Page 37 of Fake it ’Til Fall

“Trust falls?”

“Fistfights.”

She laughs.

This time, she doesn’t swallow it.

It comes out quick and honest. For one second, I forget the book, the school board, the video, and the months I spent learning how to feel something without burning the room down.

For one second, I’m just here.

Across from her.

Wanting too much.

Bea calls Daisy’s name from the counter.

Daisy straightens like someone tugged an invisible string through her spine.

The moment is over before either of us can decide what it was.

“Duty calls,” she says, standing with her sandwich still in hand.

“Customer service?”

“Espresso emergency. Very different.”

She takes two steps, then turns back and points at the book. “You have homework.”

“I’m not doing homework.”

“You agreed to the book.”

“I took the book.”

“In the literary world, that’s a binding contract.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It is when witnessed by a dog.”

Puck thumps his tail.

“Biased witness,” I say.

“Still counts.”

She starts to go again, then stops.

Her eyes drop to the romance novel, then to my hands, then back to my face.

For a second, she looks like she might say thank you.

Honestly, I don’t want the thank you.

I wouldn’t know what I’d do with it.

So I scowl first.