I listen intently as Jack talks to Harry. “I went to a charter school in Vermont,” he says. “I want to be a writer, but I could also see myself going into teaching, like my brother. Maybe I’ll start my own charter school, or I don’t know. I could probably just work at my brother’s, but I don’t want to go into the family business. I have my own ambitions.”

I make a mental note to ask Jack more about his family. And his future. But there’s a pinch in my gut because I want his future to include me, and that seems like a wild thing to think. Right?

“Ambition is a good thing,” Harry says.

“Says the Laurene guy,” Jack quips.

“Gotta go big and be bold to make it, you know,” Harry says, not at all sounding the dad he dresses as. “Charter schools are great alternatives. All you need is one big donor, and I know there are plenty of rich assholes who feign philanthropic interest.”

“The one I went to relies on donations. It was the best experience I ever had.” Jack pauses, his eyes traveling to me. “So far, anyway.” He smiles, and it’s filled with hope. “They were always planning trips to Europe and Canada and stuff. We went to Iceland to see the northern lights during my senior year and learn how Icelanders utilize the land to harness green energy and about all the environmental protections in place there.”

As Jack dazzles with his knowledge of green energy, Rae leans in and whispers in my ear, “Love him.”

Same, girl.

He continues, “The school also offered electives like kayaking and white water rafting. I’d love to teach there and write books during the summer months. That’s the plan.” Jack is now beaming.

“You’re a writer?” Harry asks.

“Yes, I told you this!” Rae yells, slurring a bit. “Remember the poem he wrote Chase?”

My heart plummets to the floor.

“Babe, I think you’re drunk,” Harry says exaggeratedly. But he can’t delete what she said. It’s out there now.

“No, remember I showed you the text?” Rae trips over her heels and tumbles into Harry, who struggles to hold her upright since he’s a full foot shorter than her.

Jack’s head whips fast toward me.

Harry, quick to notice the tension, takes Rae’s arm, and they break away from the group until they’re at the back. “How about we go over here, huh, babe?”

Worry lines crack the glass of Jack’s face. Betrayal pulses through his clenched jaw.

I don’t know what to say.

He speeds up to Rhett, who sulk-walks behind Benny and Xavier.

Shit.

This is not how I pictured tonight going. At all.

“Apparently, we’re here?” Benny says.

The only house in the thick woods looks dark. Empty. Save for one hot-pink neon sign in the front window that blinks, You Wish You Were Here! There’s a faint hum of music, an electronic beat that pulses far away. Like pretty much all the off-campus houses around CIA, it’s dingy and small and looks like the set of some C-rated horror flick, complete with a broken concrete path to the front door sprouting dead weeds in the cracks.