“Christ, you’re cheeky today.”
Trevor’s response is to hold out his palm. I slap the flash drive into his hand, and he slips it in his pocket. “Could you do me another favor?”
“Really?” I ask, even as I’m smiling. “What is it this time?”
“I’m texting you an address,” he says, fingers flying over his phone. “Could you stop there on your way home? They have something that needs to be picked up.”
“Uh-huh,” I say slowly. “It’s not sex toys, is it?”
Trevor lifts an amused brow. “No, it’s not. Although that sure is giving me some ideas.”
I clear my throat, refusing to think of said ideas right this minute. “Well, if that’s all.”
Trevor chuckles. “Thanks, Red. I appreciate it.”
“It’s no trouble,” I tell him truthfully. “See you later?”
He nods, blowing me a kiss as he walks away. I check my pockets, fully expecting to find a slip of paper tucked somewhere and coming up empty.
“Hey,” I call.
Trevor turns back around.
“Where’s the next line?”
His lips twist. “No clue what you’re talking about.”
I groan, but a ping from my phone distracts me. It’s the address Trevor promised. I’m curious as I plug it into my maps app and return to my car. It’s only a five-minute drive.
When I stop outside a bakery, my eyebrows climb. I’m starting to feel like Trevor is sending me on a very purposeful treasure hunt.
As promised, there’s a package waiting for Trevor inside, already paid for. The lady at the counter hands it over with a smile. Attached to the top of the box by string is a single poppy and a note reading, “Don’t open until 8 PM.”
“What are you up to?” I mutter, even as I suspect I already know.
I bring the box back home with me, getting a few more texts from Lumi and Todd as I hide in my room. My mom texts, too, a simple message telling me she hopes I’m having a good day.
I’m surprised to find I sort of am.
At six o’clock, I get a text from Trevor. My pulse spikes as I see the picture he sent.
It’s our table in the library. And on the top is a slim strip of paper.
The next piece of the poem.
His message comes just after.
Bruiser: Bring the box with you.
I stare at my phone for a long while before grabbing the bakery box and leaving the house.
I walk this time, needing the extra minutes to prepare myself. My cheeks are flushed once the library comes into view, the box in my hand shaking slightly. I have no doubt Trevor is waiting for me up on the third floor.
There aren’t a lot of people inside, most everyone getting a start on their weekend. I climb up the flights of stairs, the door to the stairwell thunking closed behind me. I pass stacks of books. Old magazines. Cassette tapes.
Trevor isn’t at the table. I approach, setting the box down before picking up the strip of paper.
A voice comes from behind me. “Out of the endless people I’ve met. Countless faces I forget. Yet in deepest sleep I could count. A thousand freckles known by heart.”
