“I don’t. I go to school, remember?” I arch a brow. “Plus, I’m grounded.”
He gives me an exasperated look, lips pinched. “You know what, consider yourself officially ungrounded.” My eyes lift to his with surprise. “It’s killing me seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice dropping. “I-I know I don’t help things. I’m rarely here and I … I don’t like talking about what happened.”
“Even if you did I wouldn’t want to.”
The tension in his shoulders ease a small bit at that.
“Change your clothes, we’re going out for dinner.?
?
I sigh, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him further. When he sees me moving to get off my bed he gives one single nod and eases the door closed.
I swap out my sweatpants and sweatshirt for jeans and a nice sweater. I even put on my nicest pair of boots. It’s silly, but I hope he’ll see that I’m putting in effort.
When I come out of my room, he’s already by the door shrugging into his coat.
“What do you want to eat?” He adjusts the collar so it lies flat.
“Sushi?” I suggest.
He grins. “Haven’t had that in forever. Sounds good to me. I know the best place. We’ll walk.”
I wrinkle my nose, reaching for my own coat hanging on the hook by the door. “But it’s cold.”
“It’s not far,” he promises.
I pull my yellow mittens out of my coat pocket, slipping them on.
We ride down in the elevator and I struggle to keep up with his long-legged stride as he crosses the lobby. I’m five-five, so not too short, but Sage is six foot and seems to get everywhere with only a few giant steps.
We exit onto the street and I burrow into my coat.
Sage lets out a laugh when he sees me. I probably look like a turtle attempting to hide in its shell.
“Come on.” He tosses his arm out, draping it around my shoulders. He tugs me against his side, ruffling my hair. I should’ve worn a hat.
When he smiles down at me, I see how forced it is.
This is as hard for him as it is me. But he’s trying, so I have to try too.
The sushi restaurant is only another block over from the condo. There’s a short wait before we get a table. We end up tucked into a back corner near the bathrooms. It’s not an ideal spot, but I’m starving so I won’t complain.
“How’s school going?” Sage asks after giving the waiter our order.
“It’s school.”
He narrows his hazel eyes. “You can give me a better answer than that.”
I pull the sleeves of my sweater further down my hands, wrapping my fingers around the edges to cover my palms. “Just trying to pass and get out.”
“Are you still not sure about college?” He tips his head at the waiter when he sets down two glasses of water.
Sage helped me fill out applications and I mailed out a huge stack a couple weeks ago.
“No.” The one word answer floats through the air.
He rests his elbows on the table. If mom were here she’d scold him for it.