(Luke POV)
I’m at Julia’s door, rain dripping off my hood, juggling two coffees that are burning my damn hands. My phone’s buzzing in my pocket, I shot her a text like fifteen minutes ago, “Hey, you good?” She hit back quick: “Not really.” Didn’t even think, just grabbed the cups and bolted over. Jake’s not around, as usual. Probably at her mom’s again, like he’s avoiding me or something. I bang on the door, twice, loud enough to wake the neighbors.
She cracks it open, hair a total mess, eyes all red and puffy, scarf half falling off her neck. She stares at me, blinks like I’m a ghost, then shuffles back. I step in, kick the door shut with my boot, and shove her latte at her, extra cream, her thing. “Here, thought you might need this,” I say, probably sounding dumber than I meant to.
