Page 72 of Past the Broken Bridges

When the silence stretches on, she slowly nods. I can’t help but sense the hurt on her face when she drags her textbook back to her. “I guess those are the skeletons you were talking about.”

Suddenly, my appetite is gone.

* * *

A bottle of water appears in front of me, shaking until I sit up from where I’m resting on the desk. I knew it was going to be a long day when I woke up this morning feeling like lead weighed my limbs down. I slept past two alarms and was barely able to peel myself out of bed. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this weight on my shoulders, and I know part of it has to do with the guilt of hurting Dixie’s feelings. I haven’t heard from her in two days.

I rub my eyes and look up at Banks. “What is this for?” I ask, voice hoarse from the slight cough I woke up with. I raided the medicine cabinet that my father stocked with cold medication before he left on move-in day. A few people from my classes have been fighting colds, so I knew it was only a matter of time before I caught one too.

Lack of sleep and a worn-down immune system will do that to a person.

“You need to drink,” he tells me, setting the cold bottle onto my desk.

I frown at it. “Ineedcoffee,” I grumble, twisting the cap off and taking a sip.

From behind his back, he also produces a bottled cold brew. Myfavoritecoffee. “I figured as much when I saw you drooling on your laptop.”

I sit up and swipe the back of my hand along my mouth. “I don’t drool!”

He chuckles, passing me the caffeine before taking his seat. “I don’t know, Birdie. I’m pretty sure I saw your computer short-circuiting.”

Birdie.The playful tone makes things feel normal between us.

Sniffling, I grab a tissue and wipe my nose as discreetly as I can. “I don’t get how you’re not sick. There are at least five people out in our class alone with whatever this is.”

Banks stretches his legs out, studying me. I want to hide my red nose, flushed face, and glassy eyes, but he’s been looking at me since I walked into the room. The second he kicked my chair out for me to sit, he knew I wasn’t okay.

“I’ve always had an iron immune system,” he answers. Crossing his arms over his chest, he shrugs. “Can’t remember the last time I got sick.”

Must be nice to be God’s favorite.

“What about you?”

I look at him. “What?”

“Were you the sick kid?”

My stomach drops. “Why?”

His brows go up at the slight rise to my voice, which gives me away. “It was just a question. My mom would get sick any time someone around her did. I take after my dad.” His lips twitch, eyes dimming. “When it comes to staying healthy, anyway.”

Playing it off, I grip the coffee. “Out of my brother and me, I’m usually the one who gets stuck with all the problems.”

He makes a thoughtful noise. “Bummer.”

I simply nod, unwilling to elaborate on just how unlucky I really am.

“Is your family coming to see you over break?” he asks. I’m grateful for the subject change. “I know you were looking forward to seeing Bentley.”

Smiling at the sound of my brother’s name, I move a piece of hair behind my ear. “I think my mom is going to pull him out of school for the week to visit.”

“Shit,” Banks praises. “I wish my parents would have done that whenever I wanted to go on vacation.”

It’s hard to keep my smile when I know the reason why she’s making the time to come out. But I choose not to tell him any of that either. Like he said, some secrets will always be under lock and key. “We’re close,” I tell him. “It’ll be good to see them.”

Fidgeting with my laptop so I evade his wandering gaze, I pull up a random page and scroll through the news articles.

Banks clearly wants to keep talking. “I have a familyrecipe for chicken noodle soup. Maybe I can make it for you this weekend.”

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