Page 49 of Even Exchange

I swallow hard. “For?”

“Being my friend.” She squeezes my hand. “I really need one right now.”

Friend.

“While I’m happy to always be the one you call, are things not good with the girls?”

“No, they’re great.” Charlotte sighs, and I rub my thumb along her knuckles. “They’re fine.”

“You can talk to me about anything,” I remind her, desperate for a look inside her head.

“I guess I always feel like the odd one out. Never the first choice. Sophia has Sage, Stella has Andi, and who do I have?”

Smiling, I brush my knuckles against her cheek. “You have me.”

Her face flushes, and she nuzzles it into my chest. “Okay.”

“Wow,” I tease, wrapping my arm around her and resting my hand on her back. “Suchenthusiasm.”

Are we… snuggling?

She takes my chain between her fingertips, the gold ring andcornicellopendant clinking. “You rarely take this off.”

“Only for practice and games.”

“What’s its story?” she asks. “Andpleasedon’t say there isn’t one.”

I huff a laugh. “My mom gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday.” Lips falling to a frown, I tap my fingers against her back, unsure how much to share. “The horn-shaped pendant symbolizes protection.”

“Is it an Italian thing?” she asks, her hand resting against me while she toys with the necklace.

“Yes, it’s called acornicello. It’s supposed to ward off bad luck or the evil eye.”

“Evil eye?”

“Yeah.” A rock settles in my stomach at the thought of who Mom wants to protect me from. “Like people who are jealous of you or wish you harm.”

“I need one of those.”

“It’s actually bad luck to buy one for yourself,” I tell her, making a mental note. “The protection comes from it being gifted.”

“Well, it’s really cool. Thanks for sharing that with me,” she says softly, the metal jingling together. “And the ring? What’s that symbolize?”

A smile returns to my lips. “That symbolizes mynonnabeing way too invested in my personal life.”

“Go on.” Her eyes light up.

“When I visited Sicily last summer,Nonnakept asking me about my relationship status, or rather, lack thereof.” I laugh, recalling the memory of a playful conversation over learning to make her famousPesto alla Siciliana. “I told her I was focusing on football and it would be a while before I had anything to report.” I place my hand on Charlotte’s, taking the ring between my own two fingers. “Later that day, she gave me this ring to pass on to someone I love when the time is right.” Charlotte’s gaze lingers on the gold band, mine on her. “And she said, ‘Quannu amuri tuppulìa, ‘un lu lassari ‘nmenzu la via.’”

She was very adamant about that.

Charlotte’s eyes light up at the Italian phrase. “Care to translate?”

I gnaw at the inside of my cheek, her attention stripping away my armor. Making me vulnerable. “It means, ‘when love knocks, be sure to answer it.’”

Her thumb grazes my skin. “That’s so beautiful.”

You’re so beautiful.

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