Can't Help Falling (Sweater Weather, #3)

by Courtney Walsh

In the spring of my junior year, after months of covert meetings, I showed up at the pond on a regular Thursday, feeling like I just got run over by a bulldozer. By then, Emmy could read my expressions, and vice versa. She took one look at me, frowned, and opened the small container that was on her lap and without saying a word, offered what was inside. I nodded at it, asking a silent question. “Banana bread with crumble on top,” she said. “I’ll give you a piece if you tell me why you look like that.” I made my way down the dock and sat. It was cool outside, cooler than normal, and I noticed the extra blanket she brought folded up to the side. I leaned to grab that one, but she lifted her blanket as if to say, “Here, share with me.” I scooted over, and she dropped the blanket over my legs and looked at me. “I know you’re not one to talk about your feelings or anything.” I looked away. She tilted the container of banana bread at me, and I sheepishly took three pieces. “Oof. Three pieces. This must be a doozy.” I smiled through my sullen expression, in spite of myself.