The moment he got to two minutes and thirty seconds, he poured the milk, stirred in the powder and added marshmallows, placed the pan in the sink, and hurried, as quick as carrying two filled mugs of piping hot chocolate would allow without spilling.
His heart thundered in his chest. What would he do if she’d managed to slip away into the night? He supposed he could follow her and watch to see what happened. If she left, he hoped she’d return home and he’d be more confident approaching her in the morning.
He’d have to stay up all night anyway at this point. What if she got the nerve to run off forever? He couldn’t let her do that. It was too dangerous.
Putting both mugs into one hand, Kota made sure the door was closed behind him before he climbed up the stairs. The stairs were tricky to navigate with the hot drinks in his hands.
He forced himself to slow down, holding his breath as he ascended.
She was sitting by the window seat after changing into the clothes he’d given to her. Her small frame was evident with the way the T-shirt draped around her shoulders and how she’d rolled up the pants around her ankles.
She was very still, very quiet as she stared out.
Nerves started to work up through Kota. Her hair was still a little messy and damp; ringlets framed her cheeks. Her face was mostly in shadow with the way she angled to look out the window, but there was a quiet beauty to her.
He dismissed this thought immediately. He needed to focus and not get too distracted. She was in trouble, after all. This wasn’t a date.
He searched for the right words to say to her. “I guess you’re staying,” he said, and then instantly regretted it. Wasn’t it obvious? He forced a gentle smile anyway, and hoped she wouldn’t think him too stupid.
She said nothing, but turned to him with those big green eyes of hers, studying him and then focusing on the two blue mugs he carried.
He looked down, almost forgetting he’d been carrying them. “I hope you’re good with marshmallows.”
Again she didn’t answer, but she smiled in such a strange way. He liked it, and yet, there was something off. He had seen it before, right before he had gone downstairs. She seemed haunted and her smile didn’t reach her eyes to light them the way he’d expected.
He approached slowly and then tilted his head. “Scoot over,” he said.
She shifted and then slid to the very furthest wall away from him, her knees up and against her chest, like a shield against her body.
Kota hesitated, flinching at her retreat and instinct to protect herself. He tightened his smile, hoping it appeared to be genuine. Her move caused him to be uncertain about where to sit, and he wondered if it might be better to sit on the floor rather than next to her. Instead, he sat with his back to the wall, facing her in the window seat alcove.
He handed her the mug carefully, holding it until he was sure she had a grip on the handle and wouldn’t burn her hand. He waited until she took a sip, and struggled to drum up something to talk to her about. He needed to establish some connection with her if he was going to get her to trust him. “So where did you move from?” He sipped quickly from his mug, wanting something to do with his hands to keep from fidgeting.
Her cheeks went red and her eyes darted toward the window. “A tiny town in Illinois.”
She paused there, and he waited, but she seemed distracted by the rain or the darkness, or perhaps looking for something else.
“Did you have any friends?” he asked when it was obvious she wasn’t going to continue.
Her head shook, and she returned her focus to him. “No one I would write to. I really wasn’t that close to anyone.”
No close friends. He didn’t like this at all. He had assumed she had lived in Illinois for a while, though. Maybe her family moved regularly and she hadn’t had time to make friends. He silenced his suspicions. He needed to know more before he could draw any conclusions. He traced his finger along the lip of the mug, thinking of what else to ask, something that would generate more than a one sentence response. “You’ll be going to the public school, right?” Again he berated himself silently for the idiotic question. Of course she would, unless she was going to a prep school of some sort, and those were of limited supply in the immediate area.
“Like everyone else, I guess,” she said.
Yeah, silly question. “What grade?” he asked.
“Sophomore,” she said.
He sat up, hopeful. They’d most likely be attending the same school this year. If he made a connection with her, and if he could determine he could help her, he might be able to convince Mr. Blackbourne to change her schedule and put her in some of the same classes. The only problem was, Kota was going to take advantage of being in this school since they had to be there anyway, meaning he was planning to take more advanced courses.
No one would mind if he changed things up a bit to secure a friendship to help out someone in need. He didn’t have many favors left, so he hoped this would be something he could do on his own. Maybe all she needed was a friend. “Me, too,” he said. “What are you going to take this year?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really know what I want.”
It was like pulling teeth to get her to open up. He studied her as he sipped his cocoa and tried to figure out what would get her to talk to him. They might not make it to when school started if she didn’t find someone she could confide in, and instead decided to
