I cross the playground and trudge through the snowy field. Of the kids outside, they’re mostly contained in the playground. With all the snow, it’s too slippery to play groundball or any other game.
I follow a solitary line of footprints through the deep snow until I arrive at Secora’s tree. She’s sitting on her coat, curled up and chin tilted to the sky. Her lunch bag sits open at her side, filled with a couple of empty pouches. She’s already eaten, and now, she’s leaned back with her eyes closed. She’s not sleeping though.
I just like to daydream, she told me once.Think about the way things could be, you know what I mean?
I didn’t know what she meant, but I said that I did. I want her to think I’m smart, that I understand things. No, that I understandher.
I’m still several feet away when Secora’s eyes open. She studies me as I approach, offering a hesitant wave as I reach her side. I grin down at her, pathetically pleased with the way she’s relaxed around me.
Months and months of torture, but finally, she looks at ease when I sit next to her.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say. “I tried to convince Mrs. Raekes to let me go early, but she wasn’t having it.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she says, giving me a tiny smile. “You didn’t have to come over here at all.”
My grin fades. Months and months of effort, and Secora still seems to think this is some form of charity.
I lean back against the tree, close enough our arms touch. She moves, just enough to keep a gap between us.
“Why do you do that?” I ask. I lay my head against the tree and close my eyes, if only so I don’t have to look at her expression. “Why do you move away? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” she says.
“Then why?” I ask. “Do you not want me to touch you?”
“People don’t want to touchme, Elliot,” she says. Her voice doesn’t crack. She doesn’t sound bothered at all. “It’s okay. I know, and I understand. You don’t have to?—”
“I want you to,” I say, cutting her off. I can feel myself blushing. Even my ears are hot, and I’m begging the universe that Secora isn’t looking at me. “I don’t mind if you touch me, Secora. You can touch me whenever you want.”
She’s silent for long enough I know she isn’t going to reply. She’s not going to say she wants me to touch her too. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she wishes I’d leave her alone.
It’d be smarter for me to keep my mouth shut. Easier too. But I’ve been planning to ask this all week, and today is my last chance. If I don’t ask now, I’ll be mad at myself later and I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
“We’re going to the Hibernal Festival tomorrow,” I say. My voice cracks and I clear it, hoping she doesn’t notice. “In Hayver.”
“I know,” she says.
“There’s a dance there,” I say. My heart is beating so loud, there’sno way she can’t hear it. Harrison can probably hear it from inside the school. “We could go together. Margot and Harrison are going together anyway. We might as well?—”
“Elliot,” Secora says. Her voice is utterly horrified, and I feel my face light up with embarrassment.
“Forget I said anything,” I say. I force my eyes to open, and I’m mortified to find her already staring at me. She’s shifted onto her knees, hands floating in the air, as if debating whether to reach for me. Of course, she doesn’t.
“I get you want to help me,” she says. “But that’s just going to make things worse.”
I don’t know what she’s talking about. I’m not sure how me taking her to the dance would behelpingher, but I decide it doesn’t matter. She obviously doesn’t want to go. Not with me.
“Forget it,” I say again. I shove to my feet, and without looking back at Secora, I make the long walk back to the playground.
I comeout of the memory gasping. Henry is saying something to me, but I don’t register it. I don’t register anything but Secora—no,Cora—looking at me. Large brown eyes, slightly parted lips.
Fuck. I had a crush on her. I liked her. My best friend’s killer, and I…liked her.
“Keep that one,” I say. I stumble off the bench, grabbing the blue memory from the table as I go. Looking over at Henry, I add, “Let’s go.”
“What in the Mother did you see?” he asks.
Relief surges through me. He wasn’t watching. He doesn’t know—and he won’t need to. I can keep this to myself, buried so deep, maybe I’ll forget it too.
