Christ, like he would have remembered a math test with everything going on. This lady couldn’t cut him some slack? He glanced at the doorway, but Layne was long gone. He wouldn’t even have a way to get a message to her. “I . . . look, I need to—”

“I want to give you more time,” she said gently. “I know you’re not focused today.”

He breathed out a sigh. “Yes. More time would be great.”

“I can’t. I’m already giving you a free pass by letting you make up the test.”

His hands balled into fists at his sides. “I don’t give a crap about the team anymore.”

“Do you care about graduating? Because right now you have a zero in the system. And with Friday’s events, the principal asked me about it. I said you were scheduled to take a makeup exam today.”

Gabriel wanted to hit something.

“Look,” she said. “Just take the test. I’ve seen your work over the last few days. You’ll do fine. And I can help you recover from a low score. I can’t help you recover from no score.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I need to be somewhere.”

“Where?”

Somehow he didn’t think I need to meet a girl would suffice here.

Her expression hardened. “I’m telling you that you will fail this class. You will not graduate. I know this might not matter to you right this instant, but I assure you, it will matter in the long run.”

He snorted. The long run. Considering Bill Chandler’s comments Saturday morning, he didn’t even know if he had any chance of being around for the long run.

But then he realized he did have one last option.

Layne’s voice was echoing in his head, the way she’d chastised him for cheating.

He shook it off. “Fifth period,” he said. “Fine. I’ll be here.”

Now he just needed to find Nick.

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 39

Layne sat in the back corner of the library, blocked by the stacks, yet with a crooked view of the entrance. The same table where she always sat. The same table where she’d stood up to Gabriel, two weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime ago.

The library wasn’t crowded, but no one ever sat back here because the books were old and smelled musty. They must have cleaned the carpets over the weekend, because today it also smelled sweet yet acrid, a chemical scent that was giving her a headache.

Her palms were sweating, and she swiped them on her jeans, again reveling in the realization that there were no scars under the denim along her left thigh.

That was the only thing she’d left out of her confession to her father.