Page 40 of Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls #1)

When I walk into lunch on Thursday, Slug is in my usual seat beside Jake.

Until today, I’ve continued sitting there while Cooper’s kept his distance, sitting next to Chloe a little ways down our table, just like he used to do when he was avoiding me.

Because even though things are different, Cooper and I decided not to subject Jake to seeing us together.

The whispers around the school are probably misery enough for him.

“Get out of my seat,” I say to Slug.

Slug glances at Jake before saying, “It’s my seat now. You can go sit over there.” He nods at his usual spot across from Jake.

“Wait…” I draw my eyebrows together and turn to Jake. “Do you not want me to sit by you anymore?”

He’s been quiet this week, but we’ve been okay. At least I thought s o.

“No. I want you to sit over there,” he says, nodding across the table.

I press my lips together. I hate this. But Jake gets whatever he wants right now, and if that means space from me, then it is what it is. Still, my heart feels like it’s being stabbed with a thumbtack.

I’m on my way around the table when I hear Cooper behind me. “What’s going on?”

I look over my shoulder, where Cooper’s standing across from Jake with his lunch. He glances at me, then back to Jake.

“Come on, dude, don’t do that to her,” Cooper says.

Jake rolls his eyes and sighs. “I’m not doing anything to her, Cooper. Sit down.” He motions at the seat across from Slug.

“Uh, no, I’m sitting down there. I just—”

“Wanted to make sure I wasn’t upsetting your girlfriend. Got it,” Jake says. Cooper’s cheeks turn pink. “But it looks like your seat is taken anyway. So sit.”

Wouldn’t you know it, one of Chloe’s friends is sitting in Cooper’s typical seat.

It’s almost like it’s all planned.

Cooper and I look at each other, uncomfortable. Then we sit.

“Perfect,” Jake says. “Now, this is what’s going to happen every day until Ellis leaves.”

“What?” I ask.

“I’m tired of you guys walking on eggshells around me,” Jake says.

“I appreciate you trying not to throw it in my face, but I can’t take the awkward lunches anymore.

Just sit there. Talk. Eat. Be normal. Please.

” He grins. “Believe me, I’m not anywhere near how pathetic Cooper was after you left when you were kids. ”

I give him a weak smile because it’s all I can muster, and Cooper nods. Acting like everything is normal is hard, even if he’s asking for it.

But again, it’s what he wants, so we try.

After lunch, Cooper follows me to my locker. He glances around as I put in my lock combination, then gives me a quick peck on the lips.

“Hey, we agreed no PDA,” I say.

“I couldn’t help it, and it’s a terrible rule,” he says, his dimple sinking into his cheek. “You’re leaving in a couple of weeks. We should be kissing as much as possible before then.”

“Hmm. You have a point.”

He leans in and kisses me again. “A good one.”

“Okay, but I’m going to be late for class, so go away,” I tell him, grinning. “I’ll bring your cookie costume over after school.”

“You finished it?”

“Well, no, not yet. But almost, and I’m dying to show you what I have so far,” I tell him. “It’s fantastic , and you are going to look fantastic in it.”

He laughs. “I’m scared.”

“Oh, you should be.”

He smiles as he walks backward away from me. “See you in econ, Mitchell.”

This whole week has felt like a dream. A busy dream, but a dream nonetheless.

Cooper and I have worked on his truck until ten p.m. almost every night—although, admittedly, a good chunk of that time has been spent sneaking kisses and subtle touches.

Sloane and Asher came over to his place Tuesday to help build and paint the gingerbread house while Cooper and I made baked goods out of sheets of colorful foam.

We just have to attach the baked goods to the house and do any other final touches tonight.

Then, other than finishing the costume, we won’t have to worry about parade preparation at all next week.

My next two classes drag on forever, full of note-taking and lectures. Then, finally, I get to go to econ, where Cooper is waiting for me.

He grabs a pencil out of his bag. “I heard we have a pop quiz today.”

My blood freezes. “In here?”

“Yeah.”

I rack my brain for the last time I even looked at my notes for this class. Two weeks ago, maybe?

Mr. Davies knocks his knuckles on the desk as the bell rings. “Everything away except a pencil.”

“Cooper,” I whisper, “I haven’t studied.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Because I study!” Panic grips me.

“Relax, Ellis. You’ve got this.”

Mr. Davies passes out our quizzes, and I take a deep breath. Shoulders back. I’ve got this.

I stare at the ten-question quiz.

I definitely don’t have this.

We have fifteen minutes to complete the quiz before Mr. Davies says we’re moving on, so I do my best to fill in the answers, then turn it in. But I struggle to focus for the remainder of class.

“What can I do for you, Ellis?” Mr. Davies asks when I approach him after the bell rings, after everyone—including Cooper—has gone.

“Um, I know it’s not something you normally do, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to grade my quiz,” I ask. “Now, I mean.”

He must see the worry eating away at me because he walks around his desk and grabs the stack of completed quizzes.

“I’ve been working on stuff for the parade…,” I say, feeling the need to explain myself before he uncovers my failing grade.

“Ah, yes, a hazard of living with your aunt, I suppose,” he chuckles. He pulls my quiz from the pile and examines my answers. “Well, good news. You only missed three.”

I think I might be sick. “So, a seventy percent.”

“Three wrong answers is still decent, Ms. Mitchell.”

I stare at nothing as I nod. “Thank you.”

With my backpack slung over my shoulder and my eyes stinging, I leave the classroom, grab all my books from my locker, and head to the flagpole to meet Sloane, Asher, and Cooper.

“What were you doing?” Cooper asks.

“I got a C,” I mumble, still in disbelief.

“He graded it for you?” Cooper asks, surprised. “Okay, well, it could have been worse, especially if you thought you wouldn’t do well.”

“I don’t get Cs. In fact, I’ve never even gotten a B. Ever. ” I shake my head. “Do you guys think you can handle the float today? I need to study.”

Cooper takes my hand. “Ellis, that ten-point quiz isn’t going to drop your overall grade from an A. You’ll probably have a ninety-nine instead of a hundred.”

“That isn’t the point. I’ve been distracted, Coop. College applications are due soon. I can’t let my grades bomb at the finish line.”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We’ll send you pictures,” Sloane offers.

“Sounds good,” I tell her.

Cooper gives my hand a reassuring squeeze as we climb into the backseat of Sloane’s car.

But nothing can make me feel better right now. I can’t believe I let Columbia fall to the back burner.

I have to get it together.