“You’re going to pay for this,” the black-haired boy croaks. “I’m going to press charges.”
The lifeguard swings around to glare at him. “You will not press any charges.” His voice is scary low, making the boy cower under the full weight of it. “You started it. You press charges and you will have me to deal with. Come on, get out of here, you little piece of shit.”
The boys scramble to their feet, and head for the lockers with their heads hanging.
The lifeguard turns to face us, sparing Cole a look. “You okay?”
Cole gives him a curt nod, a muscle ticking furiously in his clenched jaw.
“Let me know if they cause any more trouble,” Lifeguard says, his eyebrows raised. “Jesus, how old are you again? Where did you learn to fight like that?” He shakes his head and walks away, looking over his shoulder once.
Cole wipes the blood seeping from the gash on his top lip with the back of his hand and then signs, “You okay?”
I nod. “You?”
He nods.
“Let’s go home, then. We’ve had enough excitement for one day,” I say.
When we pull up in front of the Holloway house, Cole turns on the overheard light and shifts on the seat to face me. His mouth tips at the corners. “You jumped on the guy’s back? You’re a little more savage than I thought. I like it.”
I swat his chest as he laughs deeply.
“My little savage Snowflake. Dainty on the outside, but a fighter on the inside.”
This time I laugh. I don’t really have anything to say because I’m basking in his words. I tilt my head up, making sure he can see my mouth. “Thank you for standing up for me.”
“They can talk shit about me. I don’t care. I’m used to it. But when it comes to you, I’m not above hurting anyone. I don’t care who they are.”
“You can’t prevent people from talking, Cole. You can’t fight all my battles. I’m learning to stand up for myself and that is what matters.”
“It doesn’t mean I won’t try.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to fight them alone. I want to be at your side when you do.”
“I would love that. Thank you, Cole.”
“You two make me proud,” Josh sign-speaks before hopping out of the car and sauntering toward his front door.
Cole and I follow suit. He walks me to my door and pulls me into a tight hug.
“See you at ten,” he signs.
I bite the corner of my lip. “One more thing. Will you be my date for the Winter Formal?”
He shifts on his feet a bit, looking uncomfortable. “Crowds are not my thing. I feel overwhelmed when people try to talk to me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I can’t even begin to imagine how that feels for him.
“You should go. Don’t miss it because of me,” he says, raising his hands to cup my face in his palms.
I shake my head and wrap my fingers around his wrists. “I’d rather spend the evening with you.”
He opens his mouth, ready to argue but I stop him with my finger against his lips. His face softens as he studies me. The worried look on his face fades, replaced by a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I have two left feet. Are you okay with that?”
“Are you sure?”
“I changed my mind, just in case some weird guy decides to ask you to the dance. I will be devastated. And the thought of you in someone else’s arms, while I am in my room waiting for you to come home, kills me. If you want to go to the Formal, I am your date.”
I laugh, push myself on my tiptoes and press my lips to his in a kiss. I pull back and release his wrists and sign, “Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” he signs, then says aloud, “You are turning me inside out, Snowflake.”
Laughing, I break away from his hold and turn to walk toward my house. I love you so much it physically hurts to be away from you even for a second, Cole, I whisper inside my head.
THE DAYS FOLLOWING MY DAD and Maggie’s argument have been some of the most difficult ones that I’ve had in a long time. Cole knows something is wrong. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, waiting patiently for me to open up. And I will.
Today, Cole and I are double dating with Simon and Megs. It’s our first date and I’m pretty excited about it. She mentioned there was this new posh Italian restaurant that she has been dying to go visit. I’m not exactly sure what I should wear, which is why I’m standing in front of my closet, staring at my meager wardrobe collection. I duck inside and unhook the heavy lace, mint green dress from the clothes hanger, straighten the black bow-tie around the waist to give it more fluff and lay it on the bed. I dash out of the room and head downstairs to grab my Keds, but freeze when I hear Dad’s raised voice. I retrace my steps, my heart thudding inside my chest and stop outside my mom’s room. I lean forward and press my ear on the door.