Page 146 of Withered

I grin at him, knowing where this is going. “Uh-huh. Sure, you do.”

“I missed you,” he says it, his eyes holding the truth behind his words.

“I missed you even more,” I say when his palm rubs against my cheek. I close my eyes, taking in the gesture.

“I missed my friend too,” he says that, and I open my eyes in confusion.

“What friend?”

His hand slides down slowly, under the cover, and between my legs. “This little one right here.”

Things escalate quickly, and nothing else matters when we’re together.

It’sSunday,soIget ready and head down for breakfast. It’s warm inside the house but chilly outside, so I settle for a warm knit sweater and black jeans.

Mom and Dad are already at the dining table, and from the looks of it, they are deep in conversation. Their frowns turn into a sweet, embracing smile when they see me.

“Morning, Dad,” I say as I kiss his cheek. “Morning, Mom,” I say, kissing her cheek and settling in my chair.

“What are you talking about?” I ask them, then pile pancakes with Nutella instead of maple syrup on my plate. Chocolate is always a safe bet. I also pour myself my favorite litchi juice.

Dad sighs and puts his spoon down.

“Is everything okay?” I ask him, worried about his sudden behavior change.

“I’m fine. It’s about a hospital patient,” Dad answers me.

“What about it?” I ask him, trying to learn more about it. I’ve always enjoyed hearing about hospital patients. Even though I am not physically close to them, I feel a strong connection to them.

“An old lady was moved to our hospital a month ago,” Dad says, leaning back in his chair. “She has lung cancer, which has now gone to her heart.”

“She must be in a lot of pain,” I say.

“That’s right,” he says, nodding. “Her family wants me to do surgery on her, but the chances of success are very slim. She could bleed to death.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” Mom says. “You go and have fun. Try not to think about it.”

She turns to Dad. “You.” She points a finger at Dad, who looks amused, “stop telling her about these things. Let her think about it when it’s her time. Not now.”

Dad laughs it off, then asks, “What about your college application?”

I want to avoid this topic for days. “I haven’t received anything yet.”

“There’s still time. Don’t stress over it,” Mom comforts me.

I eat faster than usual, wanting to get out now. I was so happy to apply. I was even confident about getting the offer, but now I’m wondering if something was wrong with my application. Maybe that’s why it’s taking so long.

I grab my purse and head to Jake’s after breakfast. Jake’s mother, Esme, greets me with a warm hug.

“How are you doing, Rose?” Esme asks.

“I’m fine, Esme. What about you?”

“Wonderful,” she says as she lets me in.

Aria is happily chewing on an apple. She smiles and hops off the table, clinging to my legs with her little arms.

“Hello, sweetie.” I lift her and place her in her chair.

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