“It’ll still be here.” Although I can’t see myself ever really wanting to come back. Maybe my mom and Lucy can come visit me wherever I end up. And I’m hoping Kingston will want to go with me. Get the hell out of this soul-sucking town.

“What about me?” he asks, his voice so damn sad it nearly crushes my heart, and I settle down on the bed to face him, mirroring his position.

“You can come too.”

He crinkles his nose, looking horrified at the thought. “Leave Kensley?”

“Yeah.” I nod, holding my breath while I wait for his answer. Even though I know it already.

“I’m not leaving. I love it here. I thought you did too.” His tone is accusing, like I’ve somehow lied to him.

I wince. I don’t know where he got that idea from. I swear I’ve been complaining about this town since we were in preschool. “Things change.”

He sits up, anger streaking through his eyes and maybe a little hurt. I also sit up to face him. “Things change? You don’t say? Every fucking thing is changing. Every. Thing.”

“Change isn’t a bad thing,” I try, but he’s not hearing it.

He leaps up from the bed with panic in his eyes. “Yes. It is. You’re changing. You’re leaving. Kennedy wants me to be some respectable businessman or something. I don’t know what she wants, but it isn’t me.”

I snort at that as I climb off my bed, hoping we can joke about this and be done. “Right. You in a suit. Nobody wants that. Not even Kenn.”

His eyes only darken. “That’s what you want too though, right? Me to go to college and be someone I’m not.”

“No.” I shake my head, walking closer to him, but he backs away from me, and it stings, splintering my heart as I notice just how mad he is.

“Right. You’re going to college. You’re going to live this fancy life and never come back. I’ll just be that guy you were friends with once. The guy you played football with.”

“Kingston . . .” I keep my voice calm but stay in the same spot. “You’ll always be my best friend, but I can’t stay here if I get the opportunity to get out.”

“I don’t get you. I don’t get wanting to leave everything behind. It doesn’t make any sense. Here, you’re a king.”

“I’m not.” I shake my head, my stomach aching. Because he thinks I am. Maybe the entire school does too. But I’m not. If they knew who I really was—the real me—there’s no way I’d be their king. I’d be exiled.