Page 25 of The Color of Grace


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Then I slipped and he caught me again.

“You’re not great either,” he supplied as he struggled to keep me upright. “Maybe you should buy new shoes.”

“Maybe you should let me go so I can move at my own pace. I tend to fall less when I’m not being rushed.” I jerked my arm out of his grasp and wobbled, feeling like I was on the slipperiest ice skates ever made.

He cracked off a laugh as he caught my arm again. “How many times do you plan on trying to fall?”

“As many as it takes,” I spat back. This time I knew better than to make any sudden movements.

Since I was in no longer in danger of wobbling—not with the death hold he had on me—I paused to send him a frown, letting him know he could let go now. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to help through the snow?”

He grinned and slowly complied, easing his grip away. The sweet, adorable monster actually grinned at my muttered question. “She’s inside the gym, doing something cheerleader…ish before the game tonight.”

“Cheerleader-ish?” I repeated.

He gave a nod.

“Is that a word?”

“Sure.”

I quirked a brow. “In what dictionary?”

“This one.” His grin was pure dazzle as he tapped the side of his temple.

Rolling my eyes, I shoved my hands in my pockets. When I reached a cleared sidewalk that had been scraped clean of snow and ice, I had to step over a pile of drifted mush by the curb before I landed on the bare concrete walkway. No chance of falling now. Yet Mr. Green Eyes stuck to my side, strolling merrily along beside me.

With a slight crinkle in his eyebrows, he gave a confused frown. Glancing over his shoulder at the school’s parking lot we were leaving behind, he scratched his head. “Umm. Where’re we going?”

“We?” I asked, sending him an are-you-for-real look that would’ve done Bridget proud. “I have no idea where you’re going, but I’m going home.”

Whirling around to walk backward as he kept pace with me, he pointed toward all the parked vehicles. “You didn’t drive?”

“No,” I muttered. “I did not.” Why the heck was he loitering around me?

He shivered and bundled himself more snugly into his jacket. “Bet that’s going to be a cold walk.”

Narrowing my eyes, I demanded, “Why are you following me?”

He shrugged. “I’m curious.”

“About what?”

His grin was mischievous and—ugh—adorable. “Can’t tell you.”

I growled. Fine. I didn’t want to know anyway.

Spinning so he could face forward again, he continued to walk with me. “So how far do you have to go?”

Like I was really going to tell him where I lived.

Prepared to stick my nose in the air and coolly refuse to answer, I caught sight of an abandoned glove dropped forgotten in the thick snow lining the sidewalk out of the corner of my eye. Sidetracked and spellbound by the contrast of the bright red and black stripes of the glove against the pure white of the snow, I paused and stared a moment, thinking what a nice picture it’d make. The solitary object lying lonely and forgotten in the cold could mean so many different things.

It reminded me of my English assignment.

“What’s wrong?” Ryder asked, though I was so hooked on my thoughts, his voice sounded muffled as if it came from a great distance.

Ignoring him, I slung my book bag off my shoulder and rested it on my feet. After unzipping the front pocket, I extracted the cell phone Barry had given me.

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