Cold Kiss

I think that’s true even when you die. I mean, if I died, I wouldn’t want Geoff to pine forever. A few months, sure, I mean, I’m worth that at least, but I’d hate the idea of him moping around forever, staring at my pictures and baking himself into oblivion.”
    Is that what he thinks I’m doing? Is that what everyone else really expects? Me, a teenage widow, in love with Danny, dead Danny, forever and ever, end of story? God, if any of them knew what I’d done instead…
    I’m still gaping when Trevor looks up, his gaze sharp and far more knowing than I ever imagined. Maybe someone he loved died a long time ago. Maybe other people have actually gone through this without going insane and casting dark spells at midnight.
    “I think we’re done, Wren. If anyone else comes in, I can handle it. Go on home. And take a fresh coffee to your friend out there when you go.”
    I’m not about to argue. I’m still too shocked to form words anyway, and when I tap Gabriel on the shoulder outside ten minutes later, he’s just as surprised to see me there.
    “You could have come in, you know,” I say, and wrap my scarf around my neck. The wind is biting, and there’s no moon, just a faint dusting of stars.
    “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”
    I try to ignore the blush creeping up the back of my neck, even in the cold. He’s flirting; there’s no way to deny it.
    And it feels good. There’s no denying that, either.
    We drink our coffee in silence for a few minutes as we walk past the bookstore and the dry cleaner’s and the drugstore. The movie theater on the corner is all lit up, and I wave at Nan Bernstein, who’s leaning on the counter of the ticket booth, beyond bored.
    “Friend?” Gabriel asks as we cross the street.
    I shrug. “I’ve known her since kindergarten. It’s a pretty small town in some ways.”
    “I noticed.” His tone is dry. “I got a lot of ‘back off’ vibes when I was asking about you yesterday.”
    That’s surprising. I’ve lived here all my life, but I don’t have many friends, not close ones anyway. Danny did, though, and they were all pretty loyal.
    I swallow the last of my coffee and toss the cup in a trash can outside the video store. “What about you? What about where you were from, before?”
    Even in the dark I can see his jaw tighten, the hard line of it nearly forming a right angle. “We’ve lived a lot of places,” he says finally. “None of them for too long.”
    It’s not fair that he can see into me so easily, when reading him seems to require a whole new language. I may not love my hometown, but it’s what I know, and even if I don’t intend to stick around here forever, it’s comfortable, even comforting in its own way. I didn’t meet Danny till high school, but we still shared the same memories of ice cream at Hill’s in the summer, sledding in the park, the Memorial Day parade with the fire trucks all shined up.
    I can’t imagine a series of houses, and especially not grungy little apartments like the one Gabriel’s sharing with his sister now. When everything else is exploding, I know I can go home, to a place as familiar to me as my own face, where the Christmas tree will stand lopsided in the same corner every year and the bathroom faucet will always drip and the attic will always smell faintly of lavender and ancient pipe tobacco.
    “Is here better?” I ask without thinking, and he turns to me with a sudden smile.
    “It is now.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    IT’S TOO GOLD TO SIT OUTSIDE. AT LEAST THAT’S what I tell myself as Gabriel leads me up to his apartment again. Olivia’s at work, he says, and she wouldn’t mind anyway, and I tell myself that we’re only going to talk, that being alone together like this doesn’t mean anything.
    It still feels wrong, though, when Gabriel unlocks the door, and I bump into his back as he searches for the light switch. His clothes are cold, but I can feel the warmth underneath them, the faint thump of his heart, and for a minute I’m tempted to hang on, to bury my face between his shoulder blades and just cry, and that’s so wrong.
    Instead, I stumble away from him and cling to my backpack like it’s going to save me from doing something crazy. “I can’t stay too long. I have homework and stuff, and my mom knows when I get off.”
    I don’t say that I’m worried about Danny, alone since last night, maybe just as restless as he was then, maybe more. I also don’t say that I’ve