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“Wait! If you guys are leaving, I have to leave too. You’ll walk me home, right?” Misty asks, scrambling to grab her backpack.

“Yes, Misty. Though if you’re worried someone’s going to kidnap you, you can rest easy. Everyone in town knows all your grandmother has to do is sell your wardrobe to pay the ransom,” Sienna teases.

“That’s not funny, Sienna. There are a lot of bad people out there. You know what they do to girls. Especially cute ones,” Misty says, genuine fear seeping into her voice.

“So only cute girls get trafficked and raped?” Sienna counters, never one to soften her words.

“Stop, Sienna. You know Misty gets nightmares,” I say, coming to my friend’s defense.

“Hey, she’s the one who brought looks into it. I’m just saying bad people don’t give a shit what you look like. It’s about power and control, not how cute you look in your new winter coat.” Sienna flicks the sleeve of Misty’s jacket.

“Can we just go, please?” Misty says to Jalen as though he’s her only ally in the room.

“Yeah, let’s go. Thanks for this, Max. I think we’re definitely going to ace the test tomorrow,” Jalen says, shrugging on his coat and backpack.

“Yeah, thanks, Max! You’re a rockstar for putting this all together,” Misty says cheerfully, her kidnapping fears apparently forgotten now that she has company for the walk home.

“What they said,” Sienna adds.

I walk them to the door and wave goodbye, only realizing Milo didn’t leave with them when they’re already halfway across the front lawn. I glance over my shoulder and find him coming out of the kitchen with a trash bag in hand. Without a word, he starts picking up Sienna’s empty energy-drink cans, water bottles, and all the candy wrappers Misty left behind.

“You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve cleaned up.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, setting the trash bag beside the front door before gathering the four empty mugs from the hot cocoa I made during one of our study breaks.

Milo carries the mugs into the kitchen, and I trail behind him with the empty chip bowl. I lean against the counter, watching in silence as he washes everything before placing it on the drying rack. When he’s finished, he wipes his hands on a dish towel and flashes me that million-dollar smile.

“Well, this was productive. I’ve got to admit, I’m feeling a lot better about my chances of getting a good grade tomorrow. That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t put this whole study group together.”

“You would’ve gotten a good grade regardless.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but we both know you did most of the heavy lifting during our lab assignment last week.”

“Not true.” I shake my head. “You did just as much as I did. And your notes…” I smile. “They were a lifesaver today. Everyone thought so.”

It’s true. Milo might not think he’s as smart as the rest of us, but I wish he’d stop selling himself short. So what if it takes him a little longer to understand something? Once he gets it, he gets it. And judging by the notes he took in class last week, he understands a hell of a lot more than he gives himself credit for.

“I should be heading home too,” he says, though he makes no move to leave.

“Yep. Guess you should.” I rock back on my heels, suddenly unsure what I’m supposed to do with myself.

Milo just stands there, looking at me with a goofy-ass grin on his face.

“What?” I finally ask.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” I wave a hand at his face. “That.”

Milo’s grin only gets bigger. I’m about to ask him what’s so fucking amusing, when a low chuckle rumbles out of him. That’s all it takes for me to forget what I was going to say.

“Okay. I guess I’m out then,” he says, finally walking out of the kitchen.

Thank God!