The period passes by with me fidgeting, glancing at the doorway every few seconds like Emmitt will magically appear, and being disappointed every time he doesn’t.

I haven’t let myself think about our kiss in the park and what it might mean for our future. I also haven’t let myself think about the picture he uploaded and what it might mean that he equates home to love.

If I do, I’m afraid I’m going to burst into flames.

As soon as Italian is done, I pack my things and flag down Grant. “Wait up!” I call, jogging down the hall.

Grant picks up the pace.

I gape at him, nearly sprinting to catch up. When I finally do, he’s grimacing, refusing to meet my gaze.

That’s not a good sign. “Do you know where Emmitt is?”

“Nope,” Grant says, laughing nervously. “I have absolutely no clue. He could be anywhere. Who knows! Not me!”

I level him a flat look. “Really?”

“Really,” he says, nodding far too enthusiastically.

For a brief moment, I consider threatening him with bodily harm, because he’s obviously lying. Then I remember I’m trying to be a better person and I step back, scowling to myself. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Grant says, nearly squeaking.

I roll my eyes, waving him away. “Yeah, okay. Don’t be late for class.”

Grant nods, slowly backing away, but the way he’s eyeing me suspiciously says he doesn’t believe I’m willing to leave it at that.

I sigh, wiggling my fingers in a goodbye, before turning around and heading to my own class for second period.

As I walk, I shoot Emmitt a text. are you around? I know we left things off on a less than pleasant note and... I want to apologize but not over text. you deserve better than that. let me know when we can talk. hope you’re doing okay with the contest and all <3

51

Emmitt doesn’t show up to school for the whole week. I have to take several deep breaths a day to keep from bothering Grant until he gives me answers.

It must be something film related. I don’t know what else it could be.

After our weekly movie night on Friday, Anam and I muse on Emmitt’s disappearance, but neither of us can come up with a plausible explanation.

There’s still some tension between my sister and me, but there’s also so much love it’s almost overwhelming. She’s right—we’re going to get through this, one way or another.

Then Anam earnestly offers to send Emmitt hate mail and I have no choice but to thwack her with a pillow. “Do not do that.”

“Okay, okay,” Anam says, laughing as she flees my room. “But the offer has no expiration date!”