“Gah, that’s cold,” I squeak as I stand up.
River sets the bag of cookies and milk down then shucks off his jacket, laying it down on the metal seat.
I shake my head in protest. “No way. You’ll freeze.”
“I have a long-sleeved shirt on. I’ll be fine,” he insists as he takes a seat. “I don’t want your legs to freeze.” Upon saying that, his attention drifts up and down my legs. Then, with a rake of his teeth along his bottom lip, he leans over and rummages through the bag.
I could keep arguing, but I don’t. It won’t accomplish anything. So, I carefully sit back down.
He sits up straight with the box of cookies in his hand, which he sets onto his lap, then opens it up, and grabs one to hand to me.
“Thank you,” I say as I take the cookie.
“You’re welcome.” He retrieves the tweezers next and rips open the packaging. “Let me see your finger.”
I stick out my hand, and he gently takes it in his, inspecting the sliver. “Rest your hand on my leg,” he instructs, and I do.
He sets the box of cookies aside, takes out his phone, and attempts to hold it in one hand while using the tweezers with his other hand. He’s struggling, though, so I set the cookie on my lap and take his phone from him. He offers me a smile as I shine the light on my finger, and then he proceeds to gently attempt to pluck it out.
I wince every so often, but truthfully, I’m mesmerized by the entire with how careful he’s being, and the fact that he’s even doing it. And I totally end up forgetting to breathe. That results in my sucking in a shaky breath.
His gaze flits to mine. “It hurts. I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine,” I assure him, feeling like a total dumbass over my reaction.
He returns his attention to the sliver. Strands of his hair fall into his eyes, and I have the overwhelming compulsion to sweep them out of his face. Thank God, I don’t.
Moments later, he gets the sliver out.
“There you go.” He straightens as I remove my hand from his lap. He tosses the tweezers into the bag then picks up the box of cookies, grabs one, and reclines back in the seat.
I do the same thing and gaze up at the stars as I take a bite of my cookie. My mind is racing over the lingering fluttering feelings inside me. I attempt to shake them off, to no avail.
I need a distraction.
“Do you know any constellations?” I wonder as I take another bite of the cookie.
“I don’t. Noah used to …” He trails off, and when I look at him, he’s stuffing half of a cookie into his mouth.
“Do you miss him?” I angle my knees inward.
He chews for a moment. “I do. I hate that I do because it makes everything so much harder. We’ve known each other forever, though, and he, Finn, and I hung out together all the time. And then we didn’t. It almost felt like I lost a part of myself.” His dark eyes land on me. “Have you ever felt that way before?”
My chest constricts as I answer, “Truthfully, no. I’ve never really connected with anyone on that level. I loved my aunt, but she was constantly bouncing in and out of my life, so it got normalized for me.”
He brushes some crumbs off his lap. “You never had any friends you spent time with?”
“Nope. I sort of bounced around between groups, but my wanting to get out of northside wasn’t that common.” I pick at the sprinkles of the cookie. “And I mean, I get it. It’s hard to dream big when you’re constantly being kicked around and told you’re worthless. Again, another normalization.” I stretch my legs out. “I was seen as the crazy one. Even me wanting to go to college got me so many flabbergasted looks.”
He stretches out his legs, too. “Do you know what you want to be once you graduate?”
“Nope, I’m just in a general program right now, but I want to find something. I’m not very good at anything, really. Well, besides running, but that’s not a career.”
“Your grades had to be good for you to get in here.”
“My grades were great, but again, I’ve never stood out with anything.”
He smiles musingly. “You know how to hand guys their asses.”
