Gabriel glanced across at Layne, who was still waiting, still listening. “Nick wasn’t into sports or anything. He needed to be doing something, to be helping. To have a purpose. I didn’t want to take it away from him.” He snorted. “Christ, that sounds lame.”

“No,” she said. “No, I think I get it.”

“At first I would do the work and throw it away. But I hated lying to him, so I stopped. Then I hit high school and made varsity freshman year, and it was just one less class to worry about. Now I’m so far behind that I don’t think I’ll ever make up the difference.”

“I’ll help you,” she said.

“You can try.” He almost reached out to push the hair back from her face. “Your turn.”

She held his eyes. “Truth.”

“How did Taylor get you to that party, really?” He gave her a quick once-over. “Especially looking like that.”

She shifted to look out at the darkness. “I changed my mind. Dare.”

Gabriel slid his cell phone out of his pocket and held it out. “Okay. Here. I dare you to call your father and tell him you’re sitting in a dark parking lot with me.”

“Ooooh.” She glared up at him without any real malice. “I don’t think I like this game.”

He smiled. “Come on, pony up.”

She folded her arms across her stomach and sighed. Her voice came out very small, warring with the crickets and water. “Taylor told me that she’d talked to you and that you hoped to see me there. My friend Kara picked my clothes.”

Oh.

Suddenly he felt like he’d had a hand in this, though he hadn’t known anything about it. “Layne,” he said. “Taylor never talked to me. I swear—”

“I know! I figured it out, okay? That’s why I feel like such an idiot.”

Navigating this conversation made controlling fire seem easy. “But I would have—”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

“Layne, let me—”

“Your turn!”

He drew back and sighed. “Truth.”

“How did your parents die?”

The words felt like a weapon, as if she were trying to hurt him for asking her something that obviously left her off balance. But his parents’ deaths were just another bolt of guilt that struck him on a daily basis.

“In a fire,” he said flatly. “They were arguing with the parents of some kids who used to hassle us. The house burned down. Not everyone got out.”

She stared at him for the longest moment. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Why would I make that up?”

Her mouth worked like she wanted to say something, but the words couldn’t quite make it out. He knew that expression, and he couldn’t take one more ounce of pity. So he made his voice hard. “Your turn.”

She licked her lips. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Truth.”