"Yeah but . . ." Cecily glanced between us. "Callum basically saved you from being molested . . . so . . . you kind of owe us one."

"She doesn't owe anyone anything." I stood. "I'm leaving anyhow."

"But we just started," Cecily cried.

"It's too distracting to study in here tonight." I stepped to the table and gathered my things into my bag. "I'll study at home."

Logan snorted. "Yeah, sure you will."

I stared at him. "I'm pretty sure we already "discussed" my fist and you shutting up last session."

"And you wanting to fuck Brighton's daughter," he nodded. "Yeah, I don't think much has changed, Trovatto."

"Because allowing someone to take advantage of her would have been a better choice? I'm sure Dr. Brighton would've loved to learn an entire group of his students stood by and didn't help his daughter." I slung my bag over my shoulder. "Not that he expects much from you, Logan."

I walked out of the cafe without turning around to ask Everly if she'd follow me. Three minutes later she rounded the corner, where I waited, back to the brick of the cafe.

"I'm not going home," she said. "I came here tonight for the show."

"Thought you had a friend in surgery?"

"I do. That's why I have to be here. I told him I'd tell him all about it when he wakes up."

"Him," I mused. I pushed away from the wall. "Goodnight, Everly Anne."

"Stay for the show. Please?"

"I don't ever watch the shows."

"Why not? The last one was pretty good. Someone was appointed to answer questions as Jesus." She smiled and when she did, I wanted to sneer in return, to ask her about him, to apologize for acting like I had a claim on her. But all I saw was her softness staring back at me. For a stolen moment, we were caught up like that. And as I searched her face for answers to the feelings budding inside of me, I realized why she was beautiful in a way I hadn't seen in other girls-girls like Cecily with the coconut oil skin and no interesting secrets. Everly Anne's beauty rivaled the way autumn leaves strip branches to the bone. Her structure stood raw before me, the secrets wading in the depths of her eyes, so close I could call on them if I desired, knowing, for me, she would answer.

"Everly Anne," I whispered to my shoes.

"Stay." Her hand was on my arm for such a brief second I couldn't even reply. As she let go I came back to the real world where the theater-cafe filled with customers to watch the show Noelle hosted in honor of my mother. The show Everly Anne wanted me to watch with her, clueless of its purpose.

"I can't." I stepped away.

"Okay." She glanced to the door, then back to me. "Did you do that to Logan's face?"

"Logan's mouth did that to his face."

"Stop hitting people because of me, Callum."

"It wasn't about you." She seemed surprised by that, and I stepped closer. "Should it have been about you?"

"The only time you'd ever hang around with Logan is by force-like study group or class-so I'm not sure what you could be discussing that would get you angry enough to punch him in the face, unless it had to do with me . . . ?" she looked toward the window where the group sat inside. "But maybe I'm being a little too hopeful."

"Or ridiculous."

"Kind of the same thing," she smiled shyly.

"I didn't punch him because of Cecily, either."

She nodded. "But you knew who I was wondering about."

"I'm not dating Cecily. I'm not even interested in Cecily."

Everly looked up at me. "You don't owe me an explanation. I'm just the girl you're studying."

A dagger through my chest would have hurt less.

I held her gaze. "Clearly."

"Don't hit strangers for me. I can take care of myself."