a deadly storm, an unsolved disappearance, and a small town brimming with secrecy;
an outcast girl, a boy who only knows how to hide, and the world against them;
what could go wrong?
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Boo wakes up to a phone call from Harry the next morning.
"Harry?" she rasps into the phone, slinging one arm over her eyes. The sun beats down mercilessly around her; she wants nothing more than to roll over and hide her face under a pillow.
"Good morning, Sleepyhead," he chirps into her ear. "Rise and shine."
She can't help but let out a tired giggle. "Wasn't I supposed to call you?"
"I got tired of waiting for you to wake up," he simpers. She can hear the smile in his voice.
"More like you couldn't wait to talk to me," she teases.
"Something like that," he laughs, and her heart flutters at the thought of Harry wanting to talk to her. "Are you up for good now?"
"Unfortunately," she grumbles, sitting up in bed and blinking into the light. "Why do you ask?"
He clears his throat. "Would you care to get breakfast? With me?"
For some odd, and rather endearing, reason, he sounds incredibly nervous. Boo grins lazily, feeling her body begin to emerge from sleep at the hopeful tone of his voice.
"Are you asking me on a date?" she asks playfully.
To her surprise, he scoffs and says quite confidently, "Not yet."
"Yet?" she squeaks, now the nervous one.
Harry laughs breathily into the phone and she feels goosebumps race across her skin - the good kind. "Just get dressed, Boo, I'll be there in an hour to get you."
She salutes into the morning air, even though he can't see her. "Sir, yes, sir."
An hour later on the dot, Harry's black car rolls up in front of Boo's apartment. She springs up from her seat on the porch and bounds to the car, feeling rather elated at seeing his silhouette through the passenger window.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he says as she enters the car. The interior smells faintly of clean leather and spiced apples; Boo inhales deeply, drunk on the pleasant smell around her as Harry pulls away from the curb.
"No worries," she says breathlessly. "What's for breakfast today?"
Boo doesn't have to guess very hard to know what he's going to say. In a town so small, there were limited options for everything, including a decent breakfast.
"Jack Creek Diner," Harry grins. "I'm craving pancakes."
"I could've just made pancakes," Boo laughs. "Nana has a great -"
She stops abruptly, the hole in her chest resurfacing as she thinks about Martha once more; about the last day they'd spent together. Her lips roll together and she drops her gaze to her lap.
"Had," she corrects herself quietly. "She had a great recipe."
"I'm sorry, Boo," Harry says, sounding as though he means it. "It'll get easier."
