I nod again, turning off the television and pulling a sweatshirt on to hide the fact I’m not even wearing a bra. I feel silly asking them to wait for me to change, and I’m not sure what I would put on instead. The warm clothes I brought—sweaters and fleeces—are nothing like the cute tops Grace and McKenzie are wearing. None of them are wearing jackets.

All I do is slide on a pair of sneakers, leaving my sleep shorts on. At least I’ll be comfortable.

Finn doesn’t comment on my attire as I slide my phone and room key in the pouch of my sweatshirt and walk out into the hallway. He doesn’t say anything at all, and neither does Grace nor McKenzie.

Apprehension swells, asking me what the hell I’m doing. I could be snuggled under the covers right now. As far as I know, Grace and McKenzie don’t get in trouble, but Finn is a wild card.

Debauchery on this trip might be expected, but it’s certainly not condoned. If we’re caught, we could be suspended. My whole future could be gone in a flash. Nerves wriggle in my stomach, tightening into a ball of dread.

Finn stays silent as we walk down the carpeted hall, which must be a record for him. Usually, he won’t shut up. In addition to not distracting me from my anxiety, it makes me worry what he’s concerned about. Does he regret inviting me along?

There’s audible commotion behind several of the doors we pass, and it relaxes me some. Obviously, Holden’s friends aren’t the only ones flouting the rules. If the chaperones decide to check on anything, that lowers the odds we’ll be caught.

Finn finally speaks as we’re nearing the elevator bank. Unfortunately, his choice of topic makes me wish he had stayed quiet. “So you and Holden…what happened there?”

I tense, I can’t help it. I knew coming was a bad idea. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Cassia. You and Holden used to be tight. Then one morning he’s telling me and Mark not to talk to you.”

I barely suppress the flinch that wants to surface. I could tell him the truth—that I’m just as much in the dark as he is. That Holden chose to end our friendship without consulting me, and I was too confused and heartbroken to consider confronting him until it felt too late and like too much time had passed. To the point that it felt pathetic to still be affected by it, to want to know answers.

The truth makes me look sad and discarded, like a used toy cast aside in pursuit of shinier objects. I’d rather Finn—not to mention Grace and McKenzie, who are eavesdropping—think that I played a more active role in the separation.