“At the game?”
“Yep. You kept up. You remembered the names. You didn’t trample the map.”
“I would never trample your map.”
“It’s not my map. It’s the party’s map.”
“Still,” I said. “You made it. That counts.”
He stopped for a moment to watch the wind roll leaves across the stone path. “You didn’t have to come tonight.”
“I wanted to.”
He met my eyes. His expression went soft in a way I hadn’t seen before, as if he hadn’t expected honesty from me.
“You think I invited myself because I wanted to break into your secret nerd lair?” I asked.
“That is exactly what you did,” Bennet said. “I know the pranks you Bel boys pull on other houses.”
“Or maybe I just wanted to hang out with you.”
He looked away too quickly, almost like the words had struck him. His breath hitched. He tried to play itoff with a quiet laugh, but his composure faltered long enough for me to notice.
I pretended not to.
We walked again, slowly, with the quiet settling around us like a blanket. A little breeze swept through and rustled the bare branches above. Bennet’s hand brushed mine by accident. He looked down fast, breath held, but he didn’t move away.
I wanted to catch his hand.
I didn’t.
I wasn’t ready to break the fragile thing forming between us, and I knew that even one rash move would shatter it. Why that mattered so much to me, I couldn’t say, but the fact that it did was unbeatable.
We followed the curve of the path. Music drifted from some distant dorm but faded again once we crossed into a darker side path. Bennet’s shoulder touched mine for a moment when the walkway narrowed. He stayed close, not pressed against me, but near enough that I felt his warmth through his coat.
“I thought you wouldn’t show up tonight,” he said suddenly.
“I know.”
He shook his head and made a small sound that might have been a laugh. “You caught me off guard. That’s all.”
“Did you want me to come?”
He hesitated. Then he nodded. “Yes. I did.”
The words pulled something loose inside me.
Bennet kept walking, but he glanced up at me once,and that single look held a new kind of warmth, something I wasn’t sure he realized he had revealed.
We turned the final corner toward the Ben Houses.
Bennet slowed when the familiar shape of the Bel House came into view. Golden light spilled from the downstairs windows and formed a bright path across the yard. Voices and music floated through the glass. The steady bass thumped softly under the quiet of the night. The porch lights burned warm against the dark campus and gave the house a lived-in glow that always made it feel like a place where someone waited on the other side of the door.
Peanut’s favorite toy, a chewed-up rope knot, lay forgotten in the grass near the steps. I could imagine him rolling over it again tomorrow morning with the same joy he showed every single day of his life. The sight made something inside my chest soften.
Bennet noticed the music. He paused near the walkway and gazed at the windows with a curious expression. The scarf around his neck fluttered in the wind, and the lamplight caught the edge of his jaw. His face shifted between shadow and glow as he took in the noise of the house.
“You still have time to enjoy your natural habitat,” he said.