Page 42 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“Step-dad, but yeah.” Cross kept them moving slowly among the other dancing students even when the song changed to something faster. “Cal’s the only dad I’ve ever known, anyway. On paper, he’s my dad since he adopted me.”

“Your real dad—”

“Affonso fucked off somewhere when I was a baby,” he interrupted. His voice edged a bit sharper.

“Sorry,” Catherine whispered quickly.

Cross shook his head. His hands tightened on her waist and around her fingers. “No worries. It’s good, as long as he stays gone.”

He sounded like he meant it.

Catherine chose to drop it.

Unfortunately, Cross quieted after that. It wasn’t unusual for him to be quiet, but Catherine felt like maybe she had made him sad by asking about his real father.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” she said.

“You didn’t.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I don’t say things just to say them, Catherine.”

That much was true.

“It’s snowing,” he said after a second.

Catherine looked over Cross’s shoulder, seeing the heavy flakes of snow falling down outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hall. Even though it was winter, they hadn’t gotten a lot of snow that year so far. What snow they had gotten quickly turned to slush and made a mess.

Lit up by the lights inside the hall, the windows reflected against the snowflakes, making them colorful as they danced down.

“It’s pretty,” she said.

“You think?” Cross asked.

“Yeah.”

“Come on, then.”

“What?”

Cross didn’t answer, simply pulled away from Catherine, while keeping a grip on her wrist at the same time. He tugged her along as he weaved in and out of the other students, careful not to go too fast and making sure she wasn’t tripping over her heels or gown.

Catherine saw where they were headed as a familiar sign blinked up ahead. “We’re not supposed to open the exit doors, Cross.”

“Oh, well.”

That was all he said before they pushed out the exit doors on the left side of the hall. They came out onto the cobblestone walkway that separated the two wings of the school, where students liked to gather during breaks.

Catherine was not expecting the cobblestone to be as wet as it was, even with the falling snow. She slipped on her heels, but Cross caught her at the last second. Her laughter filled the empty space, mixing in with Cross’s as he pulled her up.

“You were right,” he said.

“About what?”

“The snow. It is nice.”

Not pretty.