Today's Reading
The boy grabbed the ice back up again, sidestepped Rose, and headed for the counter. "You want anything?" he called over his shoulder. "Let me get you something. I'm really sorry."
In her haste, Rose had run out of the house without grabbing her wallet first. She wasn't particularly hungry, and yet, she wanted something from this boy. Anything would do. She followed him to the front and plucked a candy bar from beside the cash register.
He fished his wallet from his jeans and planted a crisp hundred- dollar bill on the counter. "For your trouble," he told Steve. The bill was big enough to wipe the frown off the guy's face and the red mess off the floor. "Hey, let me make it up to you," he told Rose.
She kept wiping at her shirt, though the red had seeped into the cotton's weave by now. Not knowing what to say, Rose simply nodded.
2
Outside, they walked along the dark, empty roadside, which was surprising to Rose because she thought everyone around here drove. But she was glad this boy didn't have a car. Rose could never justify getting into a stranger's car. But a walk? She could do a walk.
"I'm Hart, by the way."
"As in&?" She pointed to the center of her chest, and it triggered a dimple to deepen in the center of the boy's cheek.
"H-A-R-T," he said.
She smiled. "Rose Pauly. Can I ask where we're going?"
"Someone's throwing a party. A last-day-of-school thing." Hart heaved the bag of ice farther up his hip, carrying it like a big blocky baby. "You're new here."
"Just moved today." She hadn't really looked when she chose the candy bar, and now she read the label. Malt-flavored. Awful. Rose pinched open the wrapper and chomped down. The night filled with the sounds of crickets, tree frogs, and her loud crunching.
"Are you a senior?" Hart asked. "I will be in the fall."
"Me too. That can't be easy, switching schools in your last year."
There was a perfectly dumb explanation that involved her parents' messy divorce and her dad's rash decision to pick up and move. But the last thing Rose wanted to do was ruin Hart's mood and her own by telling the story. So, she let the minutes lapse silently, until they stretched to their breaking point and she only nodded and agreed. "No, yeah, it sucks."
"Well, if it helps, you've already made a friend." He moved the bag to the front of his chest, hugging it to himself and planting his chin on the ice like a triumphant flag at the top of Everest. "Me."
Rose didn't know what it was about the moment—this cute boy, and his smile, and his earnestness, and his random bag of ice—but it all came together in a heady alchemy, bewitching her. She was glad for the night and the canopy of trees shrouding them so Hart couldn't see how deeply she was blushing.
They walked until the trees thinned and eventually gave way to houses. They reached a street sign and turned into its corner, entering a world of light and the sound of life, but Rose already missed the quiet road where it was just the two of them.
"I'm really sorry about your shirt," Hart said. "I'll get you a new one."
She knew that someone who carried around one-hundred-dollar bills could afford it. But a wardrobe change was the furthest thing from her mind. "You don't have to."
She didn't need him to lead the way anymore. The house with the party sat in the middle of its block like a broken piñata, with kids spilling into the yard and parked cars cramming the curb. These would be her future classmates, she knew. And as Rose ventured closer to the house party, dread rose up steadily within her like mercury in a thermometer. She was about to present herself to her future schoolmates for the first time, and she'd be doing it looking like they'd preemptively thrown overripe tomatoes at her.
Hart hitched the ice up and stepped onto the yard, but Rose held back. "Actually, I think I'll just walk home from here."
"What? No, I'll find you a new shirt."
Rose hedged, but Hart kept walking, and as though they were already tethered to each other by a thick rope, she followed in step. They stopped in the doorway, parting slightly to let a girl glide between them. Along the side of Hart's neck, where an artery pulsed, moisture glistened, and Rose wondered whether it was sweat or condensation from the bag of ice. She had the sudden—'ridiculous'— urge to lick the spot in order to tell the difference. When he smirked at her, Rose averted her gaze like she'd been caught mid- dirty thoughts.
"Let me unload this thing," Hart said, glancing down to the bag of ice. "Don't go anywhere."
...
