prehistoric ocean. As the ocean dried out, water seeped into the earth’s cracks weathering sandstone and

making a silica-rich environment for my favorite stone to form.

“I know it’s an Aussie stone,” I say, grinning, “but don’t hate me. I really like them.”

Jace scowls. “Traitor.”

“And greenstones,” I add hurriedly before I’m revoked of my Kiwi status. “Of course.”

He laughs and strokes his hook. “Next you’ll be telling me your favorite animal is the Koala.”

“Well . . .”

He shakes his head.

We continue the length of the beach. At the end, we dip out toes into the water. “Thanks,” he says

over a crashing wave. “For the walk. It helps. You help.”

“Anytime.”

conglomerate

‘Anytime’ comes a couple of weeks later. The night before Lila’s surgery.

Jace sneaks into my room. “Cooper?”

I’m not asleep. My nerves and hopes won’t allow me to shut my eyes. “Yeah?”

He grabs my foot through the bedspread. “I can’t sleep.”

I know. He’s been playing a nervous piece on the piano for the last hour. It was originally jubilant

and hopeful, but then it delved into something dark and desperate that made me cover my ears with a

pillow.

“Come see the glowworms with me?”

It’s the middle of winter, and a cold wind is howling through the gutters.

I peel back the bedspread anyway. Five minutes later, I’m fully dressed and slipping through the

fringes of the bush with Jace.

Icy wind ruffles our hair as we trudge to the cave. The glowworms have left for the season, but our

special spot remains tranquil. I leave my worries at the entrance and allow myself to breathe.

“I’m scared,” Jace says. He’s standing at the wall.

I slide up behind him and slip my arms around his waist, my forehead pressed to his neck. “She has

good doctors, she’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

My head bobs in unison with his nod.

“It’s not just about Mum,” he says, so quietly that I barely hear him.

“What else?”

“Me. Susan.”

I grit my teeth.

He continues, “I slept with her for the first time last weekend.”

I want to move away, but Jace is tracing something over the back of my hand. “It was after Mum

told us things were looking good. I felt so hopeful. So full of energy. She kissed me and I had this need

to be close, you know?”

“Right.” I pull away, but Jace snatches my hand, holding me in place.

“No, that’s the thing. It didn’t feel right. I felt—nothing. Nothing.”

I release my breath slowly. “Why does that scare you?”

Soft pitter-patters of rain turn into a pelting torrent.

“Because it makes everything dark.”

“Jace, you wouldn’t ever hurt yourself—”

“No. That’s not it. I got this mail, Cooper, and I haven’t opened it because I don’t want things to

change, but things will change and—” He turns around. “It’ll snuff out the last of the light.”

He scrubs his face.

“God, I wish I’d never slept with her. Wish Mum wasn’t sick. Wish I wasn’t so afraid all the time.

Wish I was strong like you. You don’t care what anyone thinks and you stand up for who you are. I need

to do that too. But I can’t. Fuck, I sound so stupid right now. I don’t even know what I’m saying. I

haven’t slept in forever, and . . . I don’t know.”

I lift his chin. Hundreds of comforting words dance on the tip of my tongue, but instead of speaking

any of them, I whisper, “I love you.”

The rain crashes hard on the foliage and splashes into the creek. My breath fogs into the cold night

air. “More than a friend, Jace,” I continue. “I am totally in love with you.”

* * *

The blaze in Jace’s eye tells me he’s shocked, but the small twitch of his lip indicates he’s not

entirely surprised.

He blinks and lets out a slow breath that mingles with mine. I’m still replaying the moment in my

mind and trying to understand why I said it. It was the truth—is the truth—but it’s the worst-timed

declaration of love in all of history.

You don’t tell a man you love him when he’s in the middle of a family crisis. When his mum is hours

away from surgery and he’s emotionally frail. You don’t show him a fragile emotion that you’ve

cultivated and protected for years when he hasn’t slept properly in months.

I don’t care. Exhilaration burns through my veins. I’ve said the truth, and the secret anchor in my

chest has lifted. I’m not taking any of it back.

I want to kiss you, Jace. I want to make love to you and hold you forever.

I swallow, daring to hold his gaze. Is he scrambling to make sense of this? Is he figuring out how to

gently let me down?

I stand there forever, waiting. The rain splashes into the entrance, and a few drops land on my boot.

Jace rests his head against the wall and shuts his eyes. “Coop,” he finally says exhaustedly.

I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I never want to know he doesn’t feel the same.

I draw back but he grabs my hands. “Cooper, it’s complicated.”

Of all the things I expect him to say—I don’t see you that way, I love you too, you’re just a

stepbrother to me, I love you as a friend—this is not one of them. “Complicated?”

A long stretch of silence passes. He starts to speak but stops. Twice. Then he manages to say,

“You’re my closest friend. I need that right now.”

I nod. My mouth is dry and I’m shaking. I nod again and duck out of there. Rain hits my face and

drizzles down my neck and under my jacket. At the edge of the creek, I find a speckled stone covered in

wet moss. Conglomerate, maybe. I pocket it and let out a shuddering breath.

He needs me as a friend.

His mum is having surgery tomorrow.

I sniff, nod, then turn back to Jace and take him home.

laminae

I crawl into Annie’s bed. She wraps her arms around me, no questions asked. Does she think I’m

worried about Lila’s surgery, or does she know it’s more than that? How much does Annie know?

I grip my moss-covered stone and cry. She steers my head to her shoulder and pats my back. “It’s

okay, it’s going to be okay.”

Her shirt is wet with my tears. She passes me a tissue but I quickly have to grasp for another. When

I’m finally spent of energy, I lie down on the pillow. “Sorry, Annie.”

She rolls over and kisses my cheek. “Is there something more going on, Coop? I’m afraid for Lila

too but it was Jace’s name you kept saying.”

I’m thankful for the dark, for the shadows that will hide the truth. “I feel for him,” I say. “He only

has his mum.”

“Dad too.”

“I mean real relatives.”

“He has you and me, even if he does have poor taste in tea. But I’m used to that with you, so—”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It doesn’t matter that we don’t share the same blood. We have two homes, and this is one of them.

Jace will always be family now.”

I curl onto my side. Annie’s hair glows dimly despite the dark. “How’d you go from hating them to

loving them so quickly?”

“I didn’t say I love them.”

But she’s blinking back tears, and I know she cares.

“This is just the way it is. No one said you can choose your family, right?”

Suddenly it’s nine months ago, and Jace and I are in the cave: I would have chosen you. That was

the moment I realized my love stretched beyond friendship. The moment that eventually led to tonight: I

am totally in love with you.

“I would have chosen them,” I say. A pregnant pause, then a smile. “You’re right. We are forever

now.”

“Even when things change,” Annie agrees.

Change. The word rings like a church bell on a Sunday morning, trying to stir my soul and snatch

it.

Change is coming. Hell, it could be coming tomorrow. If not tomorrow then it will come in five