Chapter 5
SPENCER
EIGHT YEARS AGO
“Give me one of those.”
“No.” I swipe the plastic container out of T.J.’s reach and put it on the top shelf of my locker while I switch out my books in my backpack.
“Why can’t I have a cookie?” My best friend sounds truly hurt and offended.
“Because they’re not mine.” I zip my bag.
“Did you steal them?” His gaze grows questioning.
I grab the container and close my locker, twisting the dial around. “Why would I steal cookies?”
“I don’t know, but since you won’t share it’s a legitimate question.”
“They’re for Harlow.”
“Why?” He narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“You were there when I burned the cookies—that’s why. I owe her.”
It was awkward explaining to my mom that I needed to make homemade oatmeal cookies and asking for her help.
Despite telling her it was because we were partners and I ruined them and wanted to give her cookies to make up for it, my mom has already spun a story about how I must like her and we’re destined to get married and ride off into the sunset or some shit.
“And you can’t spare one single cookie for your best friend?” He frowns, hand to his chest like I’ve physically wounded him.
“No.” I hold on tighter to the box. “Go get your own cookies.”
“Maybe I will.” He chuckles, grinning. “And I definitely won’t be sharing with you.”
With those parting words he heads to his left down the corridor to his math class. I keep walking toward the sophomore locker section and breathe a sigh of relief when I spot Harlow’s blond head.
“Harlow,” I call out, and she turns with surprised hazel-colored eyes. Bumping her locker closed with her hip she meets me in the middle of the hallway.
“Spencer,” she replies. “What are you doing here?” She adjusts the straps of her backpack on her slender shoulders.
Now I feel awkward as hell, like making cookies will come off as if I like-like her or something—which I mean, I do, but I don’t want her to know that.
“Earth to Spencer.” She snaps her fingers in front of my face.
“Oh, um, these are for you.” I hold the plastic container out to her.
“Oatmeal to make up for the ones I burned.” Her lips twitch, fighting a smile.
“And if those are horrible, I got you these on my way to school.” I swing my backpack around and unzip the middle compartment, pulling out the fresh sleeve of Oreos—double stuffed of course.
She takes both from me, her full smile lighting up her face now. “You should kiss ass more often if it means I get cookies.” She looks down at both, then back up at me. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this you know?”
“I felt bad. It was the least I could do. Am I still dead to you?”
She rolls her shoulders up and down. “More like a zombie now. Or maybe a vampire. Not dead but not quite alive. It’ll take more than cookies to get back to living status.”
I wet my lips with my tongue, trying not to grin. Damn, I like bantering with this girl. “I’ll take it, it’s better than complete death, but if I suddenly start trying to eat your brains or suck your blood, remember you’re responsible for this.”
“Of course.” She rests the plastic container on top of the Oreos and uses her free hand to tuck hair behind her ear. I somehow missed them before, but there’s a smattering of freckles across her nose.
I think I really like freckles.
“I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” I don’t know why it comes out as a question.
“Mhm,” she hums. “I better get going.”
“Right, me too.”
When did I get so awkward?
I turn to leave and only get a couple feet when I hear, “Hey, Spencer?”
I whip back around a little too eagerly. Normally I have more composure when it comes to girls, but apparently Harlow makes me uneasy—and I mean that in a good way.
“Yeah?”
“Why did you really do this?”
I answer honestly. “I’m not sure yet.”
She gives a nod and a small smile as she turns and walks away.
I keep my eyes on her until she’s gone from my sight.