protest, seeing as David had come within earshot. I let go of Candy’s sleeve with a small whimper of defeat, and she took off.
“Hey,” David said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I guess I’ll take a couple of those.”
I had to smile. “This is Violet we’re talking about here. You’re going to need more than a couple.”
David laughed. “Good call.” He surveyed the two plastic buckets in front of me, one filled with white roses and one with a dwindling supply of red. “What’s the matter, no one likes the white ones?”
I ran my fingers over the silky tops of the white roses. “Well, I like the white. I always have. I still have the—” I cut off, not wanting to finish what I’d started but realizing it was too late. “The, um, corsage you gave me. The white rose.” I glanced up at him. “Do you remember? The night of the Winter Swirl?”
“Of course I remember. I’m surprised you kept it, though. There’s sort of some bad memories associated with it.”
I stared at the roses, watching my red-and-white-painted nails graze over the petals. “No sense in taking it out on the corsage.” An awkward silence followed. “So,” I said a little too brightly, “you’ll take pity on a few of these white ones?”
“Sure. Give me three of each.”
As I gathered the flowers, I felt him staring at me. When I looked up and caught him, his eyes dropped to the floor.
“Why were you looking at me like that?”
“It— Nothing. You just never talk about the past. It’s like you try to act like it didn’t happen.”
“Some of it,” I conceded.
I grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped the ends of the roses, trying to ignore the way he continued to stare.
“What?” I finally said.
“Your hair like that. It’s cute.”
My hand flew to my hair, which I’d put up in a high ponytail and wrapped with curly red and white ribbons. I almost never wore my hair up anymore.
“I thought you didn’t like my new hair,” I said, only half teasing.
“I never said that. I always liked your hair.” He handed me his money in exchange for the roses, concentrating a little harder than necessary on putting his change in his wallet. “So, um, speaking of the Swirl. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I managed a small nod and a forced laugh. “Taking my vitamins religiously. Healthy as a horse.”
Ugh. Did I really say that?
David nodded, and mercifully did not call me out for avoiding his real question, the one that had nothing to do with my physical health. “Good. See you later, Kelse.”
“David?” He stopped and turned back toward me. “I know I said this already, but no one here knows about that night. No one knows about any of it. I’d really like to keep it that way.”
He nodded again, and when our eyes met, I knew from the honesty and warmth in his that I could trust him. The same way I used to, before the literal and figurative distance between us.
David’s fingers drummed against the stems of the flowers. “You know, the night before you left.” He paused. “I didn’t do it to upset you. The point wasn’t to hurt you.”
But you did. More than you know.
David’s gaze held steady. “You believe me, right?”
Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. My throat felt thick and tight and I had a sudden urge to throw my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shirt.
Almost as if he’d read my mind, he took a step closer to the table. Instead of hugging me, though, he pulled his wallet out again. “On second thought, I’ll take one more white one. I can’t let them sit there all pathetic like that.”
I handed him another white flower. Our fingertips brushed when he took it from me, and for a second neither of us let go.
“Here,” I said, needing an excuse to take my hand away. On impulse, I grabbed a red one, too. “Violet will appreciate symmetry. The red’s on me.”
We smiled at each other, the first real smile in ages.
Later that day, when the hallways were littered with rose petals and message tags from cookie-grams, I made my way over to my locker feeling exhausted but happy.
I gave a start as my locker door swung open and I caught sight of a stem poking out of the cubby. Ryan had already left me seven red roses, one before each period, the way he’d