Page 5

When I flung a section of hair over my shoulder, my nose scrunched at the faint scent of river water. Apparently, my thorough scouring in the shower hadn’t been enough...but I didn’t have time for another one at this late hour.

I pushed aside notebooks and a save-the-date postcard for my half-sister Evie’s wedding in a week, hunting through the mess on my desk for ChapStick. Minimal makeup followed—only what could be applied in two minutes or less—then I layered myself up with a sweatshirt and old coat. Not the one I wore to the creek.

Breakfast had to wait, but I promised my rumbling stomach I would feed it the best brunch of the century right after suffering through an hour of stats.

As I power-walked across campus, inhaling the crisp winter air through burning nostrils, I passed the slow strollers left and right like a motorcycle weaving through traffic, dodging the un-thawed clumps of snow and slush on the edges of the walkways. All I needed were a set of hand weights and a fanny pack, and I could be a suburban mom getting in my steps. Instead, I had a JanSport backpack from Walmart and a crocheted beanie lovingly stitched by my sweetest friend—Angela Brooks, known as Angie to her friends.

Maybe I’ll tell Angie about what happened... She was the most kindhearted listener I ever met. However, telling her was a guarantee that Riss would find out, too. Angie told her everything, albeit out of context usually.

There were tradeoffs with all my friends.

As I plowed ahead, I passed the music building and a small crew of construction workers rolling in for the day. All the buildings were getting face lifts, so the blue collared boys were as common as students on campus.

Just as common were the dog whistles and long looks.

I fully planned to keep my gaze resolutely forward the whole way, no matter what happened when I passed them, but no taunting word came. These men seemed content to focus on their work.

My shoulders relaxed, and I spared a look in passing, only to do a double take when I saw—Him.

Creek Boy.

With raven dark hair, shaggy with longer pieces framing his cheekbones, I would know that man anywhere now. I had dragged his six-foot, half-dead body through a freezing creek, up a bank, and into my car with the adrenaline rush of a lifetime. I had stripped him down and laid with him to prevent his heart from stopping. I would have known him best from the touch of his bare chest, but that was definitely him carrying buckets of power tools down to the work site.

I tripped on an uneven strip of sidewalk, stumbling forward as my arms shot out to pinwheel and keep me upright. For a flash, all I saw was the slick sidewalk dotted with salt racing up to meet me.

“You good?” a student asked in passing, though he didn’t care to follow up as he strolled on by.

My cheeks burned as I stood up straight, puffing loose strands of hair out of my face before whirling around to see if I’d imagined it.

Nope.

There he was.

Creek Boy in all his glory, looking far healthier today with rosy cheeks from the biting wind. He wore a thick, tan coat over black flannel, denim pants, and sturdy work boots. He even smiled, the stretch of his lips lopsided as he chatted with his coworkers, waiting for a foreman to give them their tasks for the day.

A surge of frustration sparked in my gut, prompting me to storm up to the crew on the other side of the chain-linked fencing. My rings clanged on the metal rungs when I latched on and shouted, “Hey!”

They all turned, brows shooting up. One man sputtered on his latest sip of coffee, spilling some of it down his bearded chin.

My eyes pinned on only one. On the one who stared back with full, unflinching eye contact, showing no other reaction to my appearance. No surprise. Just an indifferent glare.

“You—you’re alive,” I gasped incredulously.

One of his coworkers chuckled awkwardly. “Uh... You know this girl?”

“What happened!” I exclaimed, giving the fence a shake like it was the only thing stopping me from assaulting him. “I spent two hours in a hospital and four at the police station after you ran off, and no one believed me. You were half dead when I—”

“Do I know you?”

I blinked, my lips opening and closing like a fish left out on the rocks.

“I—I don’t have the wrong person. I’m sure of it. Unless you have a twin?” I winced, bracing for a Yes, I have a twin, and we’re estranged, so please leave me alone because you’re making me uncomfortable.

“Nah, he doesn’t have a twin,” the bearded man chimed in, laughing gruffly. “Do ya, Fox?”

Fox. Cute.

At last, I had a name better than Creek Boy. A name I could tell Riss about and watch her work her social media stalking magic to find his entire life history and family tree in a matter of minutes.