Page 66 of The Moment I Knew

“That is not comforting.”

“I wasn’t aiming for comforting.” His eyes flicked over me, quick and unapologetic. “I was aiming to get your attention.”

“Well, congrats,” I said. “You have it. Now explain why you’re trespassing on my balcony like some kind of criminal.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “You say that like I don’t trespass places all the time.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Yet,” he said, pushing off the railing and stepping a little closer, “you opened the door.”

“That was so you wouldn’t fall to your death,” I shot back. “Not an invitation to stay.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” His gaze lingered on me, sharp and knowing, like he could see straight through every excuse I’d ever made about him.

I hugged my arms tighter around myself, suddenly very aware of how close he was. “Alright, well,” I said, forcing some steadiness into my voice, “thank you for returning this to me, I guess.” I held up the pencil.

“You’re welcome.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, then glanced past me into my room—the book I’d barely been able to read, the lamp still on, the unmistakable signs of a night that hadn’t gone the way I’d planned. “I’d been wondering what your room looked like,” he mused.

I looked too, and just like the day that he walked me home, I wondered what my room must look like to him now. What was the first thing he noticed? The blue and green of my duvet? The way that my desk was covered in all sorts of studying materials? The color of my walls, because I’d panicked and chosen light green even though I wasn’t sure that I actually liked it? I still needed to get back to Mum about those paint samples to change it.

“Did you want to come in?” I asked hesitantly. It seemed wrong to be inviting a boy into my room, especially when nobody else was home. Not that I was thinking anything would happen, of course not. But it still felt intimate.

I guess maybe Cole sensed that because he shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “I’m not staying.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. “Yeah, okay.” I shouldn’t have been upset about that. In fact, I really wasn’t. I was happy that he wasn’t trying to push me in, but the idea of him leaving so soon after getting here made me surprisingly sad. I almost wanted him to come in, to poke through the books on my shelf, to ask me about what I’m reading or the color of my walls. Anything to have him stay longer.

A cool winter breeze swept through my hair, and I crossed my arms over my chest, wishing I was wearing something warmer. I was in pajama pants, at least, rather than shorts, but I was wearing a short-sleeve shirt, and it was freezing out because it was December first. As if he had read my mind, suddenly a jacket was being draped across my shoulders. He adjusted the collar of it, his hands so close I was worried he’d feel my pulse thrumming in my neck.

“You’re shivering,” he said.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on talking to you outside in my pajamas tonight.”

“But aren’t you happy I’m here now?” He grinned.

I didn’t want to admit it out loud to him that I was glad he was here, so instead I just nodded and slipped my arms in the sweater and the logo jacket. I moved to the edge of the balcony to look out at the street, and Cole joined me, leaning against the railing as well.

He looked up and down at the houses. “Do most of the kids here go to Parkhurst?” he asked.

“Pretty big mix, actually. A bunch of people go to Northern, too.” I pointed across the street to Rhys Montgomery’s house. “And the boy who lives there, he’s Sebastian’s nemesis, but he goes to Crofton.” Then, realizing he wasn’t from the area, I added, “That’s the other private school. Parkhurst’s major rival. But it’s pretty far from here. Or closer to...” I trailed off, but he was still staring at me, so I added, “Closer to where my dad lives.”

He nodded, as if this was a completely normal thing for me to say. For anybody else with divorced parents, I was sure it was. For me, it felt like a cardinal sin, whispering Dad’s name in this house. I’d done it with Ainsley the other day, but neither of us had spoken about it since.

“Tell me about him,” Cole said. “Your dad.”

I blinked, surprised by the question. “What’s there to know?” I asked. “He’s my dad.”

“How long have they been divorced?” he asked.

I was glad that he didn’t ask when Dad had the affair. Divorce made it sound so much easier. Like a normal thing that a normal family would be going through.

“This summer,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know when the divorce was finalized, or if it even is already or not. Mom’s not really talking about it with us, but...” I sighed, dragged my finger along the railing of my balcony. “But that’s when he moved out.”

Cole hummed noncommittally and continued to look around. “Do you like it here?” I asked suddenly. He didn’t look at me.

“It’s a town,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’m aware, believe it or not.”