Page 7 of Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls #1)

Before we parted ways, I wanted to hug him, but I wasn’t sure if that would be weird, so instead I just told him I’d see him next summer.

He’d pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded.

He looked like he was going to cry—by then I’d learned that Cooper was a crier—so I thought it’d be best if I didn’t drag out the goodbye.

When I returned home, we texted nonstop for a while, often late into the night, but then school started, and the texts became less frequent. I don’t remember the last message between us, but I’m certain no one was upset.

I have to be missing something. But I don’t want to ask him because is it more messed up that I potentially did something to upset him years ago or that I don’t remember doing it?

Cooper is out of the room before the bell to switch classes is even done ringing. I sigh, pack up my stuff, and head to lunch.

Back in New York, I go to the library and do homework during my lunch period.

The librarian lets me eat in there with the agreement that I leave without evidence that I’ve ever been there.

I doubt that’ll fly here as the new girl.

So I leave my stuff in my locker and follow the rest of the seniors to the commons.

After grabbing a lunch tray, I walk between tables with the excruciating task of trying to figure out where I’m going to sit among hundreds of people I don’t know.

“New girl,” someone says. I turn my head in the direction of the familiar voice and find Jake grinning at me. He scoots over to make space. “You can come sit with us.”

Jake is surrounded by boys who either nod or simply stare at me. Two of them are muscly and wearing white tees with a Bramble Falls football logo on the chest. A couple of girls smile at me before going back to chatting.

And Cooper is sitting across from him. Because of course they’re friends .

I look around the room for any other familiar faces, but I didn’t talk to anyone else in my morning classes. So I nod and squeeze in next to Jake.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Everyone, this is Ella,” Jake says.

“Ellis,” I say.

“Right. Sorry. This is Ellis,” he says.

“I heard you’re the mayor’s niece,” one of the guys says, licking orange Cheeto residue off his thick fingers. He flicks his head like he’s twitching as he tries to get his ash-brown hair out of his eyes.

“Yep,” I confirm.

“No shit,” Jake says. “You’re Sloane’s cousin?” He takes a bite of his turkey and lettuce sandwich.

“I am.”

He studies me, chewing, then finally says, “You two do have the same eyes.”

“We do,” I say, unsure how to respond to his observation of the only feature I got from my mom.

“She talks a lot more than you,” he says. “Not in a bad way. Sloane rules. I mean, not that not talking is a bad thing either….” I stare at him. “I’ll shut up now.”

The guys at the table laugh, and when Jake blushes, I can’t help but join them.

I push around a cherry tomato on my tray and try not to look at Cooper, even though I swear I feel his gaze on us.

Cheeto Fingers points to my tray. “You gonna eat that or…?”

“Are you saying you want it?” I ask him.

“If you’re not—”

“Don’t take her food, Slug,” Cooper says to Cheeto Fingers. “Give her time to eat.”

I’m torn between thinking it’s sweet that he’s telling his friends to back off my lunch and annoyed that he won’t talk to me but he’ll defend my food.

In any case, my appetite disappears when I don’t sleep, so I grab my apple, then hand my tray to the guy. “It’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” He picks up the grilled cheese sandwich and shoots Cooper a smirk.

“This is Slug, by the way,” Jake says.

“… Slug?” I cock an eyebrow at the nickname. At least I hope for his sake it’s a nickname.

“Slowest guy on the football team,” Jake says. “But he’s a lineman, so it’s fine.”

“I have no idea what that means, but okay,” I say.

“I think we met a long time ago, actually,” Slug says. “During one of your summer visits. Probably went by Brent then, though.”

“Oh?” I rack my brain. “I don’t remember you.”

“Shocking,” Cooper mutters under his breath.

Jake looks at him, confused. “And this is Cooper.”

“We’ve already met,” Cooper tells Jake.

“Oh,” Jake says, peeling an orange. He turns to me. “Didn’t realize you already knew people here.”

“I don’t really,” I say. “At least not anymore.”

Cooper’s amber eyes meet mine as Slug says with a mouthful of bread and cheese, “So, you’re probably stuck helping out with all the fall events, huh? Living with Mayor Sullivan, I mean.”

“It’s seeming that way,” I answer, tearing my eyes from the boy sitting across from me.

Jake pops a slice of his orange in his mouth. “Well, I’m working the register at the orchard this weekend. Coach makes every player volunteer for one fall event, so I figured I’d get it over with. We can be volunteer buddies,” he says, softly bumping me with his shoulder.

“Yeah, okay,” I say, earning me another one of his pearly-white grins.

Jake seems like the popular guy who can talk his way out of bad grades using his charm and good looks—the type of guy I can’t stand—but he does seem nice. And if I’m stuck volunteering anyway, at least I’ll be hanging out with someone who could potentially be a friend.

And Mom does have a point about adding it to my college applications—maybe I can get Aunt Naomi to write a recommendation letter. Then it’ll be worth it, especially because I don’t have a bunch of AP classes and extracurriculars to pad my résumé with here.

I take a bite out of my apple, a sense of calm settling in now that I have a plan.

Bramble Falls might not have a whole lot to help my chances of getting into Columbia, but it does have the Falling Leaves Festival. And I’m going to use that to my advantage.