“Really?”
“Sure.” He smiled faintly. It warmed his whole face, and she had the strangest desire to smooth a thumb across his split lip, or maybe brush a curl from his eyes. She rubbed her fingers together until the itch faded.
“I think I owe you an apology, too,” he said.
“For what?”
“Being a dick. And misjudging you.” He shouldered his backpack and tucked the books under his arm. “The first is just habit. But I don’t have any excuse for the second. Because you’re right. I should’ve known better. Anyway. Thanks. For everything.”
“No problem. Do you want a ride home?”
“Nah. I’ll walk. It’ll take longer.”
He made for the door. Aubrey trailed after him.
Out on the stoop, her uniform did nothing to block the January wind, but she hardly felt the cold. Nick made his way down the creaking wooden steps, then turned. “You’re sure you want me to write to you? Absolutely positive?”
She measured the question. The way he searched her face made it seem like he was asking something else. Like she was standing on some precipice with him behind her, his breath in her ear, asking if she wanted him to push.
“The thing is,” he continued, looking up at her, “words are more personal than numbers. A four is a four is a four, whether it’s here or in Iran or on the moon. But words... Ten different people can use the same word to mean ten different things, and the choice says as much about the message as it does about the person sending it. Words are like windows. They let you see straight into whoever’s writing them. So when you ask for a letter, you’re asking to look. At me.”
Her breath thinned. “I know.”
Those black eyes bored into her, as if willing her to understand. “The thing is, you might regret seeing.”
She pondered that. “I might.”
Strangely, that seemed to satisfy him. He nodded once and turned away. The wind ruffled his curls like it was trying to pull them off his head.
Even after he shrank to a speck, Aubrey still stood there.
She only went inside once she started to shiver.
The next day, Gallant showed up with two black eyes.
Aubrey had expected him to hide the proof of his defeat, but he came right up and leaned against her bank of lockers as if it were just another day.
“Hey, MacLean.”
“Hey.” Pity softened her voice. “How’re you feeling?”
Gallant resorted to his usual cocksure grin. “Better than I look. I mean, the new kid’s clearly some kind of karate freak, but at least everyone knows he cheated during our fight.”
“Cheated?” She busied herself with her combination lock, already regretting offering sympathy. “How would he have cheated?”
“Oh, come on, didn’t you see the way he...”
Whatever he said next turned to mush, because a sheet of notebook paper lay inside her locker. Someone had folded it into thirds and pushed it through the slats.
She snatched at it, yanking it open so quickly it almost tore.
Dear Aubrey,
I couldn’t sleep last night. I wish I could say it was because I regretted, because as a rule, I don’t open up to people. Especially not about the things I told you yesterday. Those were confessions I haven’t made to anyone in years. If ever.
But it wasn’t regret that kept me awake.
The thing is, before I came to Henderson, I assumed this town would be just like the last one. I expected fights, a constant battle to beleft alone. I even expected to have to prove myself on my first day, because of course everyone would need to know where on the food chain I fell.
