He looks up through his thick lashes, giving me a look that says,Shut up.
I look away because those hypnotizing eyes might kill me otherwise.
“Where does it hurt?” he asks.
I touch the outside of my ankle. He nods and places the ice pack on it, holding it as he clears his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
“I shouldn’t have walked away from the ladder, especially with Harley running around. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Oh.” For some reason I thought he was going to apologize for how he’s been toward me since I arrived. I thought maybe we could be friends again. Ihopedwe could be friends again. “It’s okay. I’m sure my ankle will be better by tomorrow.”
He nods, but he still looks torn up about it.
“Besides, youdidsave my life,” I tell him.
“I doubt you would have died,” he says, his lips inching into a grin.
I shrug. “Could have. But now we’ll never know.”
He sets the ice pack on the table and unravels an ACE bandage, circling it around my foot then up and around my ankle.
He hands me the ice pack. “You’ll want to hold this on there. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Cooper stands and holds his hands out for me to take. I scan them, finding the scar on his left thumb from when he burned it on a baking sheet the last time I was here. It’s faded now—white instead of bright pink—but it’s there. Yet another reminder of how different things used to be between us.
I place my hands in his and try to ignore the soft buzz his touch elicits inside me. And as he pulls me up, something comesover me and, without really thinking, I find myself saying, “So, um, would you maybe want to go get tacos when we’re done here?”
When he doesn’t immediately answer, instead seeming to study me, my cheeks flood with heat, and I silently berate myself. His friendliness today doesn’t negate the fact that he’s acted completely disinterested in connecting with me since I’ve gotten to town, and I feel stupid for getting caught up in the moment.
“Tacos?” he finally says, his expression unreadable.
I train my gaze on Cooper’s shirt instead of those captivating eyes and bite my lip, wondering if I should tell him to forget I said anything. Wondering if I could get away with telling him I was just kidding. “Uh, yeah. We could go to that cute stand we used to stop by every day after swimming?”
“That place closed,” he tells me, his tone flat as he drops my hands. “It’s an ice cream stand now.” He takes a step backward, not meeting my eyes, and I can tell he’s shutting down again. “I’m going to get back out there.”
I nod, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah, okay. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” He runs his hand through his hair as he looks at the floor. “Sorry again about your ankle. I’ll see you around, Ellis.”
I wilt as he disappears through the doorway, leaving my extended olive branch snapped in half on the break-room floor.
Chapter Eight
When Sloane and I walk into school on Monday, homecoming posters line the walls of Bramble Falls High. The excitement is palpable. Whispers of dates and dancing fill every classroom. In classes, homecoming dinner plans are already being made, and girls are scrolling online shops, searching for the perfect dress.
By Wednesday, however, the buzz has mostly died down as everyone begins the wait to see which brave soul will be the first to initiate an invite.
Meanwhile, I’m just trying to get from point A to point B on a bum ankle without being late.
Jake sets my lunch tray on the table and lets me slide into my seat before sitting down beside me.
“Wow, how chivalrous of you to carry the lady’s lunch,” Slug quips. Jake gives him the middle finger. He’s been carrying my backpack and my books for me all week, following me around while I limp from class to class. The swelling in my ankle hasgone down, but it still hurts. I could probably carry my own stuff, but Jake insisted. I don’t know how much chivalry has to do with it, though. Helping me has been getting him out of the first few minutes of his classes.
