Her thoughts are a jumble as she crosses the marina parking lot toward the dock. Taylor has never been interested in a girl—aside from Finley—but has had crushes on boys before Brady. She’s suspected she is bisexual, but now it feels confirmed. Am I okay with that? Is it okay that I’m attracted to someone so soon after Finley’s death? Does that make me a jerk? What would Finley think? Would she be happy for me?

Taylor reaches the boat, and Pumpkin is curled up on a cockpit bench. The companionway hatch is open and the twinkle lights are glowing. Taylor steps down into the cabin, where she finds Willa and Campbell tangled around each other on Taylor’s bunk, sound asleep.

“What the hell . . . ?”

Their eyes fly open, and Campbell bolts upright, while Willa scrambles to pull his shirt on over her lacy pink bralette. God, did they have sex in her bed?

“Shit.” Campbell rakes his hand through his hair. “We forgot about you.”

“I waited in the park because that was where we were supposed to meet.” Taylor’s hands clench into fists as she rages at them. “Did you even know the party got busted? Or did you deliberately abandon me at a frat house in a strange town?”

“We didn’t mean—” Campbell begins, but Willa cuts him off.

“I’m sorry, Taylor. There’s no excuse for leaving you behind.”

“If you’re waiting for me to say it’s okay, you’ll be waiting a long fucking time.” Taylor turns and climbs out of the cabin. “You suck. Both of you.”

She stalks to the head of the pier, trying to calm down, but she’s buried beneath an avalanche of anger, unable to dig her way out. She wants to scream. She wants to hit something. Someone. Willa. Her brother. But at the same time she wishes one of them would come check on her. Taylor sinks down onto a park bench and sobs until her nose is congested and her eyelashes hurt. She hates that she doesn’t know what she needs. She hates that life without Finley is so confusing.

When she finally returns to the boat, Campbell is crashed out in the v-berth while Willa is back sleeping in her own bunk. She’s wearing Cam’s shirt and Taylor doesn’t even have the energy to get angry again. She’s just . . . exhausted . . . because she already knows how this ends. Willa and Campbell, as a word problem, would go something like: If a girl sailing from Sandusky to Key West at five knots per hour crashes into a guy who’s redlining all the way to nowhere, into how many pieces will the girl’s heart break?

Except Willa has made her bed—literally and figuratively—so Taylor decides she can find out the answer for herself.

43.4553° N, 76.5105° W

Time travel whenever possible.

Willa