Page 128 of Cross Check

I navigate to the VIP parking area and flash the badge I purchased last night. It’s one of the only times I’ve name-dropped myself, and the mild arrogance is going to be worth it to see Amelia happy.

“A band,” she says, walking beside me across the grass and taking in the crowd. “Who a lot of people my age like.”

“That is correct.”

“I see Doc Martens and belts that I wore in high school, so I’m guessing this band has been around for longer than a few years.”

“You’re getting warmer,” I say when we get close to the entrance. “Any guesses?”

“No, but I—” Amelia gasps. She whips her head away from the sign attached to the facade to stare at me. Eyes wide, mouth parted. “You’re joking. There’s no way we’re about to see Dashboard Confessional right now.”

“I’d never lie to you.”

“But you—when did… how did you even know I liked them?”

“Lucky guess.” I leave out the part where she was blasting their music when she picked me up from the airport in Denver. She hummed along to the songs on the drive back to her place and has one of their playlists saved as a favorite. “We’ve been inside the last week, and I figured this was a good way to send you off.” I put a hand on her arm, stopping her in place. “I know I’ve said it already, but I’m so grateful for you, Lia. Thank you for bringing me back to the light during one of the darkest times of my life. Thank you for being my friend.”

“Grant.” She rests a palm on my chest. Her fingers twist my shirt, holding it in her grip. “I’m not glad that Riley got hurt, but I am glad we got to spend so much time together. You’re one of my favorite people in the world.” Her words turn softer, a murmur like she’s keeping a secret. “I’d spend a hundred days in a row with you if I could.”

“Me too.” I cover her hand with mine. “Wait until you see our seats.”

The VIP box is tucked away from the crowd. It’s the perfect place to enjoy the music without feeling like we’re on display. The band comes out, and Amelia shouts the lyrics to every chorus like it’s 2003. She jumps up and down. She sings along. She doesn’t have a care in the world, and it’s the most beautiful she’s ever been.

I run out to grab a plate of fries when she says she’s hungry. Back in the box, she rests her head on my shoulder. She sways along to a slower song I don’t know, but want to learn. It’s perfect. Everything with Amelia is always perfect, but having her here like this—lighthearted, sunburnt, and laughing hysterically—is the pinnacle.

How do things get better than this?

By the end of the night, I’m exhausted. My throat hurts from singing. My feet are killing me, but I don’t care. Amelia sits in the passenger seat with a cheek-splitting smile on her face, and all is right in the world.

“This was the best day of my life.” She reaches across the center console to touch my shoulder. Her eyes shut and her breathing slows, but she keeps her hand on me. “Thank you, Grant.”

I nod, happy too.

This was the best day of my life too, but that’s not surprising.

Every day with her is the best day of my life, and it’s going to hurt like hell when she’s gone.

FORTY-ONE

GE

Happy 4th of July, Lia.

Watch out for all the scary hot dogs.

I mean sandwiches.

AG

You’re a smartass.

GE

What are you doing to celebrate?

AG

I’m visiting my family, and we’re grilling later tonight! What about you? How’s DC?