Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Her brows rise. “I’m your charity case?”
I seesaw my hand. “I get off on making people feel good. So in that instance, maybe, but maybe not because I feel like it’s more for me in a way, less for you.”
She fights against an emerging smile. “You’re weirdly honest.”
“You don’t hate it,” I state.
“I don’t,” she agrees, sitting forward. Closer to me. Our knuckles nearly brush. She goes quiet. Deep in thought while sucking on the Jolly Rancher.
I feel on the verge of being rejected. “Unless,” I say, “you don’t like having friends in your classes, which I get if you think I’d be a distraction. But I’m a decent classmate. I won’t bug the shit out of you. Though, I do make an average study partner. My flashcards are always pretty fucking basic.”
She blinks for a second before she says, “You realize you don’t have to ask, right? You could just wait and see if I can get in it myself, then figure out which humanities course I’m taking and…enroll in the same class.”
I smile. “I don’t much like stalking.”
“Is it stalking or using your resources?”
“Just trying not to give you a jump scare when you see me in your class, Fisher.”
She glances at my ballcap on the table, then at me. “What if I choose a class that you’ll absolutely hate?”
“I don’t really care what it is,” I admit. “Just pick whatever you need to get into med school on time.”
“Yeah, okay—”
“You two,” Gavin cuts her off, and the rise of my pulse suddenly flat lines at his presence. “You both start this Saturday. I’m sending you your onboarding paperwork by email.”
“Wait…” Harriet frowns. “Both of us?” She casts a skeptical glance from me to the manager. “I got the job?”
Gavin, thankfully, doesn’t stare me down when he says, “Yeah, you’ll work the same shift together. It’ll be easier to train you at the same time.” He pauses. “And Harriet.”
I slip him a warning glare. Don’t be an ass to her.
“Yeah?” She’s bracing herself for a wrecking ball swing.
“You can smile once in a while, you know.” He says it like a jab and not like friendly advice.
Still, Harriet nods, “Yeah, I’ll work on it.”
Once he’s gone, I tell her, “You don’t have to smile if you don’t want to. He probably won’t even be around when we’re bartending.”
She grabs her backpack strap. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it.” She snatches my ballcap, then holds it out to me. “Here you go, Friend.”
“Keep it.” I like seeing her wear it.
Harriet sucks in, not releasing the breath. “Uh, I can’t.” She slides out of the booth, then shoves the hat in my chest when I stand up. “It’s yours. See you later?” She’s bolting toward the exit, but she slows and spins around, just to wait for my response.
“I’ll call you,” I tell her.
I swear she smiles as she walks out the door.
7
HARRIET FISHER
Icannot stop thinking about him.
The entire subway ride after leaving the End of the World, I replay our conversations, which were easy and natural and not at all taxing. I’m buzzing like I drank three Lightning Bolt! energy drinks back-to-back.
I dazedly touch the damp tendril of my hair. I remember his strong hand sliding up against my neck and cradling the side of my head. I remember the skip of my pulse, the urge to lean my weight into his bare chest, the comfort and growing euphoria of being around him.
A bird shit on me, and he made me feel like nothing was ruined. Not my hair, not the day, not the moment, not me. I was okay.
He made me feel okay.
He let me wear his hat. It’s seriously nothing I should freak out over, but my heart floats higher in my body as I rerun how he fit it on my head, how he tightened it for me. I’m weirdly breathless all over again.
Harriet. I want to groan out my name into the pits of my palms, but I stay quiet and still as the passenger car rattles on the tracks. I feel fucking ridiculous for being giddy over something so basic, but if this is what friendship brings…then I think I could get behind it.
Friendship.
I stare at my empty hands. I could be holding Ben Cobalt’s worn ballcap right now, and I know it seems dumb that I gave it back. Who’d ever reject an article of clothing worn by a Cobalt boy? But I don’t regret it. Because I can’t imagine never seeing him wear it again.
So yeah, I didn’t accept the hat. I’m sure a good percentage of girls would thank me profusely.
I take the subway north to the Upper West Side where MVU’s campus resides. My housing isn’t directly on campus, but it’s only ten blocks away. If I don’t want to walk to class, I can bike.