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neck when he says it.
    Gabe jerks his head in the direction of a poster on the interior wall of the train. It’s a beautiful woman’s headshot. Her dark hair is in soft waves around her face and she’s flashing a big, toothy grin while giving a thumbs up.
    I read the slogan out loud: “ Maribel Martinez says: ‘Make the right choices, Boston or suffer the consequences.’ ”
    “Endearing, huh? That’s my mother,” he says with an expression that’s more of a grimace than the semi-pained smile I think he’s going for. “Always watching.”
    “Ouch.”
    “So I get why you wouldn’t want to rat yourself out to your sister. It sucks when people are just waiting for you to screw up. And anyway, I’m happy to have the company.”
    He inches in a little closer. I definitely don’t mind.
    “Whoa,” Gabe says. He wraps a sturdy arm around my waist and steadies me as the train comes to a stop and I stumble forward.
    “This is us.” He tips his chin in the direction of the open door.
    Gabe easily pushes his way through the crowds of people in the station, he must do this all the time. He mentioned he lives in the city, so of course he does. He leads me up a flight of stairs and then into the open air, all without loosening his grip on my waist. I stiffen under his soft touch. Not because I’m uncomfortable, but because I’m afraid if I shift in any way, he might let go.
    The rush of cold air stings my kneecaps and whips my ponytail against my face. Goosebumps cover every inch of me that’s exposed, making my skin feel tight. But that’s forgivable because Gabe hasn’t let go. In fact, he’s pulled me in closer, trying to shield me from what wind he can.
    “Here,” he says. He shrugs off the long, navy coat. “Put this on.”
    “I already have a coat,” I say, tugging at the ribbed edges of the cardigan.
    “That’s not a coat, Lena.” My name comes out with a rasp that makes me want to ask him to repeat himself. Over and over.
    “We’re only making one stop. I’ll be okay,” I argue.
    I realize this is a ridiculous argument to have, but I am so darn tired of having people dote on me and worry about every darn thing I do. I was dumb enough to go outside without the right clothes. I was dumb enough to lock myself out. I can suck it up and be a little cold for a few minutes.
    Normal people have to face the consequences of their actions. I’m normal, right? At least for today.
    “This isn’t an argument we’re going to have, Lena.”
    He lets his smoky eyes run down my legs, which feel borderline naked, covered with only these very few inches of cotton. I can’t fight the heat on my cheeks. I don’t know if I’ve ever been checked out before. Or maybe that’s not what he was doing at all. Maybe he was just re-noticing how ridiculous I am for stepping foot outside of my house in these shorts.
    “I’m really—”
    But he doesn’t allow me to protest any more. Gabe stops walking altogether and slips one of my arms through the armhole of the coat for me.
    “I can do it,” I say. I’m not an infant and I refuse to let this guy see me as one—to see me like everyone else in my life does.
    The coat is long and so warm. It almost covers my bare legs completely. I am so glad my stubbornness didn’t win out because I may want to live in this coat.
    As we step out of the crowd and the city opens up, and  I take it all in.
    The densely packed, old brick buildings, the ornate signs that mark everything from churches to sports bars, the way the sunlight hits the icicles on the tall buildings and acts like a prism. The light is different here than it is in Gloucester. Maybe it’s not as crisp and perfectly blue, but it’s somehow just as vibrant. The streets look confusing to me, and are filled with the honking horns of hyper-aggressive drivers and crowds of jaywalkers, but Gabe navigates with no problem.
    This is it.
    This is my one shot. This is my one day of not being the pain in the ass sister