Page 91 of Shut Up and Drive

It’s my turn to laugh, and I release all the tension this week created in my bones. I lean on my elbow and look up at the sky.

The moon rests lazily above the trees, waiting for the bright reds and oranges beaming on the horizon to transform into purples and blacks so it can have the spotlight.

“I can’t believe we go back home tomorrow,” I say. Dread pours in every crack and crevice when I think about what comes next. But instead of sitting in fear of the unknown, I ask Thane, “So, what’s next for you after we get back to Long Island?” My voice shakes, betraying my nerves.

“Well,” he says pensively, “I’ll start training at Donnelly Investments, and find an apartment somewhere once I get my feet under me.”

Relief floods my body. “So you’re sticking around, then?”

A soft smile crosses his face. “Yeah, I am. I’ve had enough of traveling and being away from the people I…” he pauses before completing his sentence, “…love.”

His eyes move from the water to mine, burning a hole in any resistance I had left.

If someone had told me when I first saw Thane’s truck in the Donnellys’ driveway again that I would be in a place of forgiveness and surrender, I would’ve laughed in their face. Yet here I am, admiring him like I used to, but from a much deeper place. The scars and wounds of teenage Sera are stitched and healing, and the roots of something beautiful grow through the cracks left behind. It’s amazing how love can grow and bloom from the ashes of what was there before, and become more than ever imagined.

Thane’s voice breaks the silence. “This is it,” he says, setting the oars in the boat alongside our feet. We coast inland, letting the waves set our pace.

I sit up and look around. We are alone on the lake, with the exception of a fishing boat floating past every so often, and I smile as I reach for his hand.

He pulls me across to his bench as we float into an alcove surrounded by vegetation. He pulls my legs over his lap and wraps me in his arms. I can’t get enough of kissing him. I think my body wants to make up for lost time, because once I open that door, he takes the invitation seriously.

Our boat bumps a log sticking out of the river, breaking us apart, and I move back to steady the tipping. Thane laughs and runs a hand through his hair. As he lowers it, I notice he’s trembling.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He clears his throat and a shaky smile crosses his face. “Uh, yeah.”

Immediately a stone sinks in my stomach.

“You sure? You seem nervous.”

He sits in thought for a beat, and we bonk against the log again. I grip the edges, bracing until the motion—and my stomach—settle. I stare, waiting for him to confess what is on his mind, the knot inside twisting tighter.

“Thane,” I say, “if there’s something else you need to say?—“

“—Marry me!” he blurts out. If the boat rocking didn’t throw me off-balance, his words sure did.

“What did you just say?” I ask, even though I did hear himcrystalclear.

“I know it’s fast, Fina. But I can’t fight against what my heart is screaming for anymore.”

He reaches into his pocket, and my heart stops. I laugh when the moisture from the water on his hands makes the lining of his pocket snag. He pulls a little bit too hard, and whatever was in his pocket flies from his hand and plops with a tiny splash into the lake. I gasp, frozen in my place. But Thane screams, “No!” and dives headfirst, fully clothed, into the water, causing the boat to rock uncontrollably. The next thing I remember, I’m launched overboard, fighting my dress wrapping around my legs and trying to figure out which way is up. After what feels like an eternal fight with the Lake Amethyst Monster, Thane grabs my arm and pulls me up.

When I surface, he sputters, “Put your feet down. We can reach right here.”

I nod between coughs and stretch my feet toward the bottom. The deep, thick mud squishes between my toes, and it’s then that I realize I’m missing one shoe. He securesthe boat between some logs and darts off after one of our oars bobbing away in the waves.

I yell after him, “If you see my flip flop, grab that too!”

When Thane returns, his face is dejected, and he has a sprig of long grass in his hair. “That isnothow I planned…at all.” He huffs.

That’s when I begin to laugh.

We stand in chest-deep water, looking like drowned rats—pathetic and soaked—and it’s so…us,I can’t help it. Nothing has ever gone perfectly with Thane and me, so why would this romantic moment be an exception to that rule?

At first, he’s grumpy about how poorly his romantic gesture went, so I squish through the mud toward him, pick the grass from his hair, and plant a kiss on his mouth.

He tastes like lake water and dirt, and smells a little bit like fish, but his eyes glint with mischief as he pulls me against his soaking-wet T-shirt and kisses me until my toes curl in the mud beneath me. He picks me up by the waist and I wrap my legs around him—not just for making out’s sake, but because he’s a foot taller than me, and that water hits my collarbones when he’s got most of his ribs above the surface.