“You’re not stupid.” I frown. “You just process information differently. I told you.”
“I know.” He smiles that soft smile. This one is different from the one I’m used to. “And I believe it. Thanks to you.”
I chew on my lip, snuggling into my hoodie, feeling a little on the spot and exposed.
As if Cooper can read my damn mind, he changes the subject so I don’t have to feel uncomfortable. This man, I swear, is an alien or something. Because he’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met.
We continue to talk for a while before heading back to school, parting ways, and going about our own days.
When school is over, I remember we drove Cooper’s car here and start the walk home.
I’m halfway there when I feel my phone buzzing. Stopping, I pull my phone out, pause my music, and answer. “Hello?”
“Blake, hey. Where are you?” Cooper asks.
“Ah, walking home. Why?”
“What? Why the heck are you walking home?”
“Because I didn’t drive to school....”
“No, because we took my car.”
“Right.”
“And what, you thought you had to walk home or something? Blaaaaake,” he groans. “I would have given you a ride.”
“Oh.” I lick my lips, looking around as cars drive past me. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me. After everything you did for me yesterday and this morning? Of course I’d drive you home.”
“I didn’t wanna assume.”
“Where are you? Are you on 95th or 87th?”
“Neither. I’m on the highway.”
“What!” he shouts. “Blake, that's not safe. What the hell?!”
“It’s faster,” I protest.
“You’re going to give me a heart attack. Step to the side and wait. I swear to god Blake, if you get hit by a car, I’ll never forgive you.”
The phone call ends, and I stare at the screen, dumbfounded. He’s upset, but not at me. He’s upset for my safety?
Not wanting to worry him more, I step into the ditch and onto the tree line, away from the road.
I watch the cars go by one by one until I see Cooper’s car. He pulls over onto the shoulder.
I jog over and pull open the passenger's side door. “Are you okay?" Cooper asks, looking me over.
“I’m fine.” I put on my seatbelt. “I walk this road all the time.”
“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shakes his head. “You could get yourself killed.”
“It’s not a busy highway. I’m fine.”
“I’m not one to tell people what to do, but if you care even the smallest bit about our friendship, please, for the love of god, don’t walk this road anymore.” He’s pretty much begging me. My brows pull together, confused about why this is upsetting him so much.
