Page 40 of Falling Like Snow

I have no logical explanation for my unwarranted outburst.

The bell rings, and Hannah clears her throat. “I’ll see you for the game tonight, then?” she asks, shoving her stuff into her backpack, as if she’d like nothing more than to book it out of here. “Unless you’re still not feeling well and want to bail?”

“No. Let’s go. I’ll take a nap after school.”

“Okay. Peace out.” She glances one last time between me and Asher before she darts away.

I gather everything I’ve scattered across the table and put it in my backpack. Asher doesn’t even touch his stuff, leaning back in his seat like he couldn’t care less if he’s late for Spanish.

“You going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you’re going to tell me? Or you don’t know what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know why I yelled at you,” I say.

“Are you mad that I can’t go to the hockey game?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Of course not.”

What am I supposed to say? That I’m not mad he can’t go to the game, but I am oddly bothered that he’s hanging out with Daphne instead?

No. Because that would make me sound… jealous.

Which I’m not.

“Maybe…,” I say, working through my feelings aloud, “it’s that things seem like they’re changing.”

He sits forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m going to a hockey game because some guy asked me to. You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Daphne lately and didn’t even tell me about—”

“You didn’t tell me about Micah making shirts for you,” he interrupts.

“They were just shirts. It didn’t seem like a big deal.”

“Neither did tutoring Daphne,” he says.

“My point is, it’s the first time since, like, first grade that we’re doing separate things—and apparently not telling each other every little detail—and I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“I see… so what you’re saying is that you went a few days without me while you were sick, and now you miss me,” he teases.

I force a playful eye roll as I try to ignore the very real fear that I could lose him to someone else. “Seriously, though, I have no idea why I’m being so dramatic today.”

“I like when you’re dramatic. It keeps things interesting.” He finally puts his stuff in his backpack just as the late bell rings. “As long as you’re not upset with me.”

“Just… promise I’m not being replaced?”

Asher freezes. His gaze locks on mine. “Is that what this is actually about?”

“I told you, I don’t know.” I sigh, slinging my backpack onto my back. “Forget it. I’m clearly a little extra today. Ignore me.”

I try to walk past him, but Asher grabs a strap on my bag and pulls me backward. Standing and stepping into my space, he holds me in place by my shoulders.

“You aren’t replaceable, Sully,” he says, calling me by the nickname he uses only when he’s serious. His voice is somehow soft and firm at the same time, like he wants me to know he’s not mad but also needs me to know he means every word. “You can worry about your grades and finals and studying. You can worry about making sure your mom is happy. You can worry about your dad’s upcoming anniversary. You can worry about what needs to be done for every Bramble Falls festival event. You can worry about Micah’s weird comments and mixed messages. But do not worry about us.”

“Even if you and Daph start dating?” The question burns like acid on my tongue. Am I really that scared of having to share him? Am I seriously that selfish?