I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I can’t believe what Aiden just said to me.

He’s staring down at the paper in his hands.

“It’s all crumpled up,” he observes.

“I - panicked,” I answer numbly, and Aiden looks up at me again, smiling so tenderly that my heart threatens to burst.

“Were you really going to tell me tonight?” he asks, curling his knuckles beneath my chin.

“Yes. That’s why I wanted to go to the swinging seat.”

Aiden tips his forehead against mine again. “Do you want to go there, now?”

I’m having trouble speaking, but thankfully Aiden understands. He gets to his feet, offers me a hand, and pulls me up. Then he stops, looking down at the poem.

“Can I keep it?” he asks.

In my mind, I can suddenly see a thread connecting two moments, more than a decade apart.

Those words, in that order. That’s exactly what Aiden said to me when he read the first poem, back in high school. When I was fourteen and nervous under his beautiful blue gaze, and he was holding my journal.

What’s this part about? he’d asked, turning it around to show me.

There was just a moment where I kind of felt like we were speaking to each other without talking, I had answered. It’s hard to describe.

Can I keep it?

Present-day Aiden is waiting for my answer.

“Of course you can keep it.” I poke him in the ribs, trying to seem calm and fine and normal. “It’s about you.”

Aiden pauses, then looks down at the page, a wondering look in his eyes.

“It’s about me,” he says, half to himself. He touches a finger to the first three lines. The ones that I came up with, the ones he’s had with him for so long.

I think I understand what’s happening. Didn’t Aiden tell me he loved that old poem, but that it made him jealous, because I wrote it about another guy?

“This one’s about me,” he says again, a little breathless.

He lets out a bright, bubbling laugh, and the magic fireflies flare even brighter, sparkling like tiny chandeliers. Still laughing, Aiden gives my shoulder a shove. It was clearly intended to be playful, but I guess he’s not accounting for his strength right now, because it instantly sends me crashing back down onto the bed.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Bicep boy,” I groan, rubbing my shoulder, trying hard to look indignant. But I’ve never heard him laugh like that before, and I feel a gigantic grin unfolding on my face.

I burst out laughing, too, and even mine sounds different to me, like it’s coming from some part of myself I didn’t previously have access to. Aiden practically beams; he hops onto the bed and climbs over me, pushing me onto my back. I fold my arms around him, and he puts the tip of his nose to my nose.

“That flannel,” he says. “Isn’t it the same one you wore to pick me up from the airport?”

“Yes. It’s my favorite one.”

“Hmm.” Aiden smiles against my lips. “Think it’s my favorite one, too.”

“What were you doing snooping through my pockets, you sneak?” I ask, smoothing my hands down his back.

“I wasn’t snooping. I picked up your flannel and heard a crunching sound, and knowing you, I assumed it was a candy wrapper. I was going to throw it away.”

“That’s… fair,” I admit, and Aiden laughs again, drawing another one from me, too. He nuzzles his nose into my neck, and I close my eyes, the relief only just now starting to set in. I’d thought I might not get to hold him like this after tonight, but here he is, in the glow of the fireflies, like something out of a dream. His hair, rich and soft beneath my fingers, his strong, smooth neck bent over me, his gentle mouth teasing along my throat. Saying things that - that still haven’t hit me yet, that I still can’t understand.

“Aiden,” I say quietly, into his ear. “Since you were fifteen?”

He pulls back, shy again, like he forgot he just told me that.

“Yes.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Yes,” Aiden insists. He touches his fingertips to my cheek, his eyes filling with worry. “I’m sorry, are you freaked out? Maybe I shouldn’t - have said-”

“No, I just don’t believe you!” I cut in. “That’s such a long time. If that’s true, then you love me too much. I don’t deserve all that.”

Aiden stares down at me, his eyes shimmering in the golden light, but also glowing from within. He’s doing that thing again, where he looks at me like I’m the one who planted every blossoming thing in the garden of his heart.

I blush beneath his gaze, and Aiden’s expression - somehow - grows even more affectionate, even warmer.

“No,” he says, very softly. “I love you exactly the right amount.”

My toes curl to hear him say it. An answering burst of pure joy starts to rise within me, but I force it back. I can’t let myself believe it, because it’s impossible.

“That’s - eleven years,” I tell him. “Almost twelve.”

Aiden strokes his fingers down the side of my face. “You can’t picture loving someone for that long?”

I’m about to say no, automatically, but instead I hear myself say:

“Not before now. Not before you.”

Through all the places where we’re pressed together, I feel Aiden’s pulse stutter, then begin to race. He sits back, tugs me upright, and pushes a kiss onto my forehead.

“Come on.” He offers me my flannel. “I owe you an explanation. Let’s go to the swinging seat.”

I’m tempted to answer that we’re not going anywhere, and he needs to tell me right now. For some reason, I’m afraid that if we leave this room, he’ll close up again, and I’ll be left to figure this out on my own.

But deep down, I know that my Companion Plant wouldn’t do that to me.

I expect the magic fireflies to disappear when we leave the room. Instead, they glide along behind Aiden, casting a golden glow onto the walls, onto him, and onto me.

A trail of gentle light, by which I could follow him anywhere.

~~~~

We can’t go into the living room to get our jackets. My parents are in there, and I already have enough going on without having to explain the sudden presence of all these fireflies in the house. Fireflies that aren’t even really fireflies. And with my lying skills?

Yeah, no. That would be a mess. I leave the living room door closed, pull my flannel on, and extract a blanket from one of the hallway closets.

Aiden and I cuddle up on the swinging seat, beneath the blanket.

I melt into the heat of Aiden’s body, which feels exceptionally good against the cold air. It’s dark, but Aiden’s fireflies spread out around us, floating up into the trees, hovering just above the grass, bumping against the little growing things in the garden. The clouds overhead are obscuring the stars, but the brightest ones peek through.

A very light drizzle is falling. For a few minutes, the soft patter of it is the only sound. I press up close to Aiden’s side, and he wraps an arm around me. He smooths his thumb up and down my shoulder.

Wind rolls up to us through the trees, carrying raindrops. They sprinkle down onto our faces, our clothes.

“Please, Aiden,” I finally say. “Come on. I can’t wrap my head around this.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s just hard for me to talk about. Especially to you. And I don’t want to freak you out, or overwhelm you, or…”

“Try me,” I insist.

Another silence follows. I slip free from his arm, then move to sit facing him. Aiden turns and faces me, too, adjusting the blanket.

I take a long look at him, and see that his eyes have turned celadon, the way they do when he cries. I can’t tell if that’s from earlier, or if something else is happening now.

At least I wasn’t the only one who cried a little. I’m sure my eyes are still hazel.

“Hey.” I put my hand on his knee and give him a squeeze. “Would it help if I say it again?”

Aiden thinks it over, then nods, watching me with his lip between his teeth.

I go to say it, but find myself hesitating, nervous. What the fuck, honestly? I just did it, so why is it so difficult? Shouldn’t it be getting easier?

“Love you,” I mumble, looking at the ground.

When I glance up again, Aiden has a wide grin on his face.

“Sorry, what?” he asks, cupping a hand around his ear. “Did you say something?”

“You’re the worst!” I groan, and he laughs. The little huffing sound warms me right up.

“Sorry,” he says, still grinning. “It’s just cute to watch you-”

“I love you,” I interrupt, actually looking at him this time, my heart still stirred from that laugh.

“Oh,” Aiden says, like he’s surprised again.

“And you love me too,” I prompt.

His expression quickly grows serious. “Yes.”

“And you have. Since you were. Fifteen?”

Now Aiden is the one avoiding my eyes. “Yes.”

“Cool, so here’s why I don’t believe that.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jamie, it’s true!”

“First of all, and most importantly - we didn’t know each other back then. Like, not at all.”

“That’s not-” Aiden hesitates, then lets out a long breath, clearly trying to steady himself. “That’s not exactly true. You didn’t know me, but… Do you remember that I told you, I picked you out of the crowd on the first day of school, when I heard your note?”

“Yes…”

“Right. So.” Aiden fidgets with the blanket, but pushes on. “I had never heard anything like that before. Before you, it was all one sea of noise. The only note I could actually pick out was my own. And then, one day, you just - broke free, all by yourself, and started singing.”

“Singing,” I say, dazed.

He blinks, and looks away. “This - sounds stupid to me already. I’m sorry, man, I don’t - know how to describe-”

“Hey.” I poke his knee. “You’re doing way better than you think.”

Aiden nods slowly, taking a breath before he continues.

“I was at war with myself pretty much constantly, back then, so I thought of my own note as lousy company. Didn’t even like the way it sounded. But your note, Jamie, it’s… beautiful. And it made me like my own, for the first time, because I - like the way they sound together. Thought mine couldn’t be so bad, if it went that well with yours.”

I sit perfectly still, just listening. Warmth is spreading out from my chest and all over my body, even to my fingertips.

“On that first day, I found you,” Aiden says. “Pinned down the note to you so easily, which I had never been able to do before. And since I’d never heard anything like you, I was - curious…” His cheeks are turning pink. “So I started paying attention. Trying to figure you out from afar. It wasn’t like - a romantic thing, at first, I was just… I just wanted to know why you were different.” He pauses, then lets out a soft laugh. “Did find you cute right away, though. Not gonna lie.”

I fix Aiden with an intimate smile, and he returns it. It seems to help him forward.

“Anyways, from paying attention, I learned a lot about who you are, and I - started feeling - well. You know.” He shrugs helplessly. “It was this little thing, at first. I don’t even know when it got so big, but... when I read the poem that you wrote, I had this whole like, moment of self-revelation about how fucking badly I wished you had written it for me.”

A moment passes in silence. The rain sifts down onto us, pushed around by the breeze, but I wouldn’t move from this spot even if there was a thunderstorm about to break overhead.

The warmth spreading through me has reached the top of my head, the tips of my toes.

“Then, that day, at the beach…” Aiden fades off, then unfolds the new poem and hands it to me. He points to two of the lines there.

the shells on the beach I lift to my ear

they spell out your name.

“That’s how I felt.” Aiden closes his eyes, remembering. “Like the universe was sending me a very clear message about you.”

My heart is lifting within my chest, borne up on the all-encompassing warmth.

“Like I said, I’d been paying attention,” Aiden continues. “What I’d learned was that you were just - the sweetest fucking person I’d ever come across in my life. You know the stuff my mom used to tell me. That anyone could turn out to be selfish, and heartless, happy to use me or manipulate me. And I believed her, completely.” Aiden looks up, meets my eyes again. “But then I met you, and I thought… Jamie Keane would never do that.”

I’m not sure if I’m holding my breath, or if I can’t breathe.

“Thing is,” Aiden murmurs, “I believed what my mom said, and you made me question it, and that got me - confused, and scared, and I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone. I felt like I had to keep us apart. Obliterate any chance that it might happen.”

“Well - but you didn’t have to be mean to me!” I protest, finally scrambling some words together. “Why didn’t you just stay away from me?”

“I couldn’t, Jamie,” Aiden says, very seriously. “I literally couldn’t. You were pulling on me like a magnet. And you couldn’t stay away from me, either.”

“What?” I draw back, affronted. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Think about it. No matter how fucking mean I was to you, no matter what I put you through, how many times did you go out of your way to try and talk to me, or make friends with me?”

“I was trying to be nice!” I sputter.

“Is that all, though?” Aiden asks, arching an eyebrow. “Because I noticed you didn’t do that with Grant, Ralph, or Noah. You were nice to them, but you didn’t do that.”

“Well - no, I guess I - didn’t…” I fade into stunned silence, my head spinning, not sure what this means.

“I’m not trying to justify the way I treated you,” Aiden quickly clarifies. “I thought I had to be like that, at the time, but it was so fucking unfair to you. And anyway, it was stupid.” He shakes his head, scowling like he wants to go back and kick his younger self. “All that shit I did to keep myself from falling in love with you, when I had been in love with you the whole time, and too dumb to realize it.”

I stare at Aiden, dumbstruck. He’s looking down at his lap, but his eyes flit tentatively up to my face. He gets one look at me and straightens up, alarmed.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you okay? What’s - are you crying? Your cheeks, oh my-” He takes my face in his hands, his eyes wide. “Are you freaking out? This is too much, isn’t it? Fuck, I’m so sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have-”

“You said it back,” I stammer.

Aiden stares at me, confused, still holding my face. It takes him a minute to get what I mean.

“I love you?” he asks, and my cheeks burn even hotter.

I press my hands over my mouth. “You said it again.”

“Yeah…?” Aiden’s eyebrows furrow. “I said it upstairs.”

“But I didn’t believe you,” I manage, my voice dangerously thin.

“Oh, my god, Jamie,” Aiden laughs, guiding my face to his, leaning in for a kiss. “You-”

He stops and pulls back. Tilts his head to the side, listening. He closes his eyes, and his already glowing smile shines even brighter.

“Oh, man,” he sighs happily, ruffling my hair. “I wish you could hear us, right now.”