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full moon affecting people.” You’re asking because of that, but also because somehow, you’re feeling drawn to J.R. Almost magically. You’re not sure if it’s because you watched him save someone’s life, or because of his underwear-ad-campaign-ready body, or because he actually seems like a really nice guy, but there’s magnetism there.
    â€œOh,” he says, and then stays quiet for a moment. “I believe in the possibility of magic.”
    You nod. “I like that. I think I believe in the possibility of magic, too.”
    You’ve made it to the ice cream stand, and you look at all of the options written on the chalkboard wall.
    â€œWhat would you like?” J.R. asks. “My treat, because you spotted that guy first.”
    â€œOh, you don’t have to!” you say.
    â€œI know.” He reaches into his bathing suit pocket for his wallet. “I’m not doing it because I have to. I want to.”
    That magical magnetism feels as if it just ratcheted up a notch, and you can’t quite look away from J.R.
    â€œDouble chocolate chip with chocolate sprinkles,” you say. “In a wafer cone.”
    That’s your favorite ice cream combo and has been forever.
    J.R. smirks.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” you ask.
    â€œI was planning to get vanilla with rainbow sprinkles in a cup.”
    â€œOpposites attract?” you ask out loud, before you realize the words have made it from your brain to your mouth.
    But thankfully, J.R. smiles. “Opposites attract,” he says.
    J.R. pays, and you take your ice creams over to a bench. You lick your cone quietly, feeling the stress and panic of the near-drowning situation leaving your body. You look over at J.R., wondering if he’s feeling the same thing.
    He’s already looking at you. “I liked what younoticed about me before. About me taking care of people. That . . . it meant a lot somehow.”
    You shrug. “It seemed obvious,” you say as you lick your cone again.
    â€œNot to everyone,” J.R. says. “Not everyone listens like that. Or bothers to notice.”
    You move your cone up and run your tongue around the edge to catch all the drips before they make it down to your hand. Then you say, “People must be nuts not to listen to you. Or notice you.”
    J.R.’s quiet for a minute. “You have some ice cream on your lip,” he says.
    You’re horrified. It must be pretty disastrous if he bothered to say something to you about it. “Where?” you ask, swiping at your mouth.
    â€œLet me,” he says.
    You tip your face toward him, and the next thing you know his lips are on yours. You’re surprised for a second, and then he slowly pulls away.
    â€œAll clean,” he says, looking down at his ice cream. He eats a spoonful. You wonder if maybe he’s embarrassed. You wonder if you should say, “That was nice” or “Thank you” or something, but those both seem lame.
    â€œJ.R.?” you finally say.
    He looks back at you.
    â€œI think you have some ice cream on your lip, too.”
    This time, you lean toward him, and this time you’re not surprised, and this time the kiss lasts so long you start to feel short of breath.
    You pull away and then scoot closer to J.R. on the bench. He puts his arm around your shoulder and hugs you in closer to him. You lean your head against his chest, and he rests his chin on your hair, tucking you tight against him. And you decide that this moment—right here, right now—is exactly the birthday present you’d be hoping to get this weekend. And it makes you believe that the existence of magic is more than just a possibility.
    CONGRATULATIONS!
    YOU’VE FOUND YOUR HAPPYENDING!

    Click here to go back to chatting with J.R. the lifeguard.
    - - - - -
    Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.

YOU look over at Tasha and Jade. They’re