Page 47 of Falling

“Let me guess. That’s your usual order,” I say, laughing. She nods.

“Even with Kennedy’s discount, it’s still ridiculous,” Wren replies. “It is the best drink though.”

“I’m a nineteen-year-old student. What makes you think I can afford a seven-dollar coffee?” I spit out, and she laughs, shrugging.

“You said you’d spend the money you have left on me. This is a clear opening,” she argues.

“If we’re playing that game, does the rest of what I said stand?”

She shrugs, avoiding my gaze as she faces forward. “We’ll see.”

“You’re lucky, princess. You are the only exception.”

She shakes her head and snorts, a combination of mannerisms I’m sure she reserves just for me. I nudge her in the shoulder to move forward since we’re next in the line. When Kennedy sees us, she smiles wide, clearly our biggest fan.

“There is my favorite couple,” she cries, leaning on the countertop. “What can I get for you?”

“The most expensive drink you have,” Wren chimes in, smiling at me. I’m going to be fourteen dollars more broke than I was this morning, but if it makes her smile like that, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Kennedy beams, winking at me. “Coming right up.”

We walk out of Florentino’s sipping our drinks and head toward Radnor Hall, where Wren’s classes take place. I’m holding both of our drinks in my hand while Wren hooks one arm into mine, holding her books with the other. It’s probably the most PDA I’ve ever engaged in as I give Wren regular sips of her drink. I swear every time we walk past someone, they do a double take. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this. The stares. The whispers. The looks.

“Hey, I forgot to ask you something,” Wren says after a long stretch of comfortable silence. I hum, and she continues, “My dad’s hosting a charity event at one of his hotels, and he wants us to come. We were talking the other day and I slipped, saying I was seeing someone. He’s excited to meet you.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “He is?”

“Yeah, he likes hockey, and you like hockey. You’ve already got so much in common,” she says, laughing. “It’s a laid-back event, but people get really into it, so you’ll have to wear something nice.”

“Something nice?” I bite out the words like they’ve personally offended me.

“Yeah, a nice suit or something,” she says. She grabs a hold of both our empty cups, throwing them away. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be fun and probably the only time you’d get to meet my dad. He’s pretty busy.”

“You really think he’ll like me?”

I shouldn’t care so much, but I do. Whether it’s fake or not for us, this feels like a big deal, and I can’t mess it up. Wren shrugs. “Yeah, he likes everybody. The only thing is we’ll have to stay the night. It’s a couple hours’ drive, and he doesn’t like the idea of me driving back so far at night. Is that okay?”

“If this hotel is anything like the gym we go to, then hell yeah, I’m in.”

She looks up at me. “Really? You seriously don’t have to go if you don’t want to. It’s just a stupid event and everyone’s going to be?—”

“Hey, I want to go, okay? If you’re just saying that because you don’t want me to go, you can just say that.”

She bites her bottom lip. “I do want you to come.”

“Then it’s settled. I’m going with you.”

She smiles at me, and I don’t know why I’m already feeling nervous. Her dad seems nice from what I’ve heard, but meeting someone's parents is a big thing. The kind of milestone I never reached with my ex.

“Wren! Oh my god. I was just looking for you.” A girl with dark-brown hair rushes toward us as we walk back past the library. The girl I’ve never seen before in my life hooks Wren’s arm into hers, taking her away from me.

“You were?” Wren asks, looking back at me as her friend walks in front of me with Wren in tow.

“Yes! I was trying to find you to talk about the exam we’ve got coming up,” she explains. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Wren turns around, looking at me skeptically, her eyes suddenly wide and unsure. “This is Miles Davis. Miles, this is Katie Buxbaum from my creative writing class.”

“So you guys reallyaredating?” Katie asks, looking between the both of us. We nod. Her eyes narrow for a second before she nods again, slowly. “Cool. So will you guys come to my party tonight, then? It’s a low-key thing, but most people from class are going.”

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