Jay Asher - What Light

Caleb weighs it in his hand.

Devon looks at me. “It actually has to do with you, Sierra.”

Caleb and Heather unwrap their gifts at the same time: A Very Special Christmas scented candles.

Caleb inhales deeply and then looks at me. “Yep. This’ll drive me crazy.”

I grab a candy cane, put it in my cup, and stir. I feel so overwhelmed at this moment. The morning is moving too fast, but it’s my turn to give presents now. I push one of the small wrapped boxes across the table to Heather.

“Good things come in small packages,” she says. She rips into the wrapping paper and then opens a hinged black velvet box. She holds up a silver bracelet that I bought downtown, where I also had it engraved with latitude and longitude: 45.5° N, 123.1° W.

“Those are the coordinates to our farm,” I say. “Now you can always find your way to me.”

She looks at me and whispers, “Always.”

I hand Caleb his gift. He’s meticulous about removing the wrapping, taking off one piece of tape at a time. Heather’s shoe touches mine beneath the table, but I can’t stop watching Caleb.

“Before you look inside,” I tell him, “don’t expect it to have cost anything.”

He dimple-smiles and takes out the glittery red box.

“But it took a lot of care,” I say, “and a lot of tears, and a lot of memories that I will never let go of.”

He looks down at the box, with the top still on. When his dimple fades, I think he knows what’s inside. If he does, he knows how much it means that I’m giving it to him. He carefully lifts off the top. The painted-on Christmas tree is faceup.

I look over at Heather. Her hands are clasped and pressed against her lips.

Devon looks at me. “I don’t get it.”

Heather hits him on the shoulder. “Later.”

Caleb looks stunned, his eyes staying on the gift. “I thought this was in Oregon.”

“It was,” I say. “But it needs to be here.” The gift that arrived with it, tickets to a dance that I don’t know if I’ll attend, is still in the trailer hidden behind our picture with Santa.

He lifts the tree cutting from the box, his fingertips holding the bark ring. “This is irreplaceable,” he says.

“It is,” I say, “and it’s yours.”

He hands me an unwrapped sparkly green box held together with red ribbon. I slide off the ribbon and then pull off the top. Resting on a thin layer of cotton is another tree cutting, from a tree about the same size as the one I gave him. There’s a Christmas tree painted in the middle with an angel perched on top. I look at him, confused.

“I went back to your tree on Cardinals Peak,” he says. “The one that was cut. Part of it needs to return home with you.”

Now Heather and I both put a hand over our mouths. Devon drums his fingers on the table.

“A few weeks ago, I bought you something else,” Caleb says. He pulls out a nearly see-through gold cloth bag. “Note, this bag is diaphanous.”

I laugh. “It is very diaphanous,” I say. Through the delicate fabric I can see a golden necklace. I loosen the drawstrings that hold the bag shut and shake out a necklace with a small pendant of a duck in flight.

His voice is soft. “Something else we wait on to come south every winter.”

I meet his stare, and it feels like Heather and Devon aren’t even in the room with us.

Heather takes the cue. “Babe, come help me find some Christmas music.”

Without breaking eye contact, I slip into Caleb’s arms and kiss him. Then I bring my head to his shoulder, wishing I never had to leave this spot.

“Thank you for the present,” he says.

“Thank you for mine.”

A slow Christmas instrumental begins in the next room. Caleb and I don’t move until after the third song begins.

“Can I drive you back?” he asks.

I sit up and pull my hair away from my neck. “Will you put the necklace on me first?”

Caleb hangs the pendant below my collarbone and then secures the clasp behind my neck. I try to memorize every brush of his fingertips against my skin. We grab our coats and then say goodbye to Heather and Devon, who lean against each other on the couch.

The short drive back feels lonely even though Caleb is right beside me. It feels like we’re in the process of returning to our own worlds. I touch my necklace several times and see him glance at me each time I do it.

I step out of the truck. When my feet touch the dirt I feel glued to the earth. “I don’t want this to be it,” I say.

“Does it have to be?” he asks.

“You’ve got dinner with your mom and Abby, and we’ll be working all night to take this place down,” I say. “Mom and I leave in the morning.”

“Do me a favor,” he says.

I wait.

“Believe in us.”

I nod and bite my lip. I step back and close my door, offering a small wave. He drives away and I say a prayer.

Please. Don’t let this be the last time I see Caleb.

Several of the ballplayers, plus Luis and Jeremiah, work on lowering the Bigtop. Others take down the snowflake lights and wrap up the cords. I help people who come to take our remaining trees. For a few dollars each, they can let them dry out for bonfires. Employees from City Parks bring their trucks and we load them up with trees to submerge in nearby lakes as reefs.

I notice my fingers touching my necklace several times throughout the morning and afternoon. For dinner my parents and I have Chinese takeout in the trailer, and then a bunch of workers return after their family dinners. Like every year, we build a bonfire in the almost empty lot. We sit on wooden benches and folding chairs around the fire and roast marshmallows. Luis passes around a box of graham crackers and hands out chocolate for s’mores. Heather and Devon came by and are already bickering over what to do for New Year’s. He wants to watch football but she wants to start the year with a hike.

Jeremiah sits next to me. “You look too sad for Christmas, Sierra.”

“I’ve always hated the letdown after Christmas morning,” I say. “This year has been especially rough.”

“All because of Caleb?” he asks.

“Caleb. This town. Because of everything.” I look at the people sitting around the fire. “I kind of fell in love with my time here in a way I never have before.”

“How are you with advice?” he asks.

I look to him. “Depends on the advice.”

“As someone who’s lost a whole bunch of time with Caleb, and who’s going to have to fight for more, I can only say do everything you can to hang on to him. You’re really good for him,” he says, “and he seems good for you.”

I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “He is good for me,” I say, “I know that. But logically, how can—”

“Forget logic,” he says. “Logic doesn’t know what you want.”

“I know. And it’s not just a want,” I say. I look into the fire. “It’s more than that.”

“Then you’re lucky,” he says, “because someone we both care a lot about more than wants the same thing.”

He taps me on the shoulder. When I look at him, he points a finger toward the dark silhouette of Cardinals Peak. Near the top are hundreds of colored sparkling lights.

I put my hand against my heart. “Are those my trees?”

“They just turned on,” he says.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I look at Jeremiah and he shrugs. I pull out my phone and see a text from Caleb: Your tree family and I miss you already.

I jump to my feet. “He’s up there! I have to see him.”

Mom and Dad sit at the opposite side of the bonfire, a single long scarf keeping both of them warm.

“Is it okay if… ? I need to…” I gesture toward Cardinals Peak. “He…”

They both smile at me and Mom says, “We have an early morning tomorrow. Don’t be out too late.”

“Make good choices,” Dad says, and Mom and I laugh.

I glance at Heather and Devon. He’s got an arm around her and she’s tucked herself against him. Before I leave, I give my two friends a double-hug.

Heather makes sure my parents can’t hear, and then whispers in my ear, “Keep each other warm.”

I look to Jeremiah. “Can you drive me?”

“My pleasure,” he says.

“Okay,” I tell him, “but I need to grab something first.”

It feels like it takes longer than ever to drive from the lot to the gate at the base of Cardinals Peak.

When Jeremiah pulls onto the dirt and grass, he says, “You’re on your own, lot girl. I will not be a third wheel for this.” We both look up at the hill, to the distant lights on my trees. He reaches to open the glove box and then hands me a small flashlight.

I lean over and give him a hug. “Thank you.”

The flashlight turns right on. I hop out of his car and shut the door, and then he backs away. When the taillights fade, it’s just me, this tiny light, and a looming hill. The hill is dark except for one patch of colorful lights on my trees, with a very special person up there waiting for me.

I reach the last several yards before the final turn in the road, feeling like I must have flown up the hill. Caleb’s truck is parked ahead of me. The passenger window is open and a long power cord drapes down the door and into the brush where Caleb stands, facing away from me and toward the town. The Christmas lights on my trees are bright enough that I can turn off the flashlight and see my way safely to him. He looks down at his phone, probably waiting for a response.

“You are amazing,” I say.

He turns around, his smile bright.

“I thought you were with your family,” I say, stepping into the brush.

“I was. But apparently I looked distracted,” he says. “Abby told me to stop moping around and go see you. I figured this was a better way to have you come see me.”

“You definitely drew me in.”

He takes a step toward me, the lights dancing across his face. We both reach for each other’s hands and pull each other closer. We kiss, and this one kiss melts away everything I’ve been unsure of. I want this.

I want us.

I whisper into his ear, “I have something for you, too.” I reach into my back pocket and remove a folded envelope.

When he takes it, I turn on the flashlight and shine it at his hands. His fingers shake, either from cold or anticipation. It makes me happy that I may not be the only one on this hill who’s nervous. He pulls out the tickets to the winter formal, with the couple dancing together in the snow globe. He looks at me, and I know we have matching grins.

“Caleb, will you be my date to the winter dance?” I ask. “I won’t go with anyone else.”

“I would be your date to anything,” he says.

We hold on to each other in a tight, warm hug.

“You’ll really go?” I ask.

He pulls his head back and smiles at me. “What else am I going to save my tips for?”

I look into his eyes, and it comes out as a statement. “You know I love you.”

He leans forward and whispers into my ear. “You know I love you, too.”

He kisses me on the neck and then I wait while he walks to his truck. He leans into the open window, turns the key, and the stereo comes on. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” plays into the cold night air around us. I stifle a laugh, and Caleb smiles.

“Go ahead,” he says, “tell me I’m cheesy.”

“Did you forget?” I say. “My family survives on this stuff.”

In the town below, I can see the flickering bonfire where Mom, Dad, and some of my best friends in the world are keeping warm. Maybe they’re looking up here right now. If they are, I hope they’re smiling because I’m smiling right back.

“Dance with me?” Caleb asks.

I hold out my hand. “We may as well practice.”

He takes my hand, spins me around once, and then we move together. The Christmas lights sparkle on my trees, which dance along with us in the gentle wind.

THE END

The Nice List

Ben Schrank, publisher, and Laura Rennert, literary agent

for being with me wholly since Book 1, and for being my insecure-author therapists as needed