SCHNAPPS

“WE HAD SCARSOONIE’S CLASS together in seventh grade, remember?” He smiled at me with dizzy eyes.

My eyes were dizzy too and it was dark on the bridge, so I couldn’t quite make out the rest of his features, but his brown eyes stood out. He took a long drink of peach schnapps and handed me the bottle. I hesitated for a second, but I was so cold and nervous I’d do just about anything to calm my shivers.

I shouldn’t have worn these stupid thin leggings, I thought, and took a small sip. Of course, they wouldn’t be a problem if I was inside with Ethan. I took another, longer sip.

“I sat one row over behind you,” he continued. “I loaned you about twenty pencils that semester.”

I laughed. “That’s because Mr. Scarsoonie refused to grade anything but graphite.” I made quotes with my fingers and almost dropped the bottle. He took it from me, looking concerned that it would spill. “It’s sorta a rule of mine to only use pen.”

“Green pen.” He pointed at me with the bottle.

My eyes widened in surprise that he knew such an obscure detail about me. “It’s a preference.”

“Teachers hate that crap—green pen. It’s like their old eyes can’t handle the contrast ratio.”

I almost spit I laughed so hard. “Contrast ratio” seemed to be the funniest phrase in the English language and laughing released the anxiety wringing my stomach.

He offered me the bottle again, but I shook my head. “I’m good…”

Moonlight reflected off sparse patches of ice floating on the river below, but the bridge was black. He nudged my arm with the bottle and smiled encouragingly. His teeth looked glaringly white in the shade of the covered bridge.

“Seriously”—I waved my hands at him—“no more.”

He guzzled the rest of the bottle and chucked it off the bridge. It made a hollow ding when it hit the snowy riverbank.

I looked over the railing to see where it had landed; it was floating in a thawed puddle. “You’re gonna have to go pick that up. Aimée’s parents will erupt if they see a bottle of booze on their property.”

“She has parties all the time,” he said dismissively.

“They don’t know that.” I squinted at him. “What did you say you wanted to talk about?”

“I didn’t.”

When I turned around he was practically on top of me. My smile dropped. “Hey, bubble space much?” I forced out a short laugh, trying to downplay my nervousness. I shoved him away and crossed my arms tight over my chest.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” I tucked my hands deeper into the fluff of my lavender down coat, taking a step away. He mirrored my step.

His lazy smile warped into a crooked grin. “Sure you’re ready to rejoin the party? You seem a little on edge. Anything you need to get off your chest before you run back to E?”

“What do you want?” I asked flatly.

His eyes narrowed at that. “What’s the matter, Cassidy?”

I took another step away as he slurred something else, glaring at him. The heels of my Mary Janes hit the railing when he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“I don’t—you know I—I,” I stammered. “We should go back.”

He nodded, leaning closer. “Right, we should go … or…”

“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely. The adrenaline running through me made my throat dry.

“Yes?” He arched his eyebrows.

I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but nothing came out.