By the time we finish the last clue of the scavenger hunt—which, by the way, took us to a stupid old bookstore where August somehow managed to get a first edition of my favorite poetry collection wrapped up in clue paper—I'm smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. And I hate that. I hate how easily he's making me forget.
Forget what he's done. Forget who we really are.
We're walking down the sidewalk, hand in hand like a couple of lovesick idiots, and I don't even care who's looking anymore. The city feels different today. Lighter. Like we borrowed it from a version of our lives that never got ruined.
"That was... actually fun," I admit, swinging our hands.
August throws me a dramatic look. "Actually? Excuse you. That was legendary."
I snort. "Okay, calm down, king of clues."
He bumps his sh
