EMMA’s POV :

Racing towards the art classroom, I was smiling from ear to ear. I pushed the door open with both hands and my eyes lit up as soon as I saw what was inside.

Ian was standing in the middle of the room. Behind him were eight canvases, each had a letter painted of them and together they spelled: M A R R Y   M E ?

“Ian…” I gaped breathlessly. Somehow the air escaped my lungs and I couldn’t breathe. Maybe it was because of all the running, or maybe it ...