17. Lucky Rabbit’s Foot #2
That same warm look follows me as I turn to leave, abandoning my plans to go back to the lodge because something far more urgent cropped up. Like, end-of-the-world-level urgent. My flip-flops smack against the pavement as I rush over to Bluepeak High.
By the time I get there, the parking lot is crawling with kids who’ve been released from their daily prison sentence—I mean, school. I stand on my tiptoes, scanning the sea of backpacks until I spot Harper’s flaming red hair.
I weave through the crowd, doing some weird combination of apologizing and side-stepping around loud, hormonal teenagers. By the time I reach her, I’m out of breath and dragging her down the last few steps like a madwoman.
“Hey, that’s a step!” Harper exclaims, half-laughing as I pull her to the side.
“Can we talk?” I blurt, not bothering to take a second to breathe.
She cocks an eyebrow. “Sure, Chloe, I…”
“No, now.” I take her hand, pulling her towards the basketball courts. There’s no after-school practice today, which works perfectly for my impromptu emotional breakdown.
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Harper tries to pull back, but I have her in a death grip. There’s no escape.
Once we’re safely tucked away from prying eyes and ears, I let it all spill. Every last detail about Brody, my feelings, my internal spiral. It’s like the floodgates open, and Harper, being the rockstar friend she is, listens patiently without so much as an eyeroll. The woman’s a saint.
My lungs finally catch up. “And then, after Laney’s cryptic warning to stay away from him, I have no freaking clue what to do.”
Harper looks at me like she’s trying to piece together a crime scene. “Did she ever tell us what the big deal was? That’s a pretty bold warning without any actual context.”
“You were with her on the pier,” I snap, borderline losing it. “Didn’t she tell you anything after I left?”
Harper lifts an eyebrow. “Chloe, we had wine. The second you walked off, Brody Stirling ceased to exist. We talked shit and ate cheese like always.”
“Aaarrrggghhh!” I fling my hands toward the sky, praying for divine intervention. “How am I supposed to make a choice when I don’t know what the hell I’m deciding on?”
She snorts. “You crack me up.”
“This is not funny, Harp. Haven’t you been paying attention?”
“Oh, I heard you alright,” she replies. “And from what I can tell, you’re head over heels for him. And if half of what you’re saying is true, he feels the same way. So, yeah, if you want my two cents, I say go for it.”
My heart does a weird, fluttery thing, but my stomach knots itself up tighter than ever. How can one person be this tied up in emotional knots?
“Go for it? With Brody?”
She looks at me, unimpressed. “No, Chloe. With Mayor Dawson? Come on. Obviously, Brody, you dingbat,” she says, crossing her arms. Foot starts tapping. Judgy teacher mode, activated.
I press my fingers to my temples. “You’re not helping.”
“And you’re freaking out over nothing.” Harper counters. “You’re clearly into each other. I say screw it and see where this thing goes. Being honest about how you feel? Best thing you can do. He deserves to know. And you know I’m right.”
Biting the inside of my cheek does nothing to quiet the noise. Harper’s right. He should know. But…
“What if I’m wrong?” It comes out too soft, too scared. “What if I’m part of some grand scheme to win me over and get what he wants, and when it’s done, he’ll toss me aside like last season’s handbag? I’ll be devastated. Totally wrecked .”
She pulls me into one of her famous bear hugs, no warning, no lecture. “You won’t know unless you try, Chloe,” she says, squeezing me tightly. “And if he messes up, I’ll help you throw his ass into the lake.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I reluctantly pull away from Harper’s comforting embrace to check it. It’s a text from Brody.
I’m at the lodge. Where are you?
Harper’s voice rings in my head the entire way back to the lodge. "Go for it." Like it’s as simple as picking out a new pair of shoes.
Meanwhile, the conflicted knot in my stomach has become an over-caffeinated Boy Scout practicing all his knots on my intestines. And that knot triples when I pull up and see Brody standing on the steps leading to the lodge entrance, looking… way too good.
He’s ditched his suit for dark pants and a light blue button-down—no tie, casual enough to mess with my brain, but still tailored enough to remind me of his status. And in his hands? A… potted plant?
“Uh, hi,” I say, climbing the steps, my eyes darting between him and the plant.
He holds it out to me like some offering to the gods. “In the spirit of conservation, I decided against feeding the floral industry.” His tone is serious, but there’s a glint in his eyes. “So instead of a bouquet, I picked up one of Bluepeak’s prized wonders, an—”
“Eastern Red Columbine,” I finish for him, blinking at the adorable little buds sprouting from the plant. My mom used to have one like it in her garden.
Great. Now I’m emotional about a freaking plant.
“Thank you.” My heart warms. A small, thoughtful gesture that shouldn’t mean as much as it does, but here we are. And because it’s me, I remember the way we left things last time, and immediately, my face sours. “Wait a second… is this an ‘I messed up’ plant? Or a potted plant of mourning?”
Brody’s laugh rumbles low in his chest, and before I can spiral into some weird botanical therapy session, he pulls a small box of luxury chocolates from his pocket, like some kind of magician.
“Not today.” He smirks. “The little guy’s doing fine, and Darcy says he’ll be back hopping around in no time.”
Potted plant of celebration, then. Got it. I’m still laughing, but it sounds hollow, even to my own ears. Because I’m standing here with a plant in one hand, fancy chocolates in the other, and I still have no clue how I’m supposed to handle any of this.
“For the warrior rabbits of the world,” he says, his gaze locking on mine, a playful tilt to his lips. “And also, because I’ve decided to reconsider my project.”
Hold the phone. “Reconsider?”