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“This is your dream, Max. How can I not be happy that you got into the college you’ve been busting your ass to get into? How can I not celebrate something like that? What kind of selfish boyfriend do you take me for?”

I turn my face just enough to look at him.

“You know what this means, though, don’t you?”

He nods. “Yeah, I do.” His arms tighten around me. “It means you’re going to one of the best schools in the country. It means you’ll learn from people who know a hell of a lot more about writing than I ever will. You’ll soak up everything they have to teach you and probably ace every class without even trying. Then you’ll do what you’ve always been meant to do. You’ll write those stories you’ve been carrying around in that beautiful head of yours, and people are going to fall in love with them. One day, I’ll walk into a bookstore and see your name on the shelves. And when somebody asks why I’m smiling like an idiot, I’ll tell them I knew you back when you were just a girl scribbling stories in her notebooks, too damn stubborn to believe how good she really was. I’ll be so proud of you, Max. So proud.”

“Stop. Just stop,” I beg him, feeling like my heart is being torn apart.

Milo’s arms tighten around me, and I can feel his heart pounding against my back.

“We’ll make it work,” he says at last.

“How?”

“The same way we’ve made everything else work. We’ll figure it out.”

I turn in his arms and trace my thumb along his bottom lip.

“You’re going to Atlanta. I’m headed for Rhode Island. I don’t know if you watch rom-coms or not, but long-distance relationships don’t exactly have the best track record. Especially when it comes to high school sweethearts.”

He lets out a small laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You calling us high school sweethearts.”

I frown, but before I can ask him what the hell that’s supposed to mean, he takes my hand and presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist.

“We’re so much more than that, Max. So much more.” His eyes find mine. “High school sweethearts? That doesn’t even come close to describing what we are. That’s how I know we’ll make it. A few hundred miles between us aren’t going to change what we have. Neither is going to different schools.”

“How can you be so sure?” I ask, nervously chewing on my bottom lip.

He reaches up and gently pulls my lip free from my teeth.

“I just am.” He shrugs, as if those three little words should be enough to explain everything.

And the crazy thing is, I almost believe him.

Maybe it’s because Milo has never given me a reason to doubt him. Or maybe it’s because when he looks at me like that, with so much certainty swimming in his gaze, it’s hard to imagine a life where he isn’t right beside me.

Still, I wish I could borrow some of that confidence. Just enough to quiet the awful little voice in my head that keeps reminding me how much I stand to lose.

I put a pin in the subject and let out a long breath before lying back on the blanket, pulling Milo down beside me. He immediately reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together as we stare up at the clear blue sky.

For once, I make a conscious effort to push all my doubts and insecurities aside.

I don’t want to think about college or the hundreds of miles that will soon separate us. I don’t want to spend what little time we have left in Fairhope worrying about a future neither of us can predict. So I take another deep breath and allow myself to enjoy the simple pleasure of lying here beside him.

Slowly, the tension begins to leave my body as I take in the scenery around me.

God, I love it here.

I love this orchard, with its rows of apple trees and the way the afternoon sunlight slips through their branches. I love the smell of fresh grass and damp earth, the gentle breeze carrying the faint sweetness of the blossoms overhead. Something about this place makes the rest of Fairhope feel a million miles away.

It grounds me.

Although, if I’m being honest, nothing grounds me quite like having Milo beside me.