She paused her typing, hitting the backspace button over and over again as she read my message. Her shoulders dropped but didn’t make a move to respond. The smirk had left her face, the joking gone from her eyes.

Shit. I crossed a line.

I clicked the keys in a hurry.

NightLocker: Hey

NightLocker: Pixie

NightLocker: I was only joking. I promise

PixieBurn: It’s moot either way

NightLocker: Reasoning?

PixieBurn: I’ve sworn off boys.

PixieBurn: Scratch that. Love. I’ve sworn off all forms of it.

I glanced at her, swallowing a lump in my throat.

What happened to make you say that?

It was written all over her face. The pain. The regret. And…fear?

Brandon. He must’ve torn her heart to pieces.

Dick.

I cleared my throat, straightening in my chair with my fingers on the keys.

NightLocker: That’s a shame...

I hit the backspace.

NightLocker: Too bad...

I deleted that one, too. Because even if I hated seeing those words—that she’d shut down her heart for good—it was for the best. I could joke around all I wanted, tease her to get her a little out of her head, but in reality? I’d never want to cross a line she’d drawn. Especially when the relationship she’d just gotten out of was so clearly hard.

So I typed the words I didn’t want to say but knew I needed to.

NightLocker: I understand. Who has time for that anyway, right?

PixieBurn: Not me.

NightLocker: Not people like us

PixieBurn: Truth

She closed the chat box, slowly turning her head to glance back at me.

The breath knocked from my lungs at the direct look in her eyes. So much brewing there—laughter and understanding and fear and…something else I couldn’t quite figure out. I sure as hell wanted to. I wanted to know her story. Wanted to know what had turned the once-outgoing pixie I watched from a friendly distance into a timid, internal being.

I wanted more than the passing convos we had during class, mostly revolving around coding or hacks or techniques.

I wanted to be a real friend.

I gave her my most understanding smile. I could be there for her without actually being hers. I could spend time with her without losing sight of my goals. I could have fun with her without falling for her.

Friends.

Finally…maybe we were ready to cross over that gap.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Amber

The cheers of more than half of Wilmont saturated the stadium as our football team stormed the field. I forced my way through the flailing arms and foam fingers, weaving in and out of the crowd as I climbed the bleachers.