He knew all that. He’d seen all the photos, and they’d heard the story countless times growing up.
“When you were about four months old, there was one day Lila woke up and started crying. She woke you up, but instead of joining in, you reached your little hand over to grab hers.”
Gavin crossed his arms, failing to hide his smirk.
“You held onto each other, and Lila stopped crying,” she said, rising from the bed. She moved to stand closer. “You held on to her, and you’ve never let go. You’ve always known what she needs—how to make her happy.”
His shoulders dropped. “You think she needs me to let go?”
“No, Gavin.” She gripped his wrist. “Hold on. You need to hold on tighter than ever. Don’t let the fear of the future hinder your time together. Talk to her.”
She patted his shoulder twice before leaving him alone. He thought about her words, knowing she was right. That was why Lila had the bucket list after all. She had such focus on the future that she forgot to live in the present.
Gavin pulled out his phone and sent a text to Lila. He apologized and told her he’d see her the next day. Then, he created a group text without her.
Gavin: Hey guys, I need your help.
Lila’s Summer Bucket List
Sleep under the stars
Attend a party
Get a tattoo
Use fake ID to sing karaoke in a bar
Stand under the lights on the football field
Go on a date ❤️
Sneak out of the house
Visit the baby goat farm
Go to Chicago
Midnight swim
Spend a day in bed watching movies
Stay up to watch the sunrise
❤️ Be kissed in the rain
Run through the halls of the high school
Conquer a fear
Paintball
Try something new
Dye hair pink
Sneak into movie theater
Climb water tower
15
Wednesday
“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Dylan tied off the balloon then wiped it with the towel sitting between them.
As Dylan held another open, Gavin slowly poured red paint inside the matching latex. “It was in a movie. You know the carnival game where people throw darts at the balloons? It’s like that, but they’re closer together, and when they pop, the paint bursts out over the canvas or whatever.”
Dylan tied that one off and grabbed a blue balloon. “Sounds messy.”
“Definitely.” Laughing, Gavin filled the balloon. After a moment, he said, “Lila’s wanted to do it since we were kids. She used to throw fits when her parents said no. Even when she said she’d do it outside so there wouldn’t be a mess, they told her no because it was too dangerous to be throwing darts around.”
“And they’re fine with it now?”
They finished that balloon, but Gavin didn’t reach for the next color. He picked at the edge of the towel. Yes, her parents were fine with it. Just like they were fine with the pink hair dye and the tattoo. He had a feeling they’d give her anything she asked for right then.
“Hey.” Dylan brought him back to the present. “You okay?”
He knew it wasn’t his secret to tell. Lila would be mad, but he needed to tell someone. He needed to talk about it with someone who wasn’t his mom. So, he did. He told Dylan everything: finding the bucket list and promising to help, the truce and the Chicago trip, and then seeing her in the hospital.
“Oh my God.” Dylan’s usual light, joking tone had completely vanished.
Gavin had only ever seen him so serious a couple times throughout the years. He picked up another balloon and began stretching it, giving his hands something to do.
“All right,” Dylan said, snatching the balloon away and holding it open. “Let’s get these done so you can show her. Do you have a copy of the list?”
“I have a picture of it on my phone.”
“Good. Send that to me, and I’ll start working on some of the other things. I have a great idea for Saturday.”
Gavin’s head snapped up. “You’ll help?”
Dylan tilted his head with a slight shake. “Of course, man. However I can.”
“Thank you.”
Cautious fingers brushed Lila’s hair to the side. She opened her eyes to see her mom looking down at her then closed them again. When she didn’t move, her mom laid down beside her. “How are you feeling?”
Lila turned to her side. “I’m fine. Maybe a two or three.”
More like six, but she didn’t want to alarm her mother. They’d started that after the initial diagnosis—rating the pain like the doctors had her do in the hospital. She tried not to think about that time too much. It was terrifying. She’d had a lot of headaches in the last year, but when they started becoming too frequent and horrible, she knew something was wrong. After two weeks of nonstop pain that she’d tried blaming on stress from midterms, she woke up in agony, screaming for her parents. She’d held her head and sobbed the whole way to the ER.
“Lila,” her mother’s voice drew her attention.
She looked up, unable to hide the tears. Her mom moved closer, pulling her into her arms. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I know but…”
“But what, sweetheart?”
Lila took a deep breath. “What if I forget?”
Her mom didn’t say anything for a long minute. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”
A soft knock on her door sounded before it slowly opened. Her dad peeked in with a sad smile that nearly broke her heart. It was as hard for them as it was for her.
“Your presence is requested next door,” he said. “Unless you’re not up for it, of course.”
“No.” She sat up. “I’m fine.”
As her dad left, her mom stood and helped Lila to her feet. When Lila hesitated to follow out the door, her mom turned back to face her.
“It’s okay to be scared.” She tucked a piece
