Pop-Tarts at Nate’s. She’d been having them there since she was five years old. And now..and now..

“Mom and Dad want me to go to boarding school next year,” she announced, her enormous, almost navy blue eyes growing huge and glassy as they welled up with unexpected tears. Go away to boarding school and leave Nate? It hurt too much to even think about.

Nate flinched as if he’d been slapped in the face by an invisible hand. He grabbed the other Pop-Tart from the packet and hopped up on the counter next to her. “No way,” he responded decisively. She couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t...