Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls, #1)(47)

Cooper’s dad waves me off with a small laugh. “It’s okay. I can’t tell you how many nights Amanda has fallen asleep in the middle of working on things for the Falling Leaves Festival.”

I look at her. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. It’s an exhausting time of year. There’s always so much to do. We really do appreciate you taking on the scavenger hunt, though.”

“No problem.” I attach the document and send it to Aunt Naomi. Then I put my computer away.

While the bacon sizzles behind me, Cooper’s parents tell me all about next week’s Autumn Spice Sprint—which sounds way too athletic for me—and the Boots and Blankets Bonfire that night. And I tell them all about Cooper’s awful attempts at fall riddles, some of which have them cracking up.

“So, what are your college plans? It’s just about application time,” Cooper’s dad says.

“I’m going to Columbia,” I tell him with confidence. “I’ve already started filling out the application.”

“Oh!” Amanda exclaims. “So you and Coop—”

“Time to go, Mitchell,” Cooper says, swooping in behind me and practically tossing a plate at me. “Bacon for the car.”

“Okay.” I toss my backpack over my shoulder as I stand, then I grab my plate. “It was nice talking to you guys. Sorry again for crashing here.”

“We hope to see you again soon, Ellis,” Amanda says. “Tell Naomi I said hi.”

Cooper and I hop into his truck and scarf down our bacon on the short drive to Aunt Naomi’s. He waits in the car while I change my clothes and brush my teeth. My reflection makes me flinch, but I don’t have time to put on makeup. I wipe the mascara from under my eyes and throw my hair into a messy bun.

I groan. I cannot go to school like this.

I grab my makeup bag—maybe I can put some on in the truck—and run back downstairs, where Mom is sitting in the living room.

“Hi, Mom. Bye, Mom,” I say as I open the front door.

“Wait a second!” she says.

The moment I’ve been dreading. “Yeah?”

“I heard you slept at Cooper’s last night.”

“I accidentally fell asleep working on the scavenger-hunt stuff.”

“Uh-huh…” She stands. “Well, we’ve never really talked about it because I’ve never needed to, since you were so hung up on school rather than boys, but… you know to use a condom, right? Do you need me to show you how—”

“Oh god, Mom!” I scream. “Please stop talking right now.”

She worries her lip.

“It wasn’t like that,” I say. “You don’t have to worry. And if anything ever comes even close to that, then yes, believe me, being friends with Fern has meant learning everything I need to know. Don’t worry.”

She nods. “Okay. Good. Please don’t let it happen again.”

“Okay. Bye.” I make a run for it before things get any more awkward.

“You good?” Cooper asks when I get in the car.

“Uh, other than the fact that my mom wanted to demonstrate how to use a condom, yes.”

Cooper’s face turns a brighter shade of red than I’ve ever seen. “I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that.”

“Perfect. Let’s go.”



* * *



Cooper’s sleeping in calculus.

I try to be inconspicuous when I snap a photo and send it to him with a message that simply says, slacker.

His phone must startle him because his eyes shoot open. He pulls it out of his pocket and holds it under his desk to check the message. His dimple makes an appearance as he reads it and types something.

My phone lights up on my desk.

Summer Cooper: well if someone hadn’t kept me up all night I glance back at him, his ears pink.

Summer Cooper: shit I didn’t mean it like that. obviously.

Summer Cooper: I’m too tired for this conversation. Please ignore me.

I snort.

Half the class—and Ms. Hanby—turns to look at me.

“Would you like to share what’s so funny about derivatives, Ms. Mitchell?” our teacher says.

A thin coat of sweat dampens my face instantaneously. I’ve never gotten in trouble in class. Ever.

“Nothing,” I say. “I was just… sneezing and coughing at the same time. Body malfunction.”

Someone laughs behind me. Cooper.

I press my lips together so I don’t laugh again.

“Well, perhaps you should see the nurse if it happens again,” Ms. Hanby says, glancing from Cooper back to me.

I nod. “Will do.”

Ms. Hanby goes back to walking us through the problem on the board, and I scratch the side of my face with my middle finger.

I grin to myself as Cooper’s muffled laughter fills my whole chest and nestles itself between my ribs.





Chapter Twenty-Two




Between my music and the sewing machine, I don’t hear the doorbell ring the next morning. And I don’t hear the footsteps climbing the attic stairs. I don’t know anyone’s there until someone taps my shoulder.

“Hang on,” I shout over the music. “I have to finish edgestitching this seam real quick.”