"Bro, you really need to, like, eat a pizza or something,” he says, slapping me on the shoulder as he leaves. "You have too many abs."

“I love you, Ella," I whisper. "I will love you for the rest of my life. My heart is yours. Please don't ever give it back to me."

And it doesn't feel dangerous to dream that one day, Ella might be mine in every way. My wife. My family. My future.

I hear him sigh. "Damn," he says. "They really messed you up in here, didn't they?"

“Yeah."

The reason he had to keep wiping their memories was because it didn't matter how many times he reset the story or remade the introductions—Aaron always fell in love with her. Every time.

You don’t know that Aaron has been in love with Ella for the better part of his entire life. They've known each other since childhood.

"Can't look at you."

She hesitates. “Why not?"

“Too pretty."

"This is Juliette," Mr. Anderson says, and looks me over. "Tragic"-he sighs-“just like her namesake."

"She's scared," the boy says. And even though he's talking to his dad, he's looking at me. "She's really scared."

This is, after all, what we’re fighting for, isn’t it?

A second chance at joy.

I press my forehead to the curve of her shoulder, my lips brushing against her skin. “I love you, Ella,” I whisper. “I will love you for the rest of my life. My heart is yours. Please don’t ever give it back to

Five minutes ago, the end of the world seemed like the right reason to propose: to take everything I can in this transitory world—and grieve nothing. But suddenly, it feels like this really might be an impulsive decision. Maybe this isn’t the right time, after all.

“Wait—where are we?” Kenji says. “Where are we going to land?”

“I’m not sure,” she says. “But it looks like we’re somewhere over the general vicinity of sectors 200 through 300.” She looks at Aaron. “Do you have any friends in this region?”

Aaron shoots her a dark look. “I have friends nowhere.”

“Zero people skills,” Kenji mutters.

“But you’ve never seen a single movie?”

“I didn’t have to. I know enough about pop culture to know which films mattered or made a difference.”

Kenji shakes his head, looks at me with something like awe. “But you don’t know anything about the best films. You never saw the really good stuff. Hell, you’ve probably never even heard of the good stuff.”

“Try me.”

“Have you ever heard of Blue Streak?”

I blink at him. “That’s the name of a movie?”

“Romeo Must Die? Bad Boys? Rush Hour? Rush Hour 2? Rush Hour 3? Actually, Rush Hour 3 wasn’t that great. Tangled?”

“That last one, I believe, is a cartoon about a girl with very long hair, inspired by the German fairy tale ‘Rapunzel.’”

Kenji looks like he might be choking. “A cartoon?” he says, outraged. “Tangled is not a cartoon. Tangled is one of the greatest movies of all time. It’s about fighting for freedom and true love.”

“Hi,” she says, her words soft, her hands gentle as she tilts my chin down, toward her mouth. She kisses me, once, her lips full and sweet. It’s a tender kiss, but feeling strikes through me with a sharp, desperate need. “I missed you so much,” she says. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” She kisses me again, this time deeper, hungrier, and my heart beats so fast it roars in my ears. I can hardly hear anything else. I can’t bring myself to speak.

I feel stunned.

When we break apart, her eyes are worried. “Aaron,” she says. “Is everything okay?”

And I realize then, in a moment that terrifies me, that I want this, forever. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to build a future with her. I want to grow old with her.

I want to marry her.

Just the sound of his voice has my heart racing in a way that feels dangerous.

Emotion wells in my throat, surprising me.

“I missed you, Kenji,” I say. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Hey,” Kenji says sharply. “Don’t you dare start crying. If you start crying I’ll start crying and we do not have time to cry right now. We have too much shit to do, okay? We can cry later, at a more convenient time. Okay?”

“No. No. You don’t—” He sighs, looks away. “Paris has never told either of them about their shared history. The reason he had to keep wiping their memories was because it didn’t matter how many times he reset the story or remade the introductions— Aaron always fell in love with her. Every time.

And then he laughs—a sad, broken laugh. “You don’t understand, you don’t understand, you don’t understand,” he cries, shaking his head. “You think these recent events are everything. You think Aaron fell in love with your friend of several months, a rebel girl named Juliette. You don’t know. You don’t know. You don’t know that Aaron has been in love with Ella for the better part of his entire life. They’ve known each other since childhood.”

She’s looking at me and I feel suddenly off-balance.

“What’s wrong?” she says.

I have to step away from her. “I don’t—” I look at her again. “Are you sure I don’t know you?”

And she smiles. Smiles at me and my heart shatters.

“Trust me,” she says. “I’d remember you.”

I want her to look up, to meet my eyes. She doesn’t, and I find it frustrating.

“Will you look at me?” I say.

That works well enough.

But when she looks me directly in the eye I feel my heart go suddenly, terrifyingly still. A skipped beat. A moment of death.

And then—

Fast. My heart is racing too fast.

“Hi,” I say.

She turns at the sound of my voice and startles when she sees my face. Her eyes widen. And I feel it, right away, when her emotions change.

She’s attracted to me.

She’s attracted to me, and the revelation makes me happy.

dare to turn, to look up at him. And that’s when I notice the third person in the room.

A boy.

My breath catches in my throat with an almost audible gasp. A single tear escapes down my cheek and I brush it away, even as I stare at him. I can’t help it—I can’t look away. He has the kind of face I’ve never seen in real life. He’s more handsome than the commander. More beautiful. Still, there’s something unnerving about him, something cold and alien about his face that makes him difficult to look at. He’s almost too perfect. He has a sharp jawline and sharp cheekbones and a sharp, straight nose. Everything about him reminds me of a blade. His face is pale. His eyes are a stunning, clear green, and he has rich, golden hair. And he’s staring at me, his eyes wide with an emotion I can’t decipher.

A throat clears.

The spell is broken.

Heat floods my face and I avert my eyes, mortified I didn’t look away sooner.

I hear the commander mutter angrily under his breath. “Unbelievable,” he says. “Always the same.”