I laughed. “I never would’ve expected that.”
“Why?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Because I look fourteen?”
I was glad it was dark because I felt myself go red. It was true; Luke didn’t look like a senior, but that wasn’t it. “No.” I shook my head. “It’s because I don’t know anyone our age who can actually cook.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I haven’t even mastered pasta yet.”
I saw Luke shrug as we passed under a streetlight. “I was very food-motivated when I was younger,” he said, “while you probably wanted to be a NASCAR driver or something.”
I sighed. “It wasoneHalloween.”
He smirked. “Are there pictures?”
“Try a whole album.” I rolled my eyes. Mom was obsessed with making photo albums; there had to be at least twenty in our basement.
Luke let out an impressed whistle, and we brushed shoulders again, having somehow moved back together. My legs went a little weak, so I couldn’t step away this time.
“I wish we could build a fire,” I randomly said, and straightened one of my rope bracelets. “It’s a great night for s’mores.” I thought of Nick, and the summer bonfires we loved to build. Always on the beach, with plenty of marshmallows and chocolate packed in the Yeti.
Luke laughed. “But that’s a ‘major school rule violation,’ is it not?”
I elbowed him. “You didn’tactuallyread the handbook…”The Bexley School Student Handbook. We all owned a copy. Mine was currently a paperweight.
Luke was quiet, maybe a little embarrassed, and then, “Too bad I left my browning torch at home. It’s for crème brûlée, but I use it to toast marshmallows in the kitchen sometimes.”
My mouth watered. “Have your mom overnight it, then. Along with the cute little pots. I love crème brûlée.”
“I’m assuming you mean the ramekins?”
I smirked at him, but sort of shuddered inside. “Sure.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “We could rob a casino.”
“I think that might involve too many moving parts for tonight,” I said, still looking at him. He was wearing his contacts right now, instead of the glasses Sage referred to as hishipster specs.
I like the glasses better, I wanted to tell him.
“We went to the dance earlier,” he said. “I thought my glasses would probably fog up, so I unearthed my contacts. I almost never wear them.”
“Smart,” I said, but my pulse pitched.How did he literally just read my mind?
Luke nodded.
“So, uh, how was it?” I kicked a stray rock. “The dance?”
He thought for a second. “Slippery.”
“Sounds about right.”
“But,” he added, “Sage is an amazing dancer.”
“Yeah, she is.” I tried to sound casual. Because instead of picturing Sage shaking it, I found myself wondering what Luke looked like on the dance floor, if he was stiff and awkward, or loose and smooth. My chest tightened.Dove,I told myself, and inhaled a breath, trying to recall her sugar-cookie scent. No such luck—there was never any such luck.
We walked in silence for the final stretch, but Luke groaned when we arrived at the Miller Athletic Center. “No way.” He shook his head. “I do not want to play you one-on-one in basketball. Let’s get something to eat.”
I laughed and reached into my pocket for my keys. The fieldhouse was locked up tight for the night, but I was lucky enough to have acquired a campus master key. A family friend had given it to me. “I’m not telling you where I got it,” I remembered Leni saying, with her usual wink. “But it’s yours now.” I put the key in the lock and twisted it. “We aren’t playing basketball,” I told Luke. “I want to show you something.”
Next to the second-floor equipment room was a locked door, and inside was a staircase that led up to an attic of sorts. Said attic was used as a storage room for extra uniforms and equipment, old trophies, and an assortment of other random crap. And just above the attic was the roof, stars were visible through a couple of skylights. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights,” I said once we reached the top of the stairs. I switched on my iPhone flashlight, on the hunt for a ladder.
“No, I don’t haveacrophobia,” Luke replied. “So I’m game.”
