There are three news vans parked in front of the school when I get there. Either they don’t know what my car looks like yet or the principal has banned them from the grounds, because they don’t follow me into the parking lot.

I park as close to the building as possible, but before I can get out of the car, I see Jake walking toward me from across the lot. He looks great, as always, in his crimson and white letter jacket, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

His grin sets my insides on fire.

He opens my passenger’s side door, letting in a gust of frigid air as he slides onto the seat. “Hey.”

“Hey. Were you waiting for me?”

Jake shrugs. “You said we could talk today.”

“Yeah.” And I’m even more grateful now that the student parking lot is behind the school, where the reporters can’t see us.

“Does that mean you’re thinking about what I said the other day?” He reaches across the center console and traces the length of my index finger with his own. “About us starting over?”

“Actually, I’m still thinking about the things you haven’t said.”

He blinks at me. “Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I heard about your dad. I didn’t want to—”

“Not that. You’re right. There would have been no good way for you to even start that conversation with me. I’m talking about the paternity test results. My mom said she called you out of class yesterday. Why didn’t you say anything while we were on the phone?”

“Because I wanted you to believe me without proof. Just this once.” His crooked smile feels like a dagger straight to my heart. “And if you weren’t going to do that, then I wanted to tell you in person. That’s part of why I wanted to come over.”

“I did believe you.”

Fact-Check Rating: Inconclusive. I really wanted to believe him. But I couldn’t quite let go of the possibility that he was lying.

“But I’m glad you got proof, for your sake,” I add.

“I didn’t need it. I’ve never been with anyone but you, Beckett.” He takes my hand, and suddenly I’m clinging to him, grasping for balance as my head and my heart pull me in two different directions.

“Then why were you hiding texts from me? And don’t say you weren’t, because—”

“I was,” he says. I try to pull my hand free, but he tightens his grip. “But those texts weren’t about some other girl. There’s no one else. There never has been.”