“Maybe. I mean, I already got the best birthday present ever. This.” London waves around Mr. Bunny. “So, I’d say turning fourteen will be special.”
Holding your hand was my birthday present, LonLon.
Just as I’m about to say something, cheers from a distance break me out of my thought. There are people laughing before, “Two minutes to go!” is shouted in unison by voices so far it could be from around the skyscrapers. Those we can only see from a close distance are all lit up and pretty.
And then it hits me.
Two minutes.
They shouted two minutes.
It’s going to be midnight in two minutes.
It’s going to be the New Year in two minutes.
It’s going to be both of our birthdays in two minutes.
Suddenly, two minutes feels like too long. Or too short. Or whatever it may be. I’m so lost in London’s eyes to even notice what I’m really feeling. I’m just glad. Glad I’m here with her.
I want to start the year fresh, which is why I say, “I’m sorry I didn’t come back the night after.”
“It’s okay.” She blushes. “You’re here now.”
I am. I’m right here. And I’m never leaving.
My fingers slip back into hers because I like the way it feels. She lets me.
“Would it be okay if…” I gulp down and glance at our intertwined hands. “Would it be okay if I held you until midnight comes—”
“Yes,” she breathes before I can even finish.
I scoot closer to her and pull her into me. My right arm wraps around her shoulder, almost as if it’s a half hug, but my left hand is still intertwined with hers on my lap. London nuzzles into my chest, and we lean our heads together.
I’ve always spent New Year’s Eves alone in my bedroom due to my parents’ rowdy parties. This year, I’m with her. And I’m holding her hand.
Holy crap.
I’m holding London Héroux’s hand!
“Do you have any wishes for the New Year, or your birthday, or both?” London whispers.
“Just one.”
“What is it?”
I look down at London in the solace of my arms, and we smile in unison. “I can tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anybody else…”
“I promise.”
I glance between her eyes, and something in my chest shifts. “I want to spend every New Year’s Eve like this with you. Think you could sneak out of your house once a year for me?”
London curls her body to me as we keep each other warm. “Only if you sneak out of your house once a year for me.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
“So… we can’t meet here any other night? Just in three-hundred and sixty-five days?”
I gulp down, knowing how much this next year is going to be torture. “Once a year. I think that’s the best thing to do, you know, because…”
I don’t need to continue; the look in London’s eyes tells me she’s already figured out why.
Our parents.
Their bitter feud.
The forbiddenness of us.
“Okay.”
“What’s your wish for the New Year, or your birthday, or both?” I ask.
“Aside from really wanting to see you here next year too?”
I can’t help my slow, cocky smirk. “Yeah, aside from that, because that’s an obvious one.”
London cutely rolls her eyes before thinking long and hard. “Earrings. I really want to get my ears pierced.”
“Oh cool, they’d look really pretty on you.”
Giggling, she turns back to the lake with flushed cheeks. “Stop making me blush, Tate.”
“But I like it when you blush.”
“You like it a little, or you like it a lot?”
“I like it a hell of a lot.”
London turns back to me with a grin. “Will you ever stop saying bad words?”
“Mhmmm.” Tipping my head back, I pierce my lips shut and pretend I’m concentrating really hard before bursting out into laughter. “Nah, I like the way you tell me off about it.”
“You’re so annoying!”
“You steal my bench, and now you’re stealing my birthday? Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I tease. “You’re the annoying one, Héroux.”
“Shut up, Meadows.”
I put on my best London Héroux voice. “Don’t tell me to shut up. Mama says it’s a bad word!”
“You think you’re so funny…” London full-on glares at me, so I give her my best straight face, which instantly fails, and we’re both bursting out into laughter. Again. She playfully punches my chest with her free hand, and it just makes me hold her shaking body closer.
The laughter settles down, and we simply stare at each other, but it isn’t just a stare; it’s so much more. I feel it all through my veins, and I’m sure London does too. It must be the reason she squeezes our intertwined hands right in that moment.
I squeeze back. Harder. Longer. Slower.
We stare.
And stare.
Then stare some more.
Until people cheer, “Happy New Year!” and loud screeching explosions of fireworks have us both glancing toward the lake and above the Manhattan skyline at the wonderful mix of red, green, and blue fireworks.
They go wild.
Again and again and again.
Every single explosion feels like the fireworks going off inside me. Those that match my every heartbeat because of her.
“Wow!” London gasps in awe and gestures toward the fireworks. “Look at them, Tate!”
That’s when I stop looking at the fireworks and focus on her instead. On her face, which flickers every single color of the rainbow, including that pot of gold. Because as stunning as all those colors are, she’s so much more stunning, and I want to do everything to prove it to her.
London Héroux is beautiful.
Through her pain.
Through her loneliness.
Through her darkening bruises.
She’s beautiful.
“Happy New Year, Tate!” She grins, finally looking back at me.
I grin back and don’t miss the hitch in her breath when I lean closer. I kiss the side of her head, letting my lips linger again, and murmur back, “Happy Birthday, LonLon.”
Moments later, I’m walking her home in silence, but I never let go of her hand. Not until we reach Madison Avenue, where she tells me it’s better if I let her go here in case someone sees and people talk.
Her family must live in one of these lavish apartments. A penthouse, nonetheless.
London looks up at me, her hair smoothly blowing in the wind, and slowly smiles. “Thank you for making my night better. I’m glad we found each other again, Tate.”
“Me too.” I smirk. “Don’t miss me too much this year, all right? You’ll see me soon enough.”
“A year is never enough.” She laughs, but there’s sadness to it, and I know why.
It’s too long.
A year is too long, but this is how it needs to be.
Bringing our interlocked hands together, I press my lips against her hand and smile against her skin. “You’re not freezing anymore…” I let go of our hands, and I instantly miss her touch. “Good night, London.”