door to the gym. “Your party awaits. Well—as soon as we tell everyone it’s happening.” She motions to Nisha and Olivia, who pull out their phones, presumably to send another text blast.
“Our what?” Neil says.
The gym is bright and festive, decked out in Westview blue and white—streamers, banners, lights. There are rows of carnival games and food vendors, a small stage at one end. A few juniors are still finishing the setup.
“We had some money left over, and we wanted to give all the seniors one more thing to celebrate,” Logan says. “We were going to launch it when the game ended, so we’ve just been waiting—”
“—and hoping we can get sleep at some point,” Olivia puts in.
“But it was worth it!” Nisha says.
I can’t stop gaping at the scene in front of us. Maybe I’m delirious, but I’ve never seen the gym look this beautiful. “Thank you. All of you.”
Neil appears mesmerized by the band unpacking a drum kit and loading their amps onto the stage.
“Oh my God,” he says. “Free Puppies!”
* * *
It’s the best party I’ve ever been to. Nearly all the seniors are here, plus Neil’s favorite band, and he’s just won five thousand dollars, half of which I’ll refuse to accept if he offers it to me. A few teachers show up to chaperone, but we’re not rowdy. Maybe we’re all too tired to cause much trouble.
When they see us together, Mara gasps, and Kirby immediately races over to crush us into a bear hug. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,” she yelps. Most reactions fall solidly within that range. Neil and I can’t stop grinning, can’t stop touching: hands linked, his palm on my back, a stealthy kiss when we think no one’s looking. Turns out, someone always is.
The walls are covered with posters for events that have already happened, and there’s a sense of nostalgia in the air, but for the first time tonight, it doesn’t feel sad. Howl has always been a farewell to Westview and to Seattle. A last-day tradition that’s about so much more than winners and losers.
Savannah approaches us while we’re waiting for Free Puppies! to start playing. The sight of her makes me tense up.
“Congratulations, I guess,” she says flatly.
“Thank you,” Neil says, ever polite. Always earnest, beneath all that smirking.
But I’m all out of politeness when it comes to Savannah Bell.
“Hey, you know what I’m craving?” I say to Neil. “Bowling-alley pizza. Like at Hilltop. Do you think they have any pizza here?”
“You… had the pizza at Hilltop Bowl?” Savannah asks, brows drawing together in an expression of concern.
“No. But I know you did.” With that, I meet her gaze, unblinking, and I bring up my right index finger to tap my nose once, twice. Her face flushes, and it immediately becomes clear she knows what I’m talking about.
Neil catches on. “I’m Jewish too.” His hand drifts to my back. “And this might sound odd to you, but that money’s actually going to make a big difference for me.”
I really, really like him.
“That’s—great,” Savannah manages, and she steps backward until she disappears into the crowd.
Kirby and Mara wind up on one side of us, sharing a gigantic sugary pretzel, and Neil’s friends on the other. They seem about as surprised by our romantic development as Kirby as Mara—which is to say, not at all.
“What are you gonna do with the money?” Adrian asks. “And don’t tell me something responsible like putting it in savings. You have to have a little fun.”
Neil glances at me, and I become putty. “Oh, we will. And I already have some ideas.”
McNasty, Kirby mouths to me.
“What was that?” Neil asks.
“Kirby’s being inappropriate.”
“Did you think that would make me less curious?”
“Oh, we’re going to have fun this summer,” Kirby says.
Mara, though, is a bit of a sore loser. “I only had two more clues left,” she laments, half joking.
Still, the three of us and sometimes the seven of us take selfies and make plans to go to the Capitol Hill Block Party in a couple weeks. I don’t know if we’re going to be okay in college. But we have the summer, and after that, we’ll try our best. I can be content with that for now.
A squawk of feedback drags our attention to the stage.
“Good morning, Westview!” shouts the neon-haired lead singer, earning a whoop from the audience. “We’re so glad you stayed up all night for us. This first song is called ‘Stray,’ and if we don’t see