“It doesn’t have to be here,” she says quickly, placing a hand on my arm. “Come over after school. Or we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I can make you forget what happened.”

The bell chimes overhead, and I go still. “Make me forget?”

“Yeah, we can watch movies or something.”

“Okay.”

I’m unsure of what I believe, but one thing is certain: I’m not setting foot in the Harris house again without talking to Mason first.

At lunch, I wait in the parking lot, arms crossed over my chest, bouncing on the balls of my feet impatiently. The rain has stopped now, but the threat of another downpour remains—like if you took a stick and poked the clouds, it would all come rushing out.

There’s a restlessness in my bones that’s matched by the wind as I stand next to the car. My conversation with Zoe sparked something within me—an anger. I don’t understand why it’s there, but I can’t spend another second at this school without doing something about it.

I stand up straight as the person I’ve been waiting for exits the building. Mason steps outside, letting the door fall closed behind him, doing a sweep of the parking lot before spotting me.

He doesn’t say anything as he reaches around me to unlock the door, putting us in incredibly close proximity. I stare at the side of his face before his eyes flicker to mine, catching me off guard. Even though we’re outside, it feels like we’re in an enclosed space with little room to move, and it makes my heart race.

“Get in,” he tells me in a low voice, and I obey, moving past him and heading to the passenger’s side.

Once we’re both inside, he pulls out of the parking lot, and I question why I feel more relaxed in his presence than I have all morning. The tension begins to vacate my body the farther we drive from Pender Falls High. I wonder what he’s thinking. I’ve made it clear I want to talk to him, but now that we’re here, I’m not sure what I intended to say.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“What?”

“It’s lunch.”

“Oh,” I say, blinking. “I guess.”

Mason brings us to the Wendy’s drive-thru, and when we get to the pay window, I reach for my backpack, unzipping it to search for my wallet, until I feel his fingers touch my arm.

“I’ve got it,” he tells me smoothly, and I cease my movements, closing my backpack and nodding meekly.

“Thanks.”