Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
FRANKIE
“ M orning, Coop,” I said, my voice too bright, too brittle.
It cracked at the edges, and I hated how fake it sounded.
My head was still back at Jake—his rejection sharp as a slap, the flash of fury in his eyes, the way he stormed out without waiting for me to explain.
Like I didn’t deserve the chance. It burned—his silence, his judgment, the finality of it.
I didn’t owe him anything. Not really. Not after everything .
But dammit, it still gutted me to have him look at me like I was nothing. Like I’d betrayed him.
I fumbled with my keys, fingers stiff and clumsy, and all I could think was: Don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of Coop. I clenched my jaw. You will not cry.
Coop didn’t look at me.
“Morning,” he said, but his gaze slid right past me, like I wasn’t even there. The word was clipped, cold—not awkward, not shy. Just distant.
I swallowed hard and opened the car door, forcing my hands to stay steady. My backpack hit the backseat with a dull thud, too loud in the glacial silence. When I shut the door and turned, Coop was finally looking at me—and I almost wished he wasn’t.
There was something hollow in his expression, tight around the eyes and mouth. Not quite anger. Not yet. But the kind of disappointment that sank straight into my chest like a stone. Not betrayal. Hurt. Quiet, restrained, and sharp enough to leave a bruise.
“You ready?” he asked. It sounded neutral. But it wasn’t. Nothing about the way he looked at me was impartial. If anything, it felt like he knew everything, judged me, and found me wanting. That hurt.
It didn’t help that guilt clawed at my throat.
“Yeah,” I managed, and he slid into the passenger seat.
He didn’t speak again. Not once as I drove. The silence scraped at me. My heart pounded, like it knew what was coming and wanted to run from it. My fingers clenched the wheel tighter with every street we passed. This was worse than yelling.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s wrong?”
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Again. It had been buzzing almost since we got in the car. He didn’t even reach for it. Just leaned against the window, fist against his mouth.
“Jake spent the night?”
There it was. Quiet. But sharp.
“We fell asleep watching videos,” I said. Flat. Careful. I stared at the road ahead because if I looked at him, the guilt would be unbearable.
“Jake said he wasn’t going to stay long. Said you were tired.”
“He probably did.” My voice cracked. “I was. It was late.” We didn’t plan it. It just happened. None of that made it okay. “It’s not the first time he’s spent the night.”
Coop turned toward me, his tone low. “We were twelve the last time he stayed over there, Frankie.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t okay. I hated that he’d figured it out. That there was anything to find out.
“And your mom wasn’t home—again.”
“Yeah, thanks for the reminder,” I snapped. The light turned green. I needed motion. Escape.
“You have a hickey.”
My breath caught. I had a hickey? How the hell had I not seen it? Heat flared under my skin, shame crawling up my neck.
“Are you mad I have one—or that I didn’t report back to you about every second of my night?” It came out harsher than I meant. But I couldn’t take it back.
Coop’s jaw clenched. “I don’t know,” he said after a beat. “I don’t know what I feel right now.”
That cut deeper than if he’d just yelled. I deflated. “Coop…”
He shook his head. “It’s fine, Frankie. I just—seeing Jake’s car there earlier. Knowing he was there. It just hit me.” His knuckles thudded against the door. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you .”
I glanced at him. “You sure about that?”
He didn’t answer. Not right away. I spotted a motorcycle behind us in the mirror— Bubba . Of course. And of course, now .
We pulled into the school lot. I couldn’t breathe.
“I want to ask you out.” Coop didn’t look at me as he said that.
“Okay.” My voice was a whisper. Okay was only one small step above just “oh.” But here we were. For the first time, I had absolutely no idea what to say to Coop right now. About anything.
“Are you—are you and Jake…?” Coop trailed off, but I heard the question. Felt it, razor-sharp in the space between us.
“We haven’t gone on a date,” I said quickly. Too quickly. Coward. He asked. Sorta. Then we just fell into bed.
“And Bubba?”
“He asked.” I parked. My hands trembled on the wheel. “Just… we haven’t really had time to talk since Tuesday. Not really.” Keep dating Frenchy if I had to, but date him too. Yeah, those words were permanently etched into my brain.
“Then there’s Frenchy…”
“It’s Mathieu ,” I snapped, defensive, exhausted.
“Yeah, I don’t care what his name is,” Coop said. Then, gentler, he reached for my hand. “I’m not trying to be an ass. I promise.”
“I know.” I tried to smile. “You’re just drawn that way.”
He smiled back, just barely. The first real one all morning.
“I meant it, Frankie. I want to take you out.”
I looked at him, and for a second, the weight in my chest was unbearable. “Even if…?”
“Even if you’re dating others .”
Bubba knocked on my window. Coop didn’t let go of my hand.
I held up one finger— wait —then turned back to Coop.
“Are you sure?”
His gaze flicked away. “Do you not want to go out with me? If that’s it?—”
“Stop,” I said. “It’s not that. It’s just—” Now I’m lying to my best friend, sleeping with a guy they apparently all hate, and breaking every rule I thought I’d made for myself. They were all coming at me with offers like this was some kind of game. Like my heart wasn’t involved at all.
“You’ve figured out we all like you,” Coop said softly. “A lot.”
That was definitely part of it. A part I hadn’t been ready for.
“But we’ve been friends forever. If I mess this up—” We hadn’t even repaired the damage from their choices and mine as yet. They all wanted to change it again.
“We’ll make it work. Just… make time for me, too? Maybe Monday, after planning and applications?”
I squeezed his hand. “Okay.”
But guilt gnawed at the back of my throat.
Because I already had no idea how to fix what I’d broken.
I pulled my hand away gently and grabbed my backpack. Coop got out with me, rounding the front of the car. Bubba stood a few feet away, watching us, hands in his jacket pockets. His brows pulled together as his gaze flicked between us, then stopped—just for a second—on my neck.
I resisted the urge to touch it.
The air seemed to shift between us, thick with things unsaid. Bubba didn’t smile. He didn’t tease. He didn’t even speak. Just looked at me like he wanted to, then looked away instead.
They were both close—Coop on my right, Bubba on my left—but neither of them touched me. Not a brush of the hand. Not a hug. Just space, tight and uncomfortable. Like I was radioactive. Like they didn’t know where to step.
We started toward the school building in silence. Each step made my skin itch. I hated how self-conscious I suddenly was—how visible the hickey must be. How much they noticed. How much they didn’t say.
Inside, the halls were still mostly quiet. Early.
Archie was waiting at our usual table in the cafeteria with coffee for everyone. He had his in one hand, phone in the other. He looked up when he saw us, smile twitching onto his face—but it faltered the second he saw me.
Then I saw Jake .
He was sitting at the end of the table, two boxes of donuts next to him. His jaw was tight. His expression unreadable.
My stomach dropped.
Because all of them were here.
And the way they looked at me—every one of them—made my chest squeeze tight. Like they were waiting for something. Like they were bracing .
Archie’s gaze flicked to my neck, then away. Bubba didn’t look at me at all. Coop’s hand was back in his pocket.
Jake didn’t say a word.
And I stood there, halfway between all of them, like a pulled thread in a sweater. One wrong move, and the whole thing would unravel.