Page 70 of Past the Broken Bridges

I stroll toward her and press a single kiss against the underside of her jaw. In a teasing tone, I say, “Try not to fall in love with me along the way, Birdie. I’d hate to break your heart.”

Her body locks up for a brief second before she uses her hands trapped between us to grip the front of my shirt. “Funny. I was going to say the same to you.”

I stare at her when I hear how off her tone is, noticing the fresh glaze in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She pushes me away just far enough to slide off the counter, turning to give me her back as she swipes at her eyes. Then I hear, “I’m fine.” Her voice breaks as she grabs the knife. “It’s the onions.”

Chapter Nineteen

Sawyer

Dumping my bag of Skittles out onto the library table, I sort the different colors into piles while Dixie jots down notes from her sociology textbook. “This may be the driest class I’ve ever taken,” she complains. “I should have taken creative writing with you and Banks. It sounds way easier.”

I thought it’d be a cakewalk, but when I got back my first short story and saw the comments marking the margins, I realized I was wrong. Very wrong. “It would be easier if the professor didn’t have favorites.”

Dixie looks up from her notebook, clearly amused by my grumbly tone. “Is this about Banks again?”

When I asked him at lunch the other day if he’d finished his assignment yet, he told me hestillhadn’t started. “He admitted to me that he wrote ittwo hoursbefore class and still got an A. I spent a week on my story only for Professor Grey to tell me there’s an emotional disconnect. What does that even mean?”

When he told us to write our short story based on something personal to us, I had no idea what to write about. The obvious choice was ruled out by pride, which left me at square one.

Making something up.

“Did you read his?” Dixie asks. “Maybe if you saw what he did, it can help you for the next assignment.”

Ask to read it?Something tells me that would feed Banks’s ego, knowing he did better than I did after I spent days on mine.

“No way,” I reply, popping a red Skittle into my mouth. “Then he’ll want to read mine, and that’s out of the question.”

“Why?”

“Because I made the whole thing up, but he doesn’t know that,” I admit. “When the professor told us to write something personal, I figured I could write about a relationship ending because everybody goes through that. Well…almost everybody.”

Skepticism takes over her face. “You’ve never gone through a breakup? EvenIhave, and I barely talk to boys unless a copious amount of alcohol is consumed.”

Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I slowly shake my head. “I’ve never really dated, unless you count that one time in middle school.”

Dixie blanches. “I wouldn’t.”

I lean back in my chair. How can I explain the reason for my lack of experience without outing myself?

Don’t we all have secrets?

Mine is a big one, and I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to write about it.

“Do you have your story?” she asks, pushing her book away and dropping the topic. “If I read another sentence inthis textbook, my brain might explode. I need new reading material.”

My nose scrunches. “It’s obviously not very good. Your brain might still explode.”

She laughs, reaching out her hand and making a gimme motion. “I’ll take my chances.”

Making a face, I dig out the assignment and pass it over. I don’t bother watching her as she reads it, too afraid of what her face might say.

Distracting myself with the view of the quad out the window, I people watch until I see a familiar gentle giant.

Dawson is walking next to two guys who seem to be having an intense conversation with him, digging into their pockets and smacking whatever they pull out into his chest. One of them has a tattoo sleeve and biceps bigger than my head, making Dawson stumble backward with the force of whatever he’s given. He captures it before it falls, quickly studying his surroundings before tucking it into his bag.

The tattooed guy steps up to him, getting in his face. Are they going to fight? I hope not, since Dixie said Dawson just got his stitches out.

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