"Emma," he says at the same time. "I wouldn't be happy."
"If the world ended today?"
"Yeah. I'd have—I'd have regrets." He opens his eyes and winches at the brightness of the sun, "Wouldn't you?"
She is nodding by now, full on, "You betcha."
"So," Jesse squeezes her hand between his, "What are we waiting for?"
Emma smiles, nodding again, "Courage."
"Come on, chérie. You're gonna let a little thing like that keep you from your one regret on this the last day of life as we know it?"
"I've wasted so much time already."
"Emma," Jesse chides, "Really now?" And it is almost like he is goading her like he knows that she could answer her last what-if right here and now. Almost.
"But—" Emma has run out of excuses.
"Emma," Jesse drawls her name while sitting up, leaving his lips and his bananas parted on the A.
They breathe in sweet tandem then, and Emma feels it. So she opens her eyes, and her face, and Emma opens her heart and she says, "You're right." So he slides the same palm up her jaw and hooks his pinky finger around her ear and swipes his thumb across her apple cheeks and Jesse kisses Emma like driving, apocalyptic summer rain.
Walking into school on Monday morning, Emma and Jesse hold hands like thunder and lightning, and it is that moment, when the whole school sees what they've done, as Quinn will tell them later, that the quiet world of Westcreek High School comes to an end.