Page 28 of Falling Into You

Rory:

I HATE YOU

Layla:

YOU LOVE ME

“Um... it looks like I do need a ride after all,” she said.

Jacob smiled. “After you, oh captain, my captain.”

Rory rolled her eyes and led the way.

“Okay, do you want to make a scary pumpkin or a silly pumpkin?” Rory asked the little boy sitting next to her at the table. Brian was an adorable seven-year-old with big brown eyes, a flop of brown hair over his forehead, and a SpongeBob SquarePants sweatshirt. He was also a patient in the children’s ward of the local hospital where Rory volunteered. She wasn’t sure what he was in for, but she hadn’t met him before, so he was a new patient. And even though she, Gwen, Layla, and the rest of the volunteers had gone all out decorating the common room with pumpkins, skeletons, bats, and witches, Brian seemed totally untouched by the festive mood.

“I want to make an angry pumpkin,” he answered, andlooked at her with a challenge in his eyes. Clearly he thought she was going to tell him that “angry” was not an appropriate emotion for a Halloween pumpkin. Like she would ever tell a seven-year-old who had to be in the hospital it was inappropriate to feel angry.

“That is anexcellentidea,” she said, nodding. “Let’s paint the angriest face we can imagine.”

Brian gave her the briefest of surprised smiles, then dipped a paintbrush into the black paint and painted two diagonal eyes, tilted down toward the center, onto his small, round pumpkin. He looked up at Rory for her approval.

“Those are perfect. Keep going and call me if you need anything.” She gave his little shoulders a squeeze, then got up to check on the rest of the group.

There were about twelve kids participating in this year’s pumpkin painting activity, three to each long table so that no one shared germs. All the volunteers were masked, and she, Layla, and Gwen had painted silly mouths onto their face coverings. Gwen’s was a smiley face with a tongue sticking out the side. Layla’s looked like a big, black carved pumpkin grin with one tooth. Rory had painted red kissy lips on hers.

“How’s everybody doing?” Rory called out.

The response was a round of “good” and “fine” as the kids continued to concentrate on their painting. Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” played at a low volume in the background, and parents stood around the periphery of the room, chatting and snapping photos. It was as much of a break forthem as it was for the kids—an hour to be social and watch their children have fun and not worry about illness for a bit.

Layla strolled over from the far corner, and Gwen stood up from where she’d been crouching next to a little girl who wore a fairy costume and a blond wig.

“This is going well. No tears so far,” Layla commented under her breath.

“That little girl, Allie, came close,” Gwen said, sliding her eyes toward a tiny girl who painted while sitting in her mother’s lap. “But then her mom told her she could try as many pumpkins as she needs until she gets it the way she wants it.”

There was a pile of discarded pumpkins on the floor next to the mom’s foot. Rory was suddenly very glad she’d overordered. She could not handle any meltdowns this time around.

Last year there had been a particularly rambunctious child who had gotten up in the middle of the party and slashed red paint across the faces of all the in-progress pumpkins. The fallout had taken them an hour to repair, ending in bribes of extra apple juice and doughnuts to all the offended artists.

“So we haven’t talked about last night’s game,” Layla said, turning to face Rory. “Jacob was very muchnota disaster.”

“Well, he did almost drop me during the Woodmont chant,” Rory pointed out, feeling stubborn about that point. Though, honestly, it had been a very small wobble. And at the end of the night, she’d actually felt proud of Jacob, as wellas of herself and the rest of the team for getting him so far in two days.

“Key word beingalmost,” Layla said.

Gwen nodded. “I was impressed. Remember how long it took for me to learn all the chants?”

Rory met Layla’s gaze.Way too long,they were both thinking.

“Thanks again for bailing on me and leaving me alone with him,” Rory told them. “That was not at all awkward.”

“I saw how he helped you carry the poms to the shed,” Layla said in a leading way. “Which was nice, since Tucker and his friends took off before the game was over.”

Rory felt a blush creep up her neck. It had been sweet that Jacob had offered to help when no one else had. And those comments he’d made about making her happy... and about liking her face... She hadn’t told her friends about any of it, and she wasn’t about to. These were things she wanted to keep to herself to ponder endlessly and obsessively. At least for now.

“What are you trying to say, Layla?” Rory asked, not sure she actually wanted an answer.

“Nothing. Just that—”