Chapter 39. Twenty-Two

Tessa’s POV

I push my hair behind my ears for the tenth time and check my reflection in the dark window of the lobby.

It’s 8:58 on Saturday morning. I’m wearing jeans, my warmest sweater, his jacket, and a scarf Darcy knitted me freshman year that’s lopsided on one end. In my tote bag, I have two train tickets to Boston, a printed itinerary, a backup itinerary, and a small box wrapped in brown paper that I’ve rewrapped three times.

I’m still mad at him.

I’m mad, and I made a plan anyway, because when Knox mentioned on Thursday night that Wyatt’s birthday was Saturday, and that nobody had done anything for it in seven years, something in my chest folded in half.

Nobody?

His mom used to make it a whole thing, Knox said. After she died, he just… stopped. He plays a game, or he trains, or he goes somewhere by himself. Last year he turned his phone off for two days.

So I made a plan. That’s what I do.

At 9:00 exactly, h