With a timid wave, she makes her way inside, and I step into the building shortly after, an idea brewing in the back of my mind. I move through the hallways, searching the crowd for a familiar face in the brief few minutes before my next class begins.

I find Mason exchanging his books at his locker.

“There’s a party at Boulder Trail tonight,” I say, by way of greeting. “Did you know about it?”

“Alina,” he replies. “Hello to you too.”

After collecting his books, he sidles up next to me as I head toward study hall, his arm brushing mine. I’m still not sure how to act around him. Things undoubtedly shifted between us when we kissed, but we essentially decided to shelve those feelings for now. Easier said than done.

“I think we should go.”

“I thought we’d decided that neither of us like parties,” he remarks, skeptical.

“We don’t,” I agree. “But shit always goes down at parties, right? It could be a chance for secrets to come out.”

His face lights up in interest, though he works to control his tone, voice low and smooth. “Good point. You should try to get something out of Damien. He’ll be the easiest to crack.”

“I don’t know,” I say, grimacing. “I haven’t spoken to him since the breakup. He’s definitely not over it.”

“Even better. He’s probably desperate to talk to you.”

Mason takes in the fleeting hesitation that passes across my face and ducks his head toward me, furrowing his eyebrows. We come to a stop outside of study hall, stepping out of the flow of traffic.

“You don’t have to worry,” he says. “I’ll be there too.”

“I know,” I return gratefully. “But what if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we try something else.”

The conviction in his voice is hard to ignore. When he speaks the words so confidently, it’s easy to believe them.

“We’re so close,” he presses. “Hang on a little bit longer.”

After touching his fingertips to my shoulder gently, he ducks his head, disappearing in the opposite direction.

The sight of him walking away has a foreboding sense of finality to it, like something has been set in motion, and by the next time I see him, things will have changed. I try not to think about it, going through the rest of my classes with a lack of focus and nagging feelings of anxiety.

When the final bell rings at the end of the day, I grab my backpack, slinging it over my shoulders and hurrying through the school, wanting to catch Zoe before she leaves. Her demeanor has been different ever since the assembly, though I can tell she’s trying her best to appear as though nothing is wrong.