Deep breath, Vincent. "What if she says no then?"

"She won't be in town. She's leaving on Thursday."

"So it would be a secret." Oh, that rubs me the wrong way. Corey did the same thing, hiding just how much time she spent with me from her parents because they thought I was a bad influence. Casper does that, because her parents would never let her leave the house with a pair of boys they wouldn't trust to take care of her. I've never liked being some dirty little secret, but I've always understood it—until now. Coming from Adam, it hurts more. "We'll just hang out when your mom's out of town and when she's around, we'll be careful not to let her in on it, is that right?"

"It's not that big a deal. It's just...easier this way."

I try to regroup my thoughts. "It is a big deal. It's not like she was asking you to do your homework or take out the trash. She didn't have a legitimate reason for telling you no other than she didn't want you hanging out with me. I mean, if she's never home anyway, what's it to her where you are or who you're with? Whether she's your mom or not—"

"You don't have parents," Adam snaps, "so don't pretend you know what it's like."

It's a big helping of cold water dumped over my head. I stare at the wall and try to figure out if he just said what I think he said.

Adam draws in a breath. His voice hitches.

"Vince. I'm sorr—"

I hang up.

I medicate myself for the next five days to keep from feeling.

October

CHAPTER 17

My turntable is cranked up as loud as I think my neighbors will let me get away with. Lying on the floor with my eyes closed and George Harrison singing in my ear means I don't hear Casper calling repeatedly. It's not until almost two in the morning, when I finally figure I ought to get some sleep, that I notice I have four missed calls and a barrage of texts. She says it's urgent. I'm tired, my mind is foggy from the medication, and I don't care.

I hate this medicine. Or I would, if I had the energy to. No longer am I mad at Adam, or frustrated with myself. I'm...

Just.

Here.

Going to bed. Will text in the AM., I write to Casper

No sooner have I slipped off my shirt and collapsed into bed than she's texted back: No. Talk now.

I don't have a chance to respond before she's calling. Arguing with Casper would probably take more energy than answering the damn phone and hearing whatever she wants to say, so I sigh, roll onto my side, and tuck the phone between my ear and the pillow.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Dude, you have to get on your computer and see the email I just sent you."

"It's two in the morning, Casper. I'm going to sleep."