“Tomorrow.” He motions me toward his room. It’s hot and stuffy in there, as if he’s been marinating in his bed for the past five days. He shows me a letter with a red and gold logo on it. It takes me a minute to recognize it as FSU—Florida State University. Kane never talked about college much, but when he did, it was Florida, Florida, Florida. I scan the letter and see the word “Congratulations.” I raise my eyebrow.

He grins. “I may be an asshole, but I’m also going to be a Seminole.”

No wonder he’s happy. “No way!”

“I know. I can’t believe they want me, either.” He scans the letter again. “And Luisa will be in Miami, so…” He stops and bows his head sheepishly, as if he just realized who he’s talking to and wishes he could take it back. “It’s good.”

“Oh, about that. Listen. I get your thing with Luisa. I get that you’re trying to start fresh, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.” I suck in a breath. “So you don’t have to keep coming to my rescue anymore, okay?”

He sets the letter down. “I don’t—”

“I need to start doing that for myself. Everyone else is moving forward, and I’m stuck in the past. I need to grow up and take responsibility for my future.”

He nods. “Yeah. All right.”

I start to jog down the stairs, feeling for the first time as if I’m finally growing up and stepping off that hamster wheel. Like maybe I’ll be okay.

“Wait,” he says when I’m nearly at the bottom. I turn back. “Still friends, right?”

I smile at him. “Always.”

9 Days Before

I tried to see him over the weekend. I texted, asking if he wanted to do something. I went to his house, but he wasn’t home. I’d spent most of that weekend thinking of plans to get closer to him. Then I took one of my stuffed animals, christened it Luisa, and did some voodoo on it with a very sharp sewing needle.

In the morning, a plan had solidified in my head. I never drove Declan to school anymore, since he usually took the bus to get there early for Science Club. But I had the idea that I would make an excuse to take the early bus too.

When I saw him leave the house—so ridiculously early that it was still black as night outside—I rushed out, screen door banging behind me, chasing after him. I nearly slipped on the ice, trying to catch up to him. “Hey,” I said, out of breath when I fell in stride on the sidewalk next to him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he said, digging his hands deep into the pockets of the inadequately light corduroy jacket he was wearing. He didn’t look at me. “Your Jeep okay?”