“Your turn.”

I choke on the swallow of tea I have in my mouth and spend the next minute coughing the hot liquid out of my throat. When I focus on Holly again, she’s no longer in the middle of a spiritual experience with her food. Instead, she’s examining me with concern.

“You okay?”

I nod even though my throat is raw. “My turn?”

She pushes the plate across the table, offering me the last few bites of her precious treat.

“Oh no. That’s yours.”

I go to push it back, but she shakes her head. When I still don’t move to eat it, she picks a piece off the plate and holds it in front of my mouth.

“Eat.” Somehow, she glares at me but also pleads with me.

I consider getting into another debate with her. The first was so fun. Instead, I obey.

It’s just one bite. No harm can come from something that small. Right?

When I open my mouth and lean forward, she blasts me with a grin. The buttery crust hits my tongue, and I go to bite down, only to feel my teeth gently nip the ends of her fingers. Holly’s eyes widen. She pulls her hand back but does it slowly. Her skin slides against my lips during the retreat.

The pastry tastes delicious, but it’s not what I want in my mouth right now.

Her hands wrap around her cup of tea, and she stares at me like I’m a puzzle to be solved.

I hope she takes the time to try.

“So, what do you think?”

“Best I’ve ever had.”

6

HOLLY

“If you keep squeezing those balls so hard, there’s going to be nothing left.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Terra shakes her head at me as I drop the ground beef back into the bowl we’re working from. We’re almost done, and I don’t want to mess everything up, so I let her take over and wash my hands in the sink. Before starting on the dirty dishes, I read over my to-do list for the day.

1. Weekly meal prep w/Terra.

2. Read digital marketing chapters 11–14.

3. Finish microeconomics PowerPoint.

4. Create Habitat for Humanity fundraiser flyer.

5. Go to spin class.

6. Don’t call Ben.

Don’t call him. There’s no reason to call him.

It’s been three weeks since I last saw Ben. The fact that I know that shows just how much it’s nagging at me.

Whenever he texted, I would get silly butterflies in my belly. Then, I smothered those presumptuous bugs with delayed one-worded answers. Apparently, he took the hint because the messages have stopped coming.

Instead of feeling satisfied, I find myself staring at my phone, even when I shouldn’t, like in the middle of class or when I should be looking for my bus stop. Or when I’m cooking with my roommate.

“Where’s your mind?” Terra grabs the last handful of meat, carefully shaping it before lining it up with the others on a baking sheet.