“I’m an only child.” She scooped up her second taco. “The idea of having a sibling, someone bound by blood to have your back…” Her eyes trailed to the side, that same cold, distant gaze threatening to come back. “It’d be nice.”

I swallowed my bite a little too hard.

“Where did you come from?” I asked again.

She laughed, setting down her taco to take a fast drink of tea. “You sound like a vampire.”

“What?” I nearly choked on my Coke.

“True Blood,” she said like that would explain everything. “The vamps are always asking the beautiful girl what she is. Where she came from.” Her eyes widened, that blush coming back. “Not that I’m calling myself beautiful—”

Instinctively, I reached across the table, gently touching her wrist to cut off her ramble. “It’s okay,” I said, and she took a breath. She eyed my hand, her chest rising and falling a little too fast. I withdrew it, occupying my fingers with another taco even though I itched to feel her soft skin again. “You are,” I said. “By the way.” I took a massive bite, shoveling the avocado-pork gold into my mouth before I could say anything else stupid.

She glanced down at her hands like she suddenly forgot what to do with them. “Football game.”

I blinked a few times, totally thrown by the response.

I tilted my head. “You want to play?”

The smile on her lips cleared the confusion and cut right through the tension. She shook her head. “No,” she said. “That’s where I came from.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding. “Why?”

“That’s a damn good question.” The sigh was heavy and long as she grabbed her third taco. “Went to watch Jake.”

Hannah’s boyfriend, right. That made sense.

The look on her face when she’d first walked in? No sense at all.

“Did we lose?” I asked, wondering if it was a game loss plus sleep deprivation combo making her look like she was drained. The normal, glittering pixie…she was wilted.

Maybe she really didn’t want to eat with me.

Maybe she saw me standing at the counter and I ruined her idea of fun solo-tacos.

I told myself to shut the hell up and waited patiently for her to finish chewing so she could answer me.

“No,” she said. “They won.”

“Huh,” I said.

“What?”

I shrugged, shaking my head. I knew we weren’t the kind of friends who directly asked what’s wrong, tell me your problems and let me help…please.

“What?” she asked again, wiping her hands and mouth with her napkin.

“Nothing,” I said.

She arched a brow at me.

“You seem…” Hurt. Scared. Confused.

“Tired?” She groaned. “You already told me I looked like crap earlier today. No need to rub it in hours later.”