Page 5

The person must not have heard me because a minute later, I hear heels clacking on the concrete floor. I sigh, pushing my legs out to roll out from under the car. “I said just a minute.”

My voice has more bite than I intend for it to; it usually does, but the face that stares back at me is all smiles.

“I heard you; I just decided not to listen.”

Sonnet stands above me with one hand on her hip and the other holding a smoothie, blueberry by the looks of it. She holds it out to me, her smile wavering for a split second. “Truce?”

I stand and take it from her, immediately taking a sip. “Blueberry and banana, you haven’t forgotten after all.”

She scoffs and turns to sit in one of the shop chairs. “Please, you used to order that so much, I think it’s seared into my brain.”

“Still do.” Maple Lane Cafe doesn’t only make coffee. It also makes the best damn smoothies I’ve ever tasted, and I’ve had one nearly every day since I learned to drive.

She hums and brings her own coffee up to her lips, taking a sip before leaning down and grabbing some papers from her purse. “Has Otto spoken to you at all?”

“Should he have?” Otto and I talk almost every day, but by the look on her face, he hasn’t spoken to me about the right things.

Her hand reaches out to hand me the papers, shaking them around when I don’t immediately grab them. When I do, the front page tells me exactly what’s got her panties in a twist.

A teaching position at Maple Lane Falls High. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Her eyes widen as she nods, silently agreeing with me even if she doesn’t verbalize it. “Mr. Jackson asked for you specifically.”

“He’s still alive?” The man is older than some of the buildings in this town.

She snorts, and a little coffee dribbles from her nose. “Jesus, Miles! That’s so rude!”

I shrug and start to flip through the packet of papers. “You were thinking it, I just had the balls to say it.”

“Balls, schmalls.” She whispers it, but nothing she ever says escapes me.

Just like when she told me a few days ago that she didn’t hate me. It gave me hope. Stupid, ridiculous hope. I’ve been in love with Sonnet Levine since we were kids. Ever since she ran into me with paint covering her face, and I punched the quarterback of the football team for making fun of her second-hand clothes.

I continue to look through the papers as if I hadn’t already made up my mind. Working at the school during the day means working late here at the shop, but it’s worth it. The school is willing to pay a decent salary, and I’ll be closer to Sonnet during the day. Teaching high schoolers isn’t going to be any fun, but if I remember correctly, the garage in the school is right next to the art building. She’ll be right there if I need her.

I’ll be right there if she needs me.

I close the packet and toss it on top of Betsy, looking over at Sonnet as I do. She’s pulled out her sketchbook and pencil; her head tilted to the side as she shades something on the paper.

She’s adorable.

Soon she’ll be adorable while also being mine.

“I’ll do it.”

Her pencil clatters to the ground as her head shoots up. “What?”

Shrugging, I walk over and pick up the pencil and hand it to her. “Tell Jackson I’ll do it. Do you mind carpooling?”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she nods. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

I give her a smile, catching her even more off guard. “Great. Six thirty sound okay?”

Sonnet is scowling when she picks me up on Monday morning. Her purple and black hair is thrown into a bun on the top of her head, and her sweater hangs halfway off one shoulder, but she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

Seven years. No longer is she the girl I fell in love with, but now the woman I have to earn back. It doesn’t matter that she read the situation wrong with that girl back in high school. I shouldn’t have let myself get in that position in the first place. Not when I knew what that girl did to Sonnet. It is my fault our friendship was ruined.

I refuse to think that’s where our story ends, though.