I pulled away and scrambled backward, my hand flying to my lips. And suddenly, all I heard were alarm bells. And everything was tumbling, and this wasn’t right, and something was wrong, and I didn’t know what, but it was, it was wrong, and I’d done the wrong thing, and I had to go, go, go. He was staring at me in confusion, and his funny smile was gone, and he was saying my name, but it was distant and distorted. I think I said I’m sorry. I think I said it three or four times, in fact.

And I ran away, back toward the school, and my mom, and the empty halls, my hand still on my mouth. My head shaking. My brain screaming words I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what was wrong, but all of it was. All I needed was space. This was too unexpected. It didn’t make sense. I needed more warning than this. Where was the warning? Where was the buildup? Where had this come from?

How had I missed this?

I didn’t dare look back as I ran. I didn’t know if Brougham was following me, or if he was still standing, stunned, by his car. I didn’t know which thought was worse, so I didn’t, I didn’t think of him, I didn’t.

My eyes burned with tears as I pushed through the double doors into the school hallway. It was deserted. Not a person in sight. I power-walked along the linoleum floor, putting as much distance between Brougham and me as I could.

I didn’t want to see Mom. I didn’t want her to know, to look at Brougham differently, to form an opinion on all of this. Not when she didn’t know the full story.

With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and went straight to Ainsley’s contact name. Somehow managed to press call.

Pick up, pick up, pick up.

Did this mean Brougham liked me? What if he did, and he’d kissed me, and I’d run away from him? Literally run from him, the way he was always terrified everyone would do. Maybe I—

Ainsley answered in a bright voice. “Hello?”

“Hey,” I said. “Are you in class?”

“I’m just walking out now—wait, what’s wrong?”

“Can you please pick me up from school? Now? Now now? As quickly as you can?”

“Yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, no, not really, kind of. I’m safe. Something happened. I need to talk. But I need to get out of here. Now.”

“Meet me in the parking lot. I’ll come right now.”

I got to the front doors and peeked out into the parking lot. It was deserted. Brougham was gone. With an exhale, I texted Mom that I’d gotten a ride home with Brougham. Hopefully Ainsley would arrive before Mom finished up.