Page 24 of A Million To Fall

“Oh, uhh, yeah, it’s… it’s…” I stammer, my face hot. I wasn’t paying attention. Neither to Genevieve’s Hamlet presentation nor the discussion after.

It’s Friday. Book report day. And Boston wasn’t here. Again.

It’s been days since he’s shown up to class and just as long since he’s responded to Jake’s and my text messages. And yeah, we’re getting worried.

All day, I’ve been trying to convince myself there’s a perfectly good reason for Boston’s absence, but that weird hollow feeling in my chest just won’t subside.

I’m the first to storm out of the classroom the second the bell rings, eager to find Jake and get an update.

A startled squeak escapes me when a hand closes around my wrist and pulls me behind the door. I only know it’s Archer by the scent of his expensive cologne because a single pink rose fills my vision. I take it and giggle.

“Where’d you get a flower?” Certainly not from outside. We got like four inches of fresh snow last night.

“I plucked it from a bouquet on Mrs. Bowman’s desk,” he says with a mischievous grin. “The flowers were so beautiful, they reminded me of you. Fuck, I missed you.”

I smile. “But we just saw each other before class.” And every waking minute before that.

He chuckles. “Yeah, well, I might be slightly obsessed with you. I can’t stand the idea of anyone else getting even an ounce of your attention.”

“Not even the teacher?”

“Anyone,” he says without even the ghost of a smile. Then, like a switch flips, his expression softens. “You excited for dinner tonight?”

I nod. “Excited and nervous.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about. My parents already love you.”

He relieves me of my bag, then leads me to my locker.

Jonathan, Pacey, and Lily are already congregating.

“Okay, so bad news: my parents won’t let me go to Afton unless there’s an adult with us,” Lily says about this snowboarding trip we’ve been chatting about all week.

“Mine won’t, either.” As soon as I told them it was an overnight trip with boys in attendance, the discussion was over.

“Aww, man,” Pacey whines. “What do they think’s gonna happen?”

Jonathan laughs. “You.”

“I bet I could get Lane to tag along,” Archer says of one of his older brothers.

“It’s football season. Isn’t he playing right now?” Pacey asks.

I’ve never met Lane. All I know is he’s nineteen and the kicker for the University of Pennsylvania football team.

Archer shrugs. “Yeah, but—”

“Guys!” Jake shouts, skittering to a halt in front of us.

“What’s happening, man?” Archer asks, an arm slung over my shoulder.

“I can’t find Boston,” Jake pants.

Jonathan frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Skye and I haven’t heard from him. Since Monday.”

I nod. “He hasn’t been in any of our classes.”