Page 36 of Falling Like Snow

Asher shakes his head. “Because it usually somehow comes up in conversation, and it didn’t this time.”

“You got pizza.”

“Uh, yeah? Daphne said she was hungry and ordered it,” he says slowly. “I didn’t realize eating was an issue or I would have starved to death for you.”

“Shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Well, I’m confused.”

I sigh. “You didn’t invite us to stay.”

“While I tutored?” he asks, like I’m making no sense.

“I don’t know. I figured you had to be close to being done since you were already thirty minutes past your session time. I thought you’d want to hang…”

Listening to myself is cringe-inducing. I sound like some sort of whiny, possessive girlfriend or something.

“Okay, well, then I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to stay while I tutored,” he says.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I was being stupid. Clearly, I was just getting sick.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his brow is furrowed like he’s deep in thought.

“Are we okay?” I ask him.

“Are we ever not okay?” he says, still not looking at me.

“That’s a nonanswer.”

Finally, his features relax and his eyes find mine. “I disagree. It’s me pointing out that we’re always okay, and we always will be. Because we’re us.” He pauses. Then: “That is, unless you’re mad at me.”

I nudge his thigh with my foot. “Never.”

The front door opens, cold creeping in as Mom arrives.

“Sloane?” she calls before setting her bags on the floor and spotting us on the couch. “Oh, hey, I found a visitor outside.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. Just then, Micah pops his head into view, and I freeze.

What the hell is Micah Cook doing in my house?

I’ve worked hard to put his text out of my mind. But now that he’s standing in front of me, it’s all I can think about.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” Mom says, looking between the three of us before climbing the steps.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Micah says, taking in Asher and me on the couch, watching TV in the dim light of the table lamp. I hurry to sit, distancing myself from my best friend. Because what if Hannah was right and our close friendship does scare off guys?

And then I remember I still have snotty tissues shoved in my nostrils.

Ugh.

I quickly pull them out and toss them in the gross pile of used tissues already beside the couch.

“No, I was just leaving,” Asher tells him. He stands and turns to me, offering a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I brought over the shirts,” Micah says, pulling my focus to him as Asher heads for the door. He gestures to the bags he and Mom set down in the entryway.

My jaw falls. “You’re done already?”