Epilogue: Lars' Future

"Guys!" I come back from mine and Roman's tent, waving an envelope over my head. This is the moment I have been waiting for. My fate is sealed inside.

The whole drive out to the campsite, it burned in the bottom of my bag, waiting for me to summon up the courage. Maybe it was the s'mores that helped. Maybe it was Bailey's Pete very probably slipped into our hot chocolate.

Sam sits up abruptly, nearly toppling Leo off him, previously draped cat-like across Sam's knees.

"It came in and you haven't opened it yet?" Sam asks.

Spring Break has been mostly about planning this camping trip, but also a large part waiting for this reveal. Where will I be come summer vacation?

"I'm getting there," I say.

We are about to find out.

Roman pulls me down into him, balanced on the log bench around the fire pit.

"I have been slowly dying over this, so I hope you appreciate that I'm sharing this with you all." This is totally not because I am too wracked by nerves to look at it alone. I want the option to be reminded of all the company I'll still have.

"Are you going to open it or are you just going to stall?" Roman asks. Firelight extenuates the angles in his face and he's too pretty and bronze to hit.

"Scared, Lars?" Sam teases.

I try to glare at him, but it's difficult to contain so many different emotions at once. Excitement, warmth, annoyance, fear...

"Do you want me to do it for you?" Leo offers.

I hesitate. I take too long and springy Leo leaps up from Sam's lap to snatch the envelope out of my hands.

"The suspense is killing me. You're going to take all night." He pauses, waiting an extra long moment that should be my opportunity to stop him. I don't. Instead, I hide behind my hands. It is too terrifying. It shouldn't be. I will live without the Hallie Drew internship. I have plenty to keep me occupied, including selling my bleached and dyed stamp print shirts on Etsy and my good old Facebook buy and sell page. I have bridal shower shirts to make and patterns to cut. Not going to Calgary for the summer will not be the end of me.

I've gone over my options a hundred times to soften the inevitable blow of being picked over. I can go back to Little Fish with Sam and Leo. Maybe I can convince Roman to join us. It'll be great. I'll tie up all my projects before July and close up shop for the summer while I get my job experience with kids and stuff that'll look good on my college applications next year, our last year. The future is laid out before me no matter what happens.

I still hide behind my hands, Roman's arm snaking around my waist.

Leo clears his throat dramatically, one last chance to leap up and read out my fate myself.

I have nothing to prove. Leo can go ahead. In fact, he probably takes too much glee in unfolding the letter.

"Dear Laura,

We received your application for the summer Hallie Drew Design internship, including the preparation for the Canada West Fashion Show. It is our pleasure to invite you to join us."

I peek at Leo between my fingers like he might be jerking me around. His smile is comically large, taking over his entire face. Roman squeezes me tighter, making it even harder to breathe than it already is. Leo doesn't give anyone else time to speak.

"We are excited to bring your exceptional concept of design and implementation into our organization for the summer to learn and assist in design work.

If you have any questions at any time prior to the internship date, please feel free to call or e-mail the contact information provided. You can expect further instructions and details on the internship in the coming weeks.

Congratulations! We look forward to working with you,

Hallie Drew and Co."

"Oh my God." That's all I manage to say.

Leo concludes his dramatic reading by folding up the letter and handing it back to me.

"Will you remember us when your famous?" he asks, grin so wide and white it's a little too much like staring into the sun.

I take the letter back, immediately unfolding it to re-read myself.

There it is, confirmation on letterhead, Hallie Drew's logo dead center at the top of the sheet of paper. There they are, the words pleasure, exceptional, congratulations.

I'm suddenly lightheaded, leaning into Roman more than I should need to.

"Are you excited?" Roman asks.

"I'm numb," I reply.

Really, I don't know how to express the pressure in my chest or the lack of it in my head. Like I'm rocking zero Gs and I'm weightless, but also feeling the effects of shooting thousands of kilometers a second into the stars.

Space travel might be easier than rearranging myself into the future I didn't dare plan for. I already accepted failure. It was easier to expect failure, moving along at the easy pace I mostly set for myself. Yes, every once in a while, someone proposed to me a project a little out of my current reach, and yes, I always managed to make it work and stretch myself a little further than I had before.

But this is a real design internship. It's really something I can fail at. The tiniest bit of nausea wells up in me.

"What if I suck?" I ask out loud. I didn't really mean for it to be a threat I voiced out loud.

"I mean, it could be worse. You could suck at bronc riding and take a shot at that," Sam shrugs, but he flashes a timid smile. It isn't what he means. We're a good combination, the two of us, so good at putting words to feelings.

The consequences of sucking at this internship might not be a handful of broken bones, but it's worse. If I fail at this internship, it means that all my dreams are just dreams. They're just things I imagine for myself, but don't have the guts or talent or work ethic to actually make it happen.

"So what if you suck? You're too stubborn to let one failure derail everything," Roman says, "if you made the worst impression, got kicked out the first week, you would just work twice as hard to be better than anybody who says you'll never make it."

He pulls me in closer, half under his jacket.

"Or punch somebody in the eye," Sam offers.

Leo can't sit still, but his pacing around the fire more closely resembles prancing until Sam grabs him by the arm and pulls him back onto the picnic bench. That's about how my heart feels in my chest.

"Both," Roman concedes.

I cannot imagine punching Hallie Drew in the face, even if she decides I'm the worst intern in history. I can't imagine her treating me much differently than Crystal, putting out there the expectation of professionalism.

"This is so good. You're going to be so ahead of the curve by the time you graduate. You're going to have all this experience. You're going to have a portfolio. You're going to be used to deadlines and critique and fashion shows and everyone else will. You're going to get into any school you want," Leo says, all his energy coming out his mouth while he sits, "you're going to have like eighteen million Instagram followers."

"Leo, I don't think you're helping," Sam whispers, but not quietly enough that I don't hear him. The concern crosses Leo's face immediately, mortified by the idea than his good intentions could make something worse.

I can't handle the potential. It all feels so simultaneously within reach and light years away.

"Let's go get some firewood," Sam says, pulling Leo up with him as he rises up from the picnic bench.

The only sound for a moment is the crackle of the fire and I swear I can hear my heart beating in my ears.

It's not like I'm moving to Denmark for a year. It's not leaving Roman and Sam and everyone behind to explore another country. It's not immigrating. Williams' have done far braver things than spend the summer in the city expanding on their knowledge.

"Are you going to break up with me again, for practical reasons?" Roman asks, "when you're a big deal and have no time for small town folk?"

I thought it would be hard, but if Billy can take the time to talk to me at six in the morning Copenhagen time, and keep tabs on Tim all year, I can figure out how to navigate a long distance relationship. If I want. If I make the effort. 

"There are still a few months between now and then," I insist, mostly joking, "there is lots of time to make that decision."

There's a lot of time for things to happen.

I wrap my arms around his waist. "It might be that no one in the city is capable or sadistic enough to put themselves through getting very attached to me. It would be crazy to just toss away someone who is actually willing to handle me."

"Willing? It's a self-preservation technique," Roman says, matter-of-fact, "I've seen what happens to the people you don't like. Black eyes, total annihilation. I'm just the little bird that cleans a crocodile's teeth while getting all the perks of hanging around with a crocodile."

"Aaww. You're such a romantic," I tease.  

He knows the real reason behind black eyes and vengeance. I didn't do those things for myself. I did them for other people and he knows that I'd do the same for him in a heartbeat. I also know that Roman punched Zach for me, too. Just the little bird, my ass. 

I let him go, if just to prod at the fire, stirring up the logs so the flames catch edges of bark. Out of the corner of my eye, I know he's watching, half-smiling in the fire light.

"So let's talk practical," Roman says, "where will you stay?"

I did think about that. "Probably crash at Tim and Chaos' place. They rent a basement in the North West."

"So you have somewhere to stay," Roman says and I'm sure I get what he's getting at, "and you can dye stuff?"

"Yes."

"And tailor?"

"Yes..."

"Design?"

"Yes! Roman, yes. Get to the point." I roll my eyes. I need to end the pity party right now just to keep all the flattery at bay. The point between necessary support has crossed into the territory of uncomfortable compliments. I don't know what to do with compliments.

"Clearly..." Roman grins and I finally give him the benefit of full eye contact. "All we need to work on is your people skills."

I shove backward him off the bench, but he laughs anyway and I grin anyway.

"See, that is not an appropriate way to conduct yourself in an office," Roman continues. He props himself up and sadly offers a hand to be pulled back to his feet. His smile is so crooked and his dimple too cute and I give in. His hand closes around mine, tugging me hard onto the ground next to him.

We lie there on our backs, stars and sparks shining in the sky. The moon hangs big and round and blue. It's so infinite and impossible.

Someone wanted the stars and the moon badly enough that they invented spaceships and rockets just to reach them. I wonder if the fear of big empty space was more terrifying than the possibility of screwing up being the first person to set foot on the moon, or orbit the earth, or be the first woman in space.

Roman's fingers find their way between mine, squeezing my hand.

Somewhere in the distance, there's Sam's laugh and Leo's bright, fast talking.

The whole year has been the distance between wanting something and having something, making it work, making choices to make it work and I wish I could feel that distance in the pressure of Roman's hand or see it in Sam's uninhibited smile, braces and all, because it is all so monumental. I almost forget that it took a lot of pain and misunderstanding to reach this moment in the woods, in the dancing flash of flames in the fire pit.

The distance between point a and point b always seems shorter looking back at it. This will, too. One day.

I stare up at the stars, my heart swelling in my chest for all the good here. 

____________________

a/n the end! this is it and as much as i love lars and sam, they have their happy endings in this story. as my gift to you, lovely readers, for joining me until the very end, i've made a leo playlist featuring his dancing songs and more (link inline to 8tracks). you can check out lars' and sam's playlist on the same profile!

if you enjoyed sam and lars' adventures in murphy, i'm pleased to announce i will be uploading a prequel of sorts in 2018! this book will revolve around tim, chaos, billy, and feature other characters who've made cameos in team spirit, but takes place BEFORE the events you just read about! there will be more playlists, more music, and more dumb tim injuries.