Page 13 of Falling Like Leaves
Sloane throws her arm over my shoulder. “And long enough for Ellis to go to school with us. Isn’t that exciting, Coop?”
What an instigator.
I can’t read his expression—shock mixed with a pinch of dread, maybe?
He doesn’t reply before my mom says, “Maybe you two will have some classes together.”
His eyes lock on mine. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Sloane turns to me. “I’ll give you a tour Tuesday morning and show you where the office is.”
“Thanks.”
Sloane is only a junior, so I’ll be on my own this week if Bramble Falls High is anything like my old school, where the grades are in different halls and rarely interact.
The doorbell rings.
“Come in!” Aunt Naomi shouts.
My head whips to her. People just invite people into their homes here without checking who’s at the door first?
A short, plus-sized Black kid with fun blue hair, a nose ring, and aTHEY/THEMbutton pinned to their red Cheesylicious uniform walks in carrying two pizzas.
Their eyes wander over the boxes and decorations until they find Aunt Naomi hidden among the mess. They grin. “You want this in the kitchen, Naomi?”
“I’ll take them,” Cooper offers, grabbing the pizzas. “What’s up, Sterling?”
“Just living the dream,” they reply with a wide grin.
Sloane steps forward and hands them money. “You want a piece for the road?”
“Thanks, but naw, I’m pizza’d out,” they say with a wave of their hand.
“There’s no such thing,” Sloane insists. “But okay.” Sterling tries to hand her change, but Sloane pushes it back toward them. “Keep it.”
“Thanks,” they say.
“Sterling, this is my cousin Ellis. She’ll be going to school with us,” Sloane tells them. “Ellis, this is Sterling. They’re a junior.”
I offer them a smile. “Nice to meet you, Sterling.”
“You too.” Sterling sticks their hands in their pockets and turns to the group. “Well, I gotta get going on the next delivery. Good luck with the decorations, everyone. See you next weekend, Naomi.”
“Thanks, Sterling,” Aunt Naomi says.
“So, what event is happening next weekend?” I ask after Sterling leaves and everyone is making their way to the kitchen for pizza.
“Saturday is apple picking at the Vanderbilt Orchard,” Aunt Naomi says with excitement.
I nod as I place two pieces of cheese pizza on my plate. “Cool.”
“Are you going to come?” Sloane asks. “We can always use more volunteers to work the registers, give tours, help people pick apples, load cars, or show attendees where the bathrooms are….”
I stop with my pizza halfway to my mouth. “Oh, um, I don’t know. I mean, starting at a new school is a lot. I might need to see how this week goes first.”
Mom’s face oozes with disappointment.
“Makes sense,” Sloane says. She takes a bite of her pizza.
