Nothing falls into the empty bucket at my feet. Not one drop. “No, no, no, no, no.”
With every failed attempt to get water flowing, I feel panic rise and the back of my eyes begin to sting. The dark of night is slipping away, a dull blue taking its place. In less than thirty minutes, students will start pouring through the school entrance, and the chalk monstrosity scrawled across the front walkway will feed Snapchat its breakfast.
I stretch and shake out my fingers to ready myself for another attempt. This time, I’m picturing Ian’s face as I do it. I grit my teeth and grunt as I attempt to turn the faucet like I’m the captain of theTitanictrying to avoid an iceberg. “Please, you tiny piece of plastic. Just give me the water.”
“Um, hello?”
I look up to see a head just above the bush line, startling me into a scream.
The person attached to the head raises his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I look at the stranger and pray he is…
A. Not an axe murderer—though, on second thought, an axe might be a helpful tool to crack this faucet open, and/or
B. Someone who won’t judge a girl who’s huddled behind a bush and talking to a faucet in the wee hours of the morning.
“What are you doing back there?” the boy asks.
I sigh and put my hands on my knees. “I’m trying to get a faucet to work. Got any tips?” I ask it casually, hoping that will siphon some of the awkwardness from this situation.
“Dang it. I forgot my Faucet 101 book at home. But my gut is saying… twist it?”
I can barely see the boy from where I’m squatting, but I know he’s smiling.
“Ha. Ha,” I deadpan. “I’ve been trying for the past ten minutes, and it won’t budge.”
I hear a slight rustling as a body shimmies between two bushes. The boy pops up on the other side, giving me a clearershot of his face, and I try to keep my jaw from dropping.Whoa.He must be a new student because no girl would forget looks like that. His body is defined without being bulky, he’s got full lips that are curved up in a playful smirk, and he has a head full of wavy blond hair that’s artfully messy. He crouches down in front of the faucet just as a gust of cold wind hits me, bringing a warm, sage scent with it.
He evensmellsnice.
The boy places a single hand on the faucet, and it takes him all of one turn for the water to start flowing.
My eyes go wide, and I shake my head, amazed. I swear, man hands have an extra eight-pack of muscle in them just for things like opening jars and turning faucets.
“So,” the boy says as we watch the water stream into my bucket, “what’s up with the bucket and scrub brush?”
I try to think of a good response that doesn’t cause my cheeks to go splotchy and my eyes to burn, but my mind goes blank, and the only thing remaining is the truth. So that’s what I give him.
“Homecoming is in two weeks. And my boyfriend…” I bite my lip, pushing back the tears welling in my eyes. “Myex-boyfriend hadn’t asked me yet. So I thought, why don’t I switch things up this year and ask him?” I sigh. “I came here last night and wrote an invitation in chalk, but that was a huge mistake becauseof coursethere was a reason he hadn’t asked me yet.”
I sniffle and pull out my phone to show him the picture my friend texted me at one-fifteen that morning of my ex and Olivia Johnston kissing at some party.
“Oof,” the boy says. “So that’s Ian.”
I groan. “You saw it?”
“The big giant chalk letters that say,Ian, Homecoming with me?Next to the chalk outline of, uh, you.” He frowns and looks at me with genuine sympathy. “Hard one to miss.”
I bury my face in my hands. “What was I thinking?”
“You were thinking that your boyfriend wasn’t a cheater who goes around kissing other girls. No one can blame you.”
The heat scorching my face eases a little with his words, but I wonder… if I’m not to blame, why do I feel like I am? Why does it feel like if I had been enough for Ian, this wouldn’t have happened. He would still be with me, and today would have gone as planned.
The boy shuts off the water when it reaches the top and I move to lift the bucket—but with all the water inside, it barely budges.
“Here. I can help you.” He reaches for the handle, but I stop him.
