelings, right?”

         I swear I can hear my heartbeat. A million different emotions whirl about inside of me, but I somehow manage to keep my face neutral as I try to decide which emotion is most appropriate to express. It’s funny; I’m more hurt than I am angry.

         At the end of the day, even my best friend couldn’t care less about me. None of these people were ever really my friends.

         And the fact that I was too blind to see it makes me even that much more upset.

         “Whatever,” I finally manage to mutter. “Do what you want; who am I to get in the way of this sacred relationship you have going that I’m sure will last for a long time? Don’t worry about me.”

         Katie opens her mouth to say something but I turn on my heel and march away in the other direction with my head held high, though on the inside I feel hopelessly lost and confused. I don’t belong here with these people. This isn’t what I want.

         “Opal!” I hear Katie bark behind me. “Come back! You can’t just leave—”

         I can tell that she’s trying to create a scene. It occurs to me that that’s what she wants: she wants to be up against Opal Finnegan in a big showdown in front of everyone. That would mean an instant popularity boost.

         I want to scream at her. Doesn’t she know that there are problems in this world—far bigger problems—than how many Instagram followers she has? Why can’t she see what’s staring her right in the face?

         Instead of screaming or crying or giving her the proper publicized best friend brawl that she wants, I continue to walk away, my lips pressed together. Everyone is watching me now, and a thick silence hangs in the air. I pretend to be oblivious to it all and sink down into a pool chair, crossing my arms and letting my eyes glaze out of focus as everyone slowly resumes their previous conversations, though they seem to be thrown off guard by my latest behaviorisms.

         “Hey Opal,” my friend Abby suddenly greets as she appears beside me. I snap out of my reverie long enough to squint up at her, shading my eyes with my hands to block out the excessive sunlight.  “Sorry I’m late; I got caught up in the line at Starbucks. But quick question: who’s the pale guy on crutches? He’s pretty cute.”

         I freeze. Pale guy on crutches? It can’t be . . .

         My mouth hangs open like a fish, searching for something to say, but I come up empty as my heart skips a beat. Don’t get your hopes up, the rational voice in my head warns. It seems too good to be true. But at the same time . . . How many pale guys on crutches live near here?

         Before I can think about it any longer, Ryan calls for me above the buzzing chatter that permeates the air, signaling for me to follow him inside. I eagerly stand up and make my way back up the deck, not even feeling remotely guilty as I elbow past everyone, getting a few unfiltered nasty looks pointed my way in the process.

         As soon as I get inside, I slam the door shut behind me and sink back against the wall, breathing heavily. Being surrounded by all of those people is making me feel claustrophobic. They all want to be acknowledged by me, yet at the same time, they all would love to slit my throat if given the chance.

         "I can’t do it Ry,” I say, desperation seeping from my voice. “Can’t they all go home or something? I don’t want them here.”

         He looks at me sympathetically. “Dad has something he wants to tell you; come on.”

         My forehead knits up in confusion but I follow after my older brother into the main living room, my mind playing through a sequence of things that my dad would possibly have to tell me. Pale guy on crutches . . . Something to tell you . . . Pale guy on crutches . . .

         It doesn’t make sense. But that doesn’t stop my heart from racing in hopes that for some unexplainable reason, the two things are connected.

         As soon as I turn the corner that leads into the living room and see the all-too-familiar mess of curly brown hair sitting on our couch, crutches propped against the arm and leg clad in a green cast stretched out, I feel excitement bubble up inside of me.

         “Jack,” I say in a dazed stupor, blinking at him from across the room to make sure it’s really him and not a figment of my imagination that’s teasing me.

         “Hey Opal,” he says with a lazy grin, giving an awkward wave. Before I have time to register what I’m doing and decide whether it’s a good choice or not, I’m running across the room and launching myself at the couch beside him, enveloping him in a much needed hug that he eagerly returns.

         It isn’t until we pull back and his eyes awkwardly trail down my exposed body that I remember that I’m only wearing a bikini. Jack blushes a bit at the sight.

         “Why are you here?” I ask accusingly, feeling a wave of nausea at the way I just acted. I practically threw myself at Jack—what was I thinking? Was I begging to come off as the clingy obsessed girlfriend or something? I still have some dignity to hold onto, and acting all needy and clingy is not helping my case.

         Then again, I’m not even his actual girlfriend.

         “Because I asked him to come,” a new voice says. I look up to see my dad standing tall in front of us, slinging an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “Opal, I have something I want to ask you.”

         I feel everyone’s eyes on me and confusion etches its way onto my face. “Ooookaay . . .”

         “Listen,” Dad begins, “these past few years have undoubtedly been hard on me, and I admit that I haven’t been a very good father. Instead of worrying about my two kids, I’ve been focused on replacing your mom, which I now realize was unnecessary. I have all that I need right here, and I would really like to make up for lost time.”

         I stare at him, unable to see where he’s going with this. “And?” I press.

         “And I think that there are some really bad memories associated with this place, wouldn’t you agree?”

         I look over at Ryan, who nods encouragingly. My eyes flit back over to my dad, still not seeing the big picture.

         “The truth is, when your mom left, she really hurt me, Opal. And I know Ryan has never really felt like he fit in here, and then this past week ever since we got back from Alaska, even you’ve been acting depressed and unhappy.” I shoot a sideways glance at Jack, who is studying me with an unreadable expression, and feel my face grow hot at the mention of me acting depressed.

         My dad continues. “And I want to do what’s best for this family, which is why I think that we should start over in Alaska. I asked Jack to come here because he said he can help me prepare me for the move, and also because I know that you missed him. But I need your consent before I can go ahead with it.”

         “Wait,” I say dumbly, replaying his words over and over in my brain. “You want us to move . . . to Alaska? Like, where we spent spring break?”

         He nods. “Only if you want to, though. I just think that the change in scenery will be good for this family. You both seemed happier out there, and I’m not about to deprive my kids of their happiness. But we’ll only move out there if you want to, honey.”

         I look over at Jack, who offers me a small smile, but it looks a bit more like a grimace. Then I look over at Ryan, who is now staring hard at the ground, as if he’s afraid to hear my answer. And finally, I look up at my dad.

         “Yeah,” I say. “I want to move.”

         I swear I hear Ryan exhale a sigh of relief.

         “Are you absolutely positive, honey?” Dad asks. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or make any rash decisions that you might regret . . .”

         “I’m sure,” I say firmly. “I want to leave. I promise.”

         “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ve already talked to someone about selling the house, and Jack has been telling me about houses for sale up where he lives. You’d still have to finish out the semester at school here, but you’d be starting up school in Alaska next year. You’re sure that that’s okay?”

         I push myself off the couch and tackle my dad in a hug in lieu of answering his question.

         “Thank you,” my muffled voice says to his chest. “I want this. I’m sick of living here.”

         “I love you,” he murmurs, kissing my head.

         “Love you too.” I pull out of the hug and look over at Ryan, who looks more relaxed than I’ve seen him in ages. “Hug me brother!” I cry dramatically, throwing my arms out, which results in an eye roll on his part. But he hugs me anyway, and I smile.

         My family isn’t perfect, and we may not have a mother figure around to keep everything together, but we don’t need a mom. We’re perfectly fine, just the three of us.

         And I’m so happy that my dad has finally realized this, too.

         Almost right on cue, the doorbell rings. “I’ll go get that,” Dad says. “That should be the house seller to come check out the place. Ryan, come with me.”

         “Sure thing,” Ryan says, sending a smirk my way. I nearly scoff at the obvious hidden message behind his expression. Have fun with your boyfriend.

         Once they both leave, I turn to face Jack, almost forgetting that he’s even here. Almost.

         “Depressed for the past week, huh?” Jack says, his voice half-teasing and half-sympathetic.

         I find myself glaring at him, suddenly remembering that I’m angry with him. “You didn’t call or text. Why?”

         His face falls when he sees my evident frustration. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I wanted to so badly, but your dad requested that I didn’t in case I let it slip that he was thinking about moving, and plus I’ve been busy helping him plan and stuff this past week . . . I wanted to text you, and if you check my phone, there are probably a million drafts that I almost sent, but I could never get the words out right. I really am sorry.”

         I soften, but I’m not ready to let him off the hook that easily. “I was trying to forget about you because I assumed you were over it, just so you know.”

         “I’m nowhere near being over it,” he admits. “God, Opal, you’re not the kind of person I can just forget about. Especially not when you’re wearing that.” He tips his head at me and I glance down at my bikini before rolling my eyes.

         “Pervert,” I mumble.

         He laughs quietly. “Hey, we slept in the same sleeping bag several nights in a row and I never once tried to take advantage of you. I think we’ve established the fact that I am a very good, wholesome, well-mannered boy.”

         I walk over to the couch and plop down beside him so our skin is brushing. “Whatever you say,” I murmur, biting the inside of my cheek to hide the smile that threatens to disperse its way across my face.

         And then another question that has been relentlessly gnawing at me pushes its way in my mind and I frown.

         “Did you mean what you said?”

         He looks at me, poking his cheek with his tongue. “What I said?” he echoes in confusion.

         “Yeah. In the woods, before we were found. You know.”

         “You remember that?”

         I fiddle with my hands, refusing to meet his eyes. “I remember everything.”

         “Well what about you?” he fires back. “Did you mean what you said?”

         Before I can a grip on what I’m saying, the words tumble out of my mouth, falling out like the first few raindrops before a big storm.

         “I love you,” I blurt.

         There’s a moment where neither one of us says anything and I bite my lip and look away, internally beating myself to a pulp. I shouldn’t have said that already. It’s too soon. Now I’m rushing into things and he’s going to feel uncomfortable and I’m going to seem needy and desperate even though maybe I am a little obsessed with him and it’s probably not even going to work and—

         He grabs my face and does something that I wouldn’t expect from him—he kisses me. But it isn’t a little peck like the first time, with pursed mouths and chapped lips and the innocence of youth that keeps it PG. No, this kiss is definitely PG 13, with a hunger that can only be described as honest-to-goodness love. His one hand cups my face and his other hand has at some point found its way in my hair, fingers slicing through brown tresses and smoothing them out. His lips are much softer now, and his breath tastes like peanuts and Sprite.

         When our oxygen supply begins to deteriorate, we reluctantly pull back, and I can practically feel my eyes glittering with wonder. He rests his forehead on mine and our breath mingles together as we inhale oxygen and I’m thinking one thing: that was totally worth the wait.

         “I love you too,” he whispers quietly, the corner of his mouth pulling upward into a lopsided smile.

         I pull him in for a hug and my heart radiates with a sunny kind of warmth that no human hurricane could manage to induce. His T-shirt smells fresh and clean and him and his pale arms wrap around my torso and stray locks of his feathery hair manage to tickle my face.

         And this, I finally realize, is what love feels like. Because love isn’t a myth, and it isn’t something that people convince themselves that they need when they don’t. Love is real and powerful and rare, but once you feel it there’s no mistaking it for anything else because if just fills you up with this overflowing sense of purpose that makes you resolve to be the best you that you can possibly be, just for the sake of the other person.

         “Who’s he?” a feminine voice that I recognize all too well probes intrusively from a few feet away, effectively ruining the moment.

         I pull away from Jack and frown at the blonde-haired girl who cocks an eyebrow at me, hand on her hip.

         Wracking my brain, I try to think of an appropriate way to introduce Jack to Katie. Is he my friend? My boyfriend? My heroic lifesaver? My a-little-bit-awkward-but-totally-cute knight in shining armor?

         “This is Jack,” I finally settle on saying, shooting her a look that dares her to push the subject further.

         “Oh. Well, he’d be a lot cuter if he wasn’t so pale,” she chirps airily, as if he isn’t sitting right here next to me with a capable pair of ears. As if he doesn’t have feelings. As if what she’s trying to do is okay.

         “He doesn’t have to sit in the sun to be perfect,” I say, my eyes narrowing into the infamous Opal Death Glare. I can see her freeze, clearly not expecting me to go into Deadly Mode. But truthfully, I should have done this with her a long, long time ago. “He’s perfect just the way he is. But you know, Katie, there isn’t much hope for you and your terrible personality.”

         Her mouth hangs open in astonishment. She struggles to find the right thing to say and I can see the growing anger that clouds up in her eyes. As I watch her, I realize how ugly she looks when she’s angry, her mouth twisted up into something akin to a snarl and livid fumes of steam nearly puffing from her ears.

         “Screw off, Opal,” she retorts, glaring at me hotly. “In case it wasn’t obvious, you’re finished. And for the record, Nick was cheating on you when you guys were dating to be with me. But have fun with your lame pale friend. God, I don’t know what happened to you but you’ve become such a loser.”

         Her cold eyes stay on mine for a few seconds and then she struts away, flicking her hair over her shoulder in the process. I make no attempt to chase after her or say anything. I’m not big on letting the other person have the last word, but this is a fight that has exhausted itself, and I’m sick of fighting it.

         “She seems . . . nice,” Jack says beside me several seconds later.

         I fail to smother the smile that threatens to split my cheeks. I gesticulate my hands in a wide motion and put on a fake announcer voice. “And I present to you a look into the typical behavior of the former Opal Finnegan, pre influence from the amazing Jack Jarvis.”

         He chuckles and drapes an arm around me and I snuggle closer to him, resting my head on his chest and listening to the soft thumping of his heartbeat as it pulses next to my ear. I would take Jack over all of my friends in Florida combined any day.

         “Oh hey, by the way, you dropped something on the plane when you were passed out.” Jack shuffles beside me and I reluctantly sit up, watching as he digs through his pocket.

         My breath catches when he pulls out the gold charm bracelet that I had thought I had lost for good.

         “You had it?” I ask slowly, my eyes trained on the gold chain links that reflect light from the ceiling light above.

         He shrugs. “I was considering giving it back to you when you came to say goodbye, but I wanted a legitimate excuse to see you again and I figured this would be my in.”

         Gently, he places the bracelet in my outstretched palm and I stare at it for a moment before casting it aside on the coffee table and wrapping my arms around him once again. “You’re so freaking cute,” I mumble as he tentatively hugs me back, though he seems hesitant in doing so.

         Once we pull back, he studies me. “Don’t you want me to put it on you?” His brows furrow.

         I shake my head. “Nah. I love my mom, but some bracelet isn’t going to make her be here with me. I’d rather focus on the people who are here like my dad, Ryan, you . . .”

         “So you’re saying that you want me to be part of your life, even in Alaska?” He raises his eyebrows.

         I roll my eyes. “Yes, you dork. But only if you keep me warm, because I still don’t really like the cold that much.”

         “I think I can manage that.”

         “And if there’s a bear, you’ll be there with your bear repellent spray, right?”

         He grins. “Out of all the things we went through, the bear is the thing that sticks in your head the most, huh?”

         “It was right there!” I cry exasperatedly, gesturing at the air in front of us. “At least my fear of bears is justifiable! Some people have an irrational fear of them when they’ve never even seen one, and the one that we saw nearly killed me so I think I have every right to be scared and—why are you laughing?” I punch him in the shoulder, but he continues looking at me in amusement. “Stop laughing at me!”

         His eyes are glowing. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m . . . I’m, uh . . . openly expressing my happiness. Yeah.”

         “Oookaay. Why are you suddenly expressing your happiness?”

         “Because I love you,” he says with a knowing smile.

         My heart flutters at his second mention of the L word within the past few minutes. I am loved. And not just by Jack, but by my dad and Ryan, too. And it’s all because of a spring break vacation to Alaska, the last place I ever wanted to go. If I hadn’t gotten lost with Jack, I’d still be the same person I was, focused on popularity and judging others without taking the time to look at my own faults.

         Unfortunately, I can’t undo my past, nor can I mend all of the hearts that I’ve hurt over the years.

         But what I can do is take what I know now and use that to become a better person than I was. Because that’s the way that life works, I guess. We screw up time and time again, but each mistake brings us closer and closer to becoming the best person we can be.

         It’s like that saying, you live and you learn.

         I look at Jack and take hold of his hand in mine and smile—no, beam—at him.

         “I love you too, Alaska.”

THE END

* * * *

Author's Note: AHJBDIUBDFUHVBDFIVDF IT'S OVER???//?/

so that's that and i am actually quite proud of this story because it was my baby and even though it needs some pretty heavy editing and there are some plot holes (lolol lbr what flight goes from florida straight to alaska and vice versa) (i'm surprised that nobody pointed this out tbh) i am glad that i can say that i have finally written my first story, beginning to end. i mean i guess ACC was finished first, but i still have an epilogue to write for that one (um oops) so i'm just gonna claim this as my first finished story. also, if any of you want to make me banners or trailers or whatever else you crazy kids enjoy making, i still have chapters to dedicate and all that good stuff. i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it and thank you so much for all your super nice comments and for voting and everything, it means a lot. also, thanks for sticking with opal. hopefully you learned a thing or two through her.

now that this is over, i'd really like to get that epilogue of ACC written so that's one less story to worry about, and then i have another story called broken glass that i'd love for you all to check out. it'll be religion based but it won't be the shove-down-your-throat kind of religious story, i promise. and if that's not your thing, i have plenty of upcoming stories planned that might show up around here shortly, so keep your eyes peeled :)

if you guys have any questions at all about this story, feel free to ask and i'll be sure to answer!

i'd like to say thank you one last time and as usual, lemme know in the comments below what you thought and i hope you have an EXQUISITE day/week/month/year/life :)

xoxo,

Gossip Girl

jk jk

~casey