And I just want out of here before that happens or I die of the crippling stranglehold this town has on me. “You are!” he shouts, and I wince again.

“I don’t want to be the goddamn king.” My shoulders droop as he studies me closely. “I don’t want to be here. I want to graduate and get out. I want to do whatever the hell I want to. Freely.”

I want to tell him the truth.

But I can’t.

The way he’s looking at me now—like I’m a total stranger to him—is exactly what I fear if he knows the whole truth. I can’t handle it.

“You can do that here. You don’t need to run.”

“I do.” I point to my chest. “I really do. I’m drowning here. And you don’t see it because you don’t want to.” I barely choke out the words I know are the truth. He sees what he wants to see and always has.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He looks completely confused, and again, guilt washes over me about keeping this secret from him.

“It means I need out of here. Kensley is crushing me.”

I want more than anything for him to understand, but he only looks even more hurt and confused. “I am Kensley. This is all I’ve ever known. All I ever really want to know. If you escape Kensley, you’re escaping me. Don’t you get that?”

I try not to allow the sob trapped in my throat to escape—it burns like acid. Because I do get that. “You’re more than this town, and so am I.”

“No, Cam.” He walks to my bedroom door, pulling it open and looking at me over his shoulder. “I’m not. And I don’t want to be. You just don’t get that, do you?”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond—and I probably couldn’t have come up with anything anyway—before he leaves, slamming the door behind him. I flop down on my bed, my heart and stomach aching like hell.

I can leave here. I can make it happen. That I’m sure of.

But if I do, I’ll lose my best friend.

Of that, I’m also sure.

9. Kingston

NINE

KINGSTON

“What do you think of this one?” Kennedy shows me yet another pink sparkly dress on her phone, and I think I might have actually died a little.

“I don’t care. It’s nice.”

“Nice?” Her voice increases in volume as she sits up on her bed, her eyes full of fire. “Nice? I don’t want to look nice at prom. I want to look hot.”

I groan, rolling to my back and covering my eyes with my hands. “Why the fuck are we even talking about prom right now? It’s October. We just got done with homecoming.”