“College, trade school…” she suggests. “Your life. You’re graduating in three months, which isn’t long.”

I hadn’t thought of college at all, honestly, until this weekend. My parents were simply happy with me graduating from high school in some capacity. Taking baby steps. But Nina’s acceptances were starting to come in, and she was trying to decide between Moravian and Cedar Crest. And, for the first time, my mind had started to trail to my future. My after.

Because there would be an after. Before, I’d thought that with Declan gone, my life might as well end. But it hasn’t. I’m still here. And I will be here, whether I make sense of his death or not.

Declan’s death had permanently shattered the six, but soon its pieces would be scattered all over the country. I can write my own story from here on out, not as Declan’s girlfriend, but as whomever I wanted to be.

“I am thinking of it,” I announce. “I might enroll in community college.”

Juliet smiles, and I can tell I’ve pleased her. “Good for you, Hailey. Good for you.”

12 Days Before

I had just enough time.

Declan had a crap locker assignment. His was all the way down in no-man’s-land, in the band wing, away from all of his classes. He didn’t even take band, so he’d always make it to class with seconds to spare. Since he had too many books to lug them all around all day, I’d rarely see him between classes unless he was sprinting somewhere.

I asked for a nurse’s pass during the last five minutes of geometry so I could make sure no one would see me. When I got past the nurse’s office, I booked it double time into the music wing just as the bell rang.

I should have had the time.

But I couldn’t find the photograph in my purse. I had one of those purses with fifteen zippers, and couldn’t remember where I’d put it. Once I found it, I slid it into the slats at the top of his locker. Students started streaming down the hall toward me.

I’d taken three steps when I saw Declan rushing, doing his usual four-minute between-class sprint.

He saw me at once, and slowed. My palms slicked. I swallowed.

“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Nurse Fielding,” I said. “Female problem.”

Usually, the female thing got guys to stop asking questions. And it worked with Declan too. But I could tell those big, brilliant cogs in his mind were working, because the nurse’s office was on the other side of the band wing. Meaning, I’d have no reason to come down this far, unless I’d been stopping at his locker. He didn’t ask about that, though. “Are you feeling all right?”