Page 21 of Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls #1)

The diner is packed by the time we arrive. Our group of eight is finally seated after waiting twenty minutes. Another ten minutes later, Jake and Slug show up fresh off their win, showered and grinning. Sloane made sure to leave the chair next to me open, so Jake snags it.

As I’m sure she intended.

“Well, how terrible was your first football game?” he asks me.

“You know, I had no idea what was happening, but I had fun.”

“I knew you would.” He takes a sip of my milkshake.

“You picked a good first game. Homecoming is always a blast.” I give him a smile, but it dims as I remember that I have to break the news to him about the dance.

The idea of telling him now and ruining the buzz from the win seems shitty, but would waiting until the end of the night be any better?

At least if I tell him now, he’ll be able to shake it off with his friends. There’s no good option.

I sigh, pushing down the resentment I feel toward my dad for putting me in this position. “Speaking of homecoming…”

“Not sure how I feel about that tone.” Then he smiles like he’s joking when he says, “Are you backing out on me?”

I stare at him.

“Oh.” His smile falls, and he runs his hand through his wet hair. “Um, okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Jake. It’s just that a really big opportunity came up. My dad called earlier, and he set up a meeting in the city with an admissions guy from Columbia.”

“On a Saturday night?” he asks, clearly not believing me.

“I can’t meet during the week now that I’m living here, so that’s when the guy said he could sit down with me. I swear I didn’t pick the time. The scheduling was out of my hands.”

Jake looks at the table. “Okay.”

Ugh. I am the world’s biggest jerk.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Really.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugs. “I get it.”

Chloe, oblivious to our conversation, comments on Jake scoring three touchdowns tonight, and he turns to talk to her. Probably so he doesn’t have to talk to me. I run my finger down the condensation on my water glass, my mood completely tanked.

I sense someone watching me, and when I raise my eyes, Cooper’s staring. And he looks pissed .

I arch an eyebrow at him, silently asking why he’s looking at me like that. With a tight jaw, he shakes his head and looks away.

What could I have possibly done this time? Did he hear my conversation with Jake? Is he mad at me for not going to homecoming?

A server arrives with our food, and I try to push Cooper’s scowl to the back of my mind as the night turns into laughter and chatter.

Over the next hour, Jake makes a show of bouncing back, sucking down three milkshakes and cracking jokes.

But I get the sense he’s just putting on a front, and it makes my stomach twist with guilt.

The diner grows louder as more post-game groups arrive, and everyone is having a good time.

Slug asks out a sophomore he meets at the jukebox.

Asher shows up and sits next to Sloane and Preeti, and when “Party in the USA” comes on, he stands on his chair and sings along.

Soon everyone is laughing and belting the lyrics.

Everyone except me. Because I can’t get out of my own head.

I know how important this interview is, but it doesn’t make me feel any better about skipping out on Jake.

I excuse myself and weave through the crowd on the way to the bathroom, desperate for a few minutes alone, somewhere that I don’t have to plaster on a smile and pretend I’m not reeling about disappointing my friend.

I lock myself in a stall and let out a deep breath as I lean against the wall, taking a moment to decompress.

My phone buzzes, and I dig it out of my pocket to find an Instagram notification—Fern’s latest post, showcasing a new dumpling place in Chinatown.

I’m suddenly so homesick for our Thursday night dinners at Nom Wah that tears prick at the back of my eyes.

I tap the heart on her photo, and I can’t help but notice I’m the eight thousandth like.

For some reason it makes me feel even more disconnected from her.

I try to shake off my worry that our friendship won’t endure the distance between us, and I send her a DM letting her know I’m coming home this weekend. I slide my phone back into my pocket, unlock the door, and head back out to my friends.

But as I’m leaving the women’s restroom, I run into Cooper heading toward the men’s.

He stops in the hallway in front of me, and I wait for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I give him a close-lipped smile and step around him because, honestly, he hasn’t acknowledged me for the last hour, and I already feel shitty enough without having to worry about what his problem is.

But just as I’m passing him, he says, “How could you do that?”

I stop and turn to him. “How could I do what?”

“Cancel on him like that? The night before the dance.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see how messed up that is?”

“I didn’t have a choice. My meeting—”

“You always have a choice. You say, ‘Actually, I have homecoming that night. Can we meet next weekend?’?”

“It’s not that simple.” My dad would have died on the spot if I’d said that. Putting a dance before a Columbia meeting? Ridiculous. And what if rescheduling meant losing the meeting altogether?

“It is. And worse, you don’t even seem to feel bad about it.”

“Of course I do. It’s just… this is important, Cooper.”

“So is Jake!” he snaps. His cheeks turn pink, and he lowers his voice. “He likes you. Don’t you get that? He’s a good guy, and he was so pumped about you saying you’d go with him. He blew up the group chat for days about it.”

“You don’t understand.” My voice breaks, and I’m afraid if I say any more, I might start crying.

He shakes his head. “It’s a shitty thing to do, Ellis.”

I stand there, pressing my lips together to keep my chin from trembling, hating the way he’s looking at me.

“And yet it’s not surprising,” he says before carrying on and pushing through the bathroom door.

My stomach clenches. I don’t want to be here anymore. I take a few breaths before heading over to Sloane.

“I’m going to walk back,” I tell her once I reach the table.

“Why? What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.” I give her my best fake smile, emulating Dad’s Work Smile.

Jake ends his conversation with Slug mid-sentence and turns to me. “You’re going? I’ll walk you home.”

“No, stay. Eat. Have fun,” I tell him. I feel guilty enough as it is.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m really sorry again about homecoming.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll make it up to me later,” he says with a wink.

I ruffle his hair, trying to keep things light even though I feel anything but. “I’ll see you Monday. Have fun tomorrow.”

“Text me so I know you made it okay!” Sloane calls as I head out.

Shrouded in darkness, I walk down Saffron Lane and let myself cry.

If only I could list messing up friendships under the skills section of my résumé.

My overnight bag is packed and ready to go by the next afternoon.

I’ve printed out my résumé and steamed the perfect gray Veronica Beard pantsuit for my meeting—this time I’m leaving the Ellis originals out of it and wearing a crisp Theory button-down.

I stayed up late studying potential admissions questions and preparing answers even though I know this isn’t an interview.

I’m going to make Dad proud and hopefully secure my place at Columbia.

The bus leaves in an hour, so I lug everything downstairs, ready to go. But instead of Sloane waiting in the living room to drive me to the bus station, Mom is there.

“Can we talk?” she asks.

I set my bag down. “Okay…”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” she says bluntly.

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “How is a college meeting a mistake?”

“It’s not. But skipping this dance is.”

“God, what is with everyone and this dance?” I groan.

“I don’t want you to regret missing it.”

“Uh, I’d be far more worried about missing an opportunity to meet with Columbia admissions because I went to a high school dance,” I tell her.

“I can call your dad and have him talk to his friend about resched—”

“Don’t you dare, Mom. I’m going to this meeting. You already forced me to come here. I refuse to let you take away every shot I have at getting into this school. Just stop it. I’m going.”

Mom stands. “Fine. It’s your life. But I’m telling you, it’s a mistake.”

“It’s my mistake to make.” I grab my bag and head out to the car, where Sloane is already waiting.

“Ready?” she asks.

I get in the car, and we drive to the bus station.

She doesn’t say anything about me skipping the dance. She doesn’t mention me bailing on Jake. But she doesn’t need to. I know my cousin is thinking exactly what everyone else is thinking.