But I don’t know if I can bring myself to find out. I can’t risk losing control of my heart again.
Alarm vibrations shake my glass of water until Kenneth presses the screen to stop it.
He rubs his eyes, fighting back a yawn. “Did you finish the donation letter for Dr. Martin?”
I look down at my screen. The cursor clicks judgmentally right where I left it fifteen minutes ago.
“Yeah,” I wince, closing my computer. “Actually, I was wondering if you would write my peer recommendation letter?”
Kenneth crumples a piece of paper and tosses it at my head. “Not cool. I’m not falling for that.”
It takes me a minute to understand what he’s talking about, and when I do, I shake my head. “No! This isn’t a prank. I’m being serious. You know more about my grades and achievements than anyone else I know. You’re the best person to write it for me.”
The smile I think about constantly appears. “I would love to.”
“April—” His eyes narrow and I laugh. “Just kidding.”
“Would you write one for me too?” he asks.
I pull out the rubric to look for any rules against writing letters for each other. “I don’t see where it says we can’t, but wouldn’t it be weird if we did?”
“Nope. We’re partners, Eddie,” he says confidently. “It’ll be fine. What do you say?”
“Okay, but you better make mine good, or I’ll destroy you in yours.”
He grins, but it falters as I stand. My insulin pump has to be changed every two to three days, and since I’m not getting any work done here across from him, I might as well walk home, change it, and finish Dr. Martin’s letter.
“I’m going to head home. Feel free to stay—”
Kenneth’s notebook slams shut, followed by two textbooks and a journal. He ignores the wary glances from other patrons and continues to shove it all into his backpack.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You need to go home, so I’m taking you home.”
I shake my head in protest, but I can’t keep myself from smiling. “No. I mean, that’s kind of you, but you don’t have to, Gray. I’m not running away this time.”
“I don’t care.” He stands and slings my backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll never make that mistake again, Eddie.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Roll up the windowsand come inside,” Mallory says as I pull into her driveway. “The least I can do is invite you in for lunch.”
While it’s normal to come home and see her on my couch with Cade or around for parties, there’s never been a reason for me to go inside her house. I can’t pass up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Everything in the cozy space is incredibly Mallory. Potted plants hang from the ceiling in front of large windows, covered by buttery yellow curtains. The off-white couch is littered with multicolored quilts and her winnings from the carnival. There are so many photos and records on the walls, I can barely see the paint.
“Is curry okay? I’ve been wanting to try these frozen meals and bought every kind.”
I look at a picture of The Quartet smiling on the soccer field. “Sounds great. I’ll take any of them.”
“Perfect.” The oven beeps, and she walks into the living room. “While it’s preheating, I need to change my insulin pump, so make yourself at home. Don’t be nosy, and stay out of Shay’s room.”
“Me? Nosy? That’s definitely more up your alley.” I spot the foreign objects in her hand. “Can I watch? I’d like to learn.”
“For what?”
For you.
