Page 48 of Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls #1)

Thanksgiving on Apple Blossom Lane is unlike any holiday I’ve ever had, full of friends and laughter, and family.

Downstairs, Aunt Naomi, Mom, Amanda, and Asher’s mom are yelling over each other in the kitchen.

Aunt Naomi suggested a friendly game of rummy, but it turns out I might have actually gotten my zeal for competition from my mom.

She’s lost the last two games and refuses to serve dinner until she wins.

So Cooper, Sloane, Asher, and I are all hanging out in my room, awaiting our cold mashed potatoes and corn because Aunt Naomi won’t just let her win one .

“I can’t believe you two are working on college applications on a holiday ,” Sloane says as she throws a red shell at Asher in an actually friendly game of Mario Kart. “After the month we’ve had, you should be resting. Like normal people.”

Aunt Naomi extended the Falling Leaves Festival another weekend to capitalize on all the attention Fern’s viral posts were bringing to Bramble Falls.

We had to help organize the continuation of the event, and then we volunteered to fill in for anyone who couldn’t make it again.

I spent two days painting pumpkins and ghosts on kids’ faces while Sloane and Asher handed out mulled cider and Cooper worked his very own Cooper’s Cookies Co. tent.

All the hard work paid off because during that additional weekend, Bramble Falls made more than double what they needed to fund next year’s festival.

Cooper finishes typing something on his laptop, then says, “If we’re going to starve to death, we might as well be productive while we wither away.”

“Oh no. Now you sound like Ellis,” Asher jokes. I throw a pillow at him, causing his Yoshi to fall off a cliff. “Aw, come on!”

“It’s okay. You were going to lose, anyway,” Sloane says to him as she crosses the finish line. Asher gives her a playful shove, and I exchange a knowing look with Cooper.

The last few weeks have flown by. Since the festival ended, I’ve worked relentlessly on creating a portfolio worthy of submitting to FIT, and even though there’s still plenty of time before the application is due, I’m happy with what I’ve come up with.

I realized there’s a story to be told across the designs I made freshman and sophomore year through the new ones from this fall, the shift from oxford shirts to plaid ones a representation of the way my family and foundation shifted under me.

I’ve been working on a few pieces that synthesize the two, including a maxi dress that starts as a crisp white oxford and then blends into draped flannel from the mid-torso down to the floor.

I think I might actually have a shot at getting in.

Dad’s called a few times, but I’m not ready to talk to him.

Last week he left a voicemail saying Mom told him about Cooper and that he’d like to meet him.

He offered for us to stay with him over winter break, but even if Cooper comes with Sloane and me on our touristy trip through the city, I won’t be staying with my dad.

I honestly have no idea if or when I’ll be ready to forgive him—or to see the disappointment on his face when he learns I’m not applying to Columbia. Apparently, getting past wanting to make him happy is going to take some time.

“All right, I can’t take it anymore. Time to snack on those cheese cubes in the fridge,” Sloane says, standing. “And maybe harass your mom about dinner.”

“Please do,” I say, finishing up the portion of the application with my volunteer experiences. Listing the Falling Leaves Festival feels like cheating. I did help out, but I think I benefited more than Aunt Naomi.

“Yeah, I’m really not trying to die on Ellis’s bedroom floor,” Asher says.

He follows Sloane downstairs, and Cooper grins at me, his thick hair flopping over his forehead and his dimple lighting a spark in my belly.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m just really proud of you.”

I smile at him. “Um, why?”

He nods at my computer. “This is a big deal.”

I shrug, even though he’s right. “I guess so.”

He leans in and kisses me—something I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of.

“Okay, break it up, you two.” I pull away from Cooper and turn to find Jake standing in the doorway with a covered dish.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Ham. My mom said if I was going to come here on Thanksgiving, I had to bring something.”

“You can put it in the kitchen,” I tell him.

“Wait!” Cooper says. “Bring it here.”

“O-kay…” Jake carries it over and hands it to Cooper, who sets it on the bed.

I send Sloane a text: Come fast.

Cooper uncovers the dish, and we salivate over the hot sliced ham. Sloane and Asher come jogging into the room carrying a bag of cheese cubes.

“Friendsgiving,” I announce.

We all pile onto my bed and eat straight from the dish while Jake tells us about his drama-filled Thanksgiving dinner, how he’s been texting with Fern nonstop, and how he’s pretty sure he’s going to get his first-ever A—in physics, of course.

Just before we finish off the ham and cheese cubes, Sloane shouts, “Hold on!”

We all freeze, our final bites halfway to our mouths.

“We have to go around and say what we’re thankful for, right?” she says. “It is Thanksgiving after all.”

“Sure. I’ll start,” Asher says. “I’m thankful to be passing Spanish.”

“Amen to that!” Jake says. They clink their cheese cubes together as if they’re glasses. “I’m grateful for my parents—”

“Awww,” I say, impressed by his genuinely sweet answer.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Jake says. “I’m grateful for my parents, whose awesome genes made me look this good.”

I frown at him, and he laughs. Cooper rolls his eyes, and Sloane gives a look that says, Well, he’s not wrong.

“Okay, I’ll go next,” Cooper says. “I’m grateful that I’m surrounded by supportive people… and that Ellis finally came to her senses and fell for me.”

Everyone laughs.

“Sorry, bro. I think that means she actually lost her senses,” Jake quips. I slap him on the arm, and he rubs it, pretending to be hurt.

“My turn,” Sloane says, turning to look at me. “I’m thankful my cousin came to Bramble Falls, despite the shitty circumstances that brought her here.” I smile at her. “I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do without you next year.”

“You’ll still have Asher,” I remind her.

She lays her head on his shoulder and sighs. “I suppose so. He just doesn’t bring as much drama to the table.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” I say.

“Definitely,” Asher says, eyeing the other two boys, and I can’t help but laugh.

I look around at my little group of friends, and my heart pinches.

I don’t know what the future holds—whether I’ll ever be close with Dad again, whether I’ll get into FIT, or whether I’ll have a successful fashion career—but I’m also not as worried about it as I used to be, because I know I have the best friends, who will be there regardless of what life throws my way.

“I guess I’m up,” I say, my voice cracking with the building emotion. “First, I’m beyond grateful for all of you….”

Jake hands me the tissue he used as a napkin. “Here, your eyes are leaking.”

I take it and laugh. “Thanks, Jakey.”

Cooper rubs circles on my back, and before we take our final bites of our Friendsgiving appetizers, I lay my head on his shoulder and add the truest statement I never thought I’d say:

“And I’m so grateful to be able to call both Bramble Falls and New York City home. ”