Book 17: I'll Know If You Do

Aris

“I have to leave tomorrow morning.”

Posey’s fingers are unnaturally warm as she carefully fits the mask to my face. She tilts my head back, then to the side, smoothing her thumbs over my cheek where the third prong should be. I can’t stop looking at her when she’s like this–hyper-focused, her green eyes sharp and unyielding. It’s the same side of her I got to witness this summer every time I barged into her room to harass her and waste her time while she tried to study into the later hours of the night.

I feel like we’ve both lived an entire lifetime since then.

“How does it feel?”

“A little small.”

Her brow furrows. She angles the mask upwards so the middle prong rests directly over my nose, which feels wrong, and judging by the frustration behin