Page 48 of Boots & Scars

Everly looked at me, her brows knitting together in concern. "Are you —"

I nodded, cutting her off. "You know," I said, my voice rough from the hangover and something else I couldn't quite name. "I can't remember the last time someone actually..."

"Took care of you?" she guessed, her eyes searching mine.

"Cared," I replied, the word hanging heavy between us.

Everly grinned, a spark of mischief in her eyes. "Is that a thank you?" she asked.

"It's a fuck offplease," I shot back, trying to muster up some of my usual snark. But even I could hear the lack of bite in my words.

We shared a smile, and my heart clenched in a way that felt foreign and unsettling.

"You shouldn't make this a habit," I said, my tone sharp but lacking its usual edge. "Playing Florence Nightingale isn't gonna do you any favors."

"All right," she said, standing up and heading back to the chair to grab her heels. She moved to the door but paused, looking back at me with those big, earnest eyes. "I'm glad you called me, Cooper."

"Coop," I corrected automatically. "You can call me —"

She let out a squeal of excitement that made my head throb even more. "Does that mean we're friends?" she asked, practically bouncing on her toes.

I clutched my head, wincing at the noise. "It means shut the fuck up, killer," I growled.

"I'll see you Monday then?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

I swallowed hard, my throat still sore from throwing up earlier. "Monday," I managed to get out.

She beamed at me before leaving the room, and for a moment, I was stunned. She didn't look at me like I was a monster or some washed-up has-been. And that scared me more than anything because I worried I'd get used to it.

15

Everly

The following Monday was the first official day of spring break, and I found myself walking towards Pandora's Box. Wearing a hoodie and jeans felt strange after so many years in my homeschool uniform. But there was something liberating about it, too. The fabric of my hoodie seemed to hug me in all the right places, as if it was a soft, protective shield against the world.

My thoughts drifted to Cooper. I hadn't seen him since that night, and the memory of his face haunted me. Yet, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again. The idea made my heart skip a beat, as if anticipating something wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

I stepped into Pandora's Box, the familiar chill of the ice rink hitting me. The place was empty, as usual. My footsteps echoed in the vast space, bouncing off the walls and returning to me like a distant memory. I made my way to the skate counter.

When I reached the counter, Zach was there, his eyes narrowing as he saw me approach.

He leaned against the counter, his blond hair tousled in that effortless way that always seemed too perfect to be real. His blue eyes were piercing, like he could see right through me, and his smile was the kind that could charm anyone, or so he thought. He had the kind of build you'd expect from someone who spent their life outdoors, not confined to textbooks and fanfiction like me.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw me but didn't push further.

"You disappointed me," he said, his voice flat and unyielding. "Stood me up Friday night."

I bit my lip, looking down at the worn surface of the counter. "I'm sorry."

He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "I've never been stood up before. Now all the guys at my frat house think you're not real. You'll have to make it up to me."

My mind raced. "And how can I do that?"

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he leaned in even closer. "I'm sure we can think of something. Are you free tonight?"

"Tonight?" I hesitated, my stomach knotting up. "Um, well…"

"Oh, come on," he pressed. "Unless you have some boyfriend you're hiding?—"

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