My “okay, whatever” drowns in the sound of another car pulling right up to us, and then a new male voice says, “Shit, I’m so sorry. I was running low on gas and the closest gas station was the one with the skinhead, so I had to drive another ten minutes out of the way. I tried to text but it’s a total dead zone—”

“It’s fine,” Miguel bites out, yanking open the passenger door to the silver Malibu. “See?” he says to me. “Cousin’s here. I’m good. But thanks.”

The driver whirls in his seat to look at me, clearly not having noticed anyone else was in the lot. Slighter and darker than Miguel, with eyelashes so long they fan his cheekbones when he blinks and a face that’s softly rounded everywhere Miguel’s could cut glass, it’s hard to imagine the two of them share an ounce of DNA.

Of course, some cousins don’t. But the way they both eye me before they peel out of the lot is … something.

I think back to what Amber said about how their relationship isn’t real, and looking at Miguel now, I know it’s true.

But as to why they have this arrangement … I’m starting to think there might be more to it.

Chapter Five

-AMBER-

“Ammo! Where is your focus today?”

I groan as I pick myself up from the grass, rubbing my bruised dignity as I wither under Crystal’s glare. “Sorry, Crys. I’m here, I swear.”

It’s kind of a lie—my brain has been stuck in Jack Walsh’s “bedroom” for days—but Crystal’s right to yell at me; I have to do better than this. I just can’t stop thinking about how we’re sneaking around, how I’m keeping the truth about Miguel from Jack and the truth about Jack from Miguel, and all I want is to be able to enjoy finally sharing the halls with someone who gives me butterflies.

“You okay?” Cara asks, passing me my bottle of water. “I mean, thank you for stopping just short of dropping me, but this isn’t like you.”

She’s definitely right about that, but I gratefully take the drink to avoid answering and down a huge swig. I wish a million times over that I could ask Cara for advice, the same way I’ve asked her for advice on everything from my campaign for captain to outfit choices for dances and parties. But I can’t tell her about Jack or Miguel either.…

Maybe there’s a way I can get her advice without using specifics, though, because Lord knows I need to talk to somebody.

“Just … having some relationship thoughts. I—”