“I think that’s a question only you can answer.”

“I guess Cromwell talked to you last night.”

“You guessed correctly.”

I sighed and reached for the bedside lamp, but Hayden suddenly stood in front of me. I don’t know how he moved so fast. Up close, I could see his expression, but couldn’t gain anything from it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the other stuff?” he demanded, his voice low.

I should’ve known he’d be mad, but I hadn’t been concerned with that last night. I started to turn, but he caught my arm. “We haven’t exactly been getting along.”

Hayden lowered his head, meeting my wide-eyed stare and holding it. “That’s not a good enough reason, Ember.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to bother you with it. Anyway, it was just hamburger meat and I did overreact.”

“What about the dolls and the noose? What about the fact that you told a teacher and not me, Ember?”

Well, apparently Cromwell had told him everything. “Mr. Theo”

“The English teacher?”

“Yeah, but he knew about the rabbit. And I didn’t mean to tell him about the rest, but he knew something was going on and”

Hayden cut me off, eyes flaring. “You told him over me?”

His words meant something. It wasn’t me telling a teacher over him. Or even a stranger over him. You told him over me. I recognized the look in his eyes, because I felt it whenever he left lunch with Phoebe. Not anger. Not even disappointment. “You’reare you actually jealous?”

“What?”

“You are! You’re jealous because I told Mr. Theo over you.” I yanked my arm back, but he pulled me right up against him. My legs were flush with his, our chests met. I could feel him take his next deep breath, and I forgot what I was saying.

The look of jealousy slipped away, replaced by something equally frustrating. His hands slid up to my shoulders, sending tiny shivers down my body. He backed me up until my legs hit my desk. “Can I?”

“Sure.” I had no idea what I was agreeing to.

Hayden lifted me and sat me on the desk. His hands lingered on my hips, his touch burning through the thin cloth. A smoky scent, like a candle blown out, wafted through my room, but there was no source.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my breath hitching.

“I don’t know.”

“Hayden?” I whispered.

“Yes?” He shifted closer, his warm breath brushing the skin of my neck like the night in the cabin. This was our form of kissingour soft, feathery-light kisses that never made contact.

My hand rose reflexively, wanting to touch him. I stopped myself a mere inch from his cheek. Helplessly, my fingers curled around thin air.