Maybe it was something else. Maria had been acting strange for a long time. Since last year, really. Ever since she’d moved in with Lily.

Delilah was sort of jealous, to tell the truth, of how those two had become best friends overnight. In her whole life, there had never been anyone Delilah liked as much as Maria and Lily seemed to like each other. Even her ex-boyfriends never got that close. There was something about the way Maria and Lily seemed to read each other’s mind that made Delilah feel wistful.

On the other hand, something about Lily had always struck Delilah as . . . off.

Even that one time. At the pool party at Tamika’s house at the end of freshman year.

Everyone else had gone in to watch TV, and Delilah and Lily had been the only two left outside. They were lying on lawn chairs in their bikinis, sipping screwdrivers through straws and giggling about nothing in particular. After a while, Delilah leaned her head on Lily’s shoulder, and Lily turned toward her. Their eyes met. They stopped giggling. They kissed.

Delilah didn’t remember who started it, but it was probably her. Delilah tended to be the one who started these things. Usually with guys, but it worked out the same either way. Her therapist said she did stuff like that because she was trying to “reclaim affection she felt lacking in her immediate family environment.” Blah, blah, blah.

She’d felt guilty after the party, though. The next day, she’d seen the sappy look on Lily’s face when she swung into French III on her crutches and she’d realized that for Lily, that kiss hadn’t been some fun little experiment. It had been the start of something else altogether.

Delilah tried to avoid Lily after that, but when you went to a school as tiny as Acheron, avoiding wasn’t really an option. She figured disabled people were probably shy, so she wouldn’t have to worry about Lily bringing up what had happened. She was wrong.

A week after that day by the pool, Lily followed Delilah to the hall bathroom during a room party. That was right after Austin had gotten his brother’s ID, so both girls were pretty drunk. They’d gone into a stall and kissed again, because apparently Delilah still hadn’t learned her lesson. After a minute she came to her senses and told Lily what she should’ve told her the first time—that she was flattered, but she wasn’t gay.

Lily stared at her like she was speaking Gaelic. She stammered out some half apology in that crazy Southern accent of hers. Then slowly, slowly, she backed out of the stall and crutched her way out of the room.