His laugh was low and husky, but nice, and I suddenly wished I’d spent more time getting to know David instead of always competing with him. Somehow, in these past six weeks, we’d become friends. It might’ve been nice to have him as a friend all along.

I heard the discordant sounds of the band starting up somewhere downstairs, and I glanced at the delicate silver and diamond watch around my wrist. “Damn,” I muttered. “I guess it’s time to get started.”

David started pacing again, hands still in his pockets, practically vibrating with nervous energy. I remembered when that used to annoy me. Now, all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and tell him everything was going to be okay. I wanted to rest my cheek against his collarbone, and have him tell me we were going to get through this. But the music was getting louder now, turning into a recognizable song.

“I’m going to go see where the other girls are and check things out one last time,” I told him. “Escorts need to start lining up on the stairs in”— I checked my watch again—“about ten minutes.”

David stopped pacing, dropping his head into his hands with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “God, what is the point of being able to see the future if you can’t actually see the future? I keep . . . it’s like digging through sand. I can’t see anything,”

“Hey,” I said, pulling one of his arms down. “It’s okay. You know what Saylor said. The closer you get to eighteen, the clearer the visions are going to get.”

He looked at me, eyes wild. “Harper, I saw you die. I saw you in that dress, bleeding to death on those stairs.” He pointed viciously out the door. “So don’t tell me it’s going to be okay.”

I swallowed hard. “Saylor said not every single one of your visions comes true. This one won’t. I won’t let it.”

I must’ve sounded braver than I felt because David gave me a tiny smile. “You would be too stubborn to die.”

“I am, trust me.”

We stood there, staring at each other. I didn’t even realize we were holding hands until I turned to go and had to disentangle myself.

I was already to the door when he called, “Harper.”

“Wha—” was as far as I got, because in a few long strides, David crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. I was so stunned that it hardly even registered that he was kissing me until . . . oh. Oh.

This kiss didn’t make my stomach flutter; it made my skin sing. It made me raise myself up on tiptoes so I could kiss him back harder. It made me want to kiss him anytime, anyplace, even if we were in the middle of Main Street.