Page 87 of What We Knew Then
“Fine, one song,” I suggest, grabbing the empty glass from her and setting it on the bar, then putting her arms at my shoulders. Mine find her waist.
Cora sways out of rhythm, her balance completely shot. I do my best to keep her steady.
“Whoa,” she mumbles. Her nose wrinkles slightly as she leans toward me. “You smell like hockey.”
“You smell like tequila.”
She thinks about that for a second. “That tracks.”
I exhale slowly. My hands hold her up as we dance. The panic radar in my body is going off. What the hell happened? Also, hopefully the phones stay put away and I’m not paying for this later.
Cora doesn’t say anything while we dance. Finally, when the song is almost over, she rests her head on my chest and it feels like she’s giving in.
When there’s no more music, I hold her hand and say, “Okay, let’s go. We can get french fries.” I try to soften the blow with the promise of salty, fried food.
To my surprise, she starts walking toward the door. I’m still holding her hand and when we get outside, I let out a low breath.
But then she turns toward me, her smile slipping. “I missed my exam,” she quietly admits.
Fuck.
"That’s okay.” I try to offer.
She shakes her head. “No. It’s really not.” Tears well up, making her blue eyes damn near the perfect shade. “I even studied. It was the pink color in my planner last week.”
“We should get out of here. It’s cold. Did you wear a coat?” I rub my hands along her arms.
Cora shrugs her shoulders and starts walking toward my place. I take her hand and spend the entire time making sure she doesn’t fall.
When we get to my apartment, she makes her way right to my bedroom. I grab a Gatorade from the fridge, ibuprofen, and follow her. She’s on her way to passing out after she takes them. I take off her boots, setting them near the door, and watch her curl up on top of the blankets.
“Will you stay with me?” Her voice drips with sadness. Like she doesn’t deserve to even ask for something like that.
It stings.
I don’t know what happened today but there’s no way that someone with a 4.0 has ever missed an exam. This has to be a first.
“Of course.”
The mattress dips and before I can even settle, Cora moves closer. Not like she’s thinking about it but more instinctually.
She turns into me and presses her face against my chest, one arm sliding across my stomach while the other hooks loosely around my bicep, like she’s anchoring herself there. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt.
A small breath leaves her, the kind that sounds like the first real exhale after a long day.
Within seconds, she’s asleep.
Chapter 52
CORA
Thewhippedcreamontop of the sugary mocha is laughable.
“Think that’s enough?” I ask Brinn, who moves behind the coffee counter while making another latte.
She turns, face bright. “Whipped cream makes everything better.”
Piper agrees, “That is a proven fact.” She sips her equally ridiculous latte.
