Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls, #1)(13)

“Hey, new girl, can I borrow a pen?” he whispers.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Who doesn’t bring something to write with on the first day of class?

I reach into my backpack and grab my purple pen with the light purple pom-pom on top and hand it to him, not missing his iceberg-blue eyes set against tan skin. His blond hair is long and styled on top but fades to short on the sides.

It seems Bramble Falls is the secret hub for hot guys.

He looks at the fluffy pen and grins. “Thanks,” he whispers. Then he bites his bottom lip. “Um, can I also have a piece of paper?”

I look at him, deadpan. “Seriously?”

He shrugs, and I tear a piece of paper from my notebook—my notebook filled with purple-lined paper because there’s no reason notes can’t be cute.

“Thank you. Again,” he whispers with a flirty smile. He eyes the paper, then lifts it to his nose. “Is this scented?”

It is. “Shhh.”

“Where’d you get this paper? I need to get some.”

“Yeah, you really do,” I whisper.

He laughs. “I’m Jake, by the way.”

Mr. Beck’s gaze snaps to us. I ignore Jake, and in my periphery he faces the front of the room and leans back in his chair, giving our physics teacher his attention. Or at least pretending to.

I’m pretty sure he’s writing a note on that piece of paper.

The remainder of class passes quickly, and after two more uneventful classes, I walk into calc with my shoulders back, trying to exude a confidence I don’t actually have—one of Dad’s secrets to success.

“Never let people see your weaknesses,” he always says. “Success is all about perception. Put on a smile and fake it till you make it.”

I’m so busy trying to decide if I should sit in the back again or if I should stop hiding and grab a seat up front that I almost don’t notice Cooper sitting in the second row of desks. He’s wearing a pair of cuffed jeans over brown suede boots and a plain gray T-shirt. The kids filing in behind me begin filling the seats, so I move forward, my feet finding their way to the empty desk next to him.

His eyes dart to mine, then travel over my outfit before he averts them. “Ellis.”

“Cooper.” I unzip my backpack and dig a new notebook and pencil out. “I didn’t know you were in this class.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t talk, so why would you?”

I draw my eyebrows together. “And whose fault is that?”

His head whips to me but he says nothing as he stares at me, the muscles in his jaw ticking.

“What’s your problem?” I finally ask.

“The fact that you don’t know says a whole lot,” he replies. He grabs the stuff from his desk, stands, and throws his backpack over his shoulder. I watch as he asks someone to trade seats with him, and a second later he’s sitting next to a blond girl, and a freckly redheaded guy has moved to the seat next to me.

What the hell?



* * *



I spend the rest of class distracted, racking my brain for hints of what went wrong. The last time I saw Cooper before we left that summer, we sat in the meadow at Starglow Summit talking about everything and nothing. He braided my hair—having apparently learned by braiding breads—and we made plans for all the things we were going to do in the future, as if we weren’t closing the book on summer. As if I weren’t leaving Bramble Falls.

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.