Her eyes first land on Noah, moving to me next. She pauses halfway through her step.
The last time we stood face to face it didn’t exactly end in friendship or the kind of shit that doesn’t simply disappear because time passes.
She walks toward us.
Noah turns back at me.
“You been at the hospital all day?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Aubrey reaches us just as the word leaves my mouth. She leans up and presses a quick kiss to Noah’s mouth. The kind of easy affection that still catches me off guard every time I see it. Natural. Unguarded. Like they’ve done it a thousand times and will do it a thousand more.
She looks at me, and for a moment, I brace myself.
I expect the comment. The judgment. Something about Jace and how fucking stupid I’m being. How I don’t know what I’m getting myself into. How he’s going to screw me over and leave me worse than I already am.
But instead, the only word that leaves her mouth is, “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply.
A small pause sits between us. Awkward as hell. Heavy with everything we haven’t said.
“How’s your dad?” She asks quietly.
The question surprises me. I wasn’t prepared for that.
“No change,” I say.
The words taste bitter on my tongue.
Aubrey’s face softens immediately. She reaches through the open window and takes my hand before I can pull away or tell her I’m okay.
“You know I’m here for you,” she says.
“I know.” I hate the way my voice sounds. Too small. Too fragile. Too close to breaking.
So I do what I always do when things get too real. I deflect.
“You know what I’m really pissed about?” I say.
Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“I missed the biggest showdown of the year.”
Her mouth twitches, almost forming a smile.
“Trust me,” she says. “It wasn’t that exciting.”
Noah lets out a quiet laugh beside her.
“That’s bullshit, Aub and you know it,” he says, before he turns his face toward me. “The cafeteria celebrated harder than when the football team made state.”
Aubrey nudges him with her elbow. “You exaggerate.”
“Do I?” he asks, grinning now.
“Always.”
