“Well,” Kane said to me one day, coming up behind me and resting an arm against the locker besides mine. “I feel like shit. How about you?”

“Same,” I muttered, following his line of vision to where Luisa and Declan were walking down the hall, holding hands. I slammed my locker without thinking and almost snagged my finger. “You spoke to him?”

He shrugged. “I told you. He said we’re not brothers anymore. And I said that was fine with me.”

“How can you live under the same roof like that?”

“Because I know something he doesn’t know.”

“Which is?”

“That she may look like she’s with him, but I was the one she was drunk-texting last night.” He held out his phone triumphantly.

“What?” I grabbed his phone and scanned the messages. It was all a lot of bullshit, like “What are you up to/Nothing, what are you up to?” at first, but then it got more personal. The time stamp on it was after one in the morning, and she admitted she’d been taking sips of the wine her mother had left in the fridge. Kane was his usual distant self, and it was clear she’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, because at the end, she’d typed, “I miss you,” and he hadn’t responded.

God, he was a champion.

I wished Declan had drunk-texted me. Not like that would ever happen, since he didn’t drink. But I wanted some signal, any signal, that he still thought about me. As it was, he hadn’t even looked at me. No, I’d looked at him enough for the both of us, and not only that, but I felt bad for him. That’s how much I loved him. I felt bad that Luisa was playing him, and he didn’t know. I wanted to warn him. “Maybe I should tell him.”

Sensing my desperation, Kane wrapped a hand around my upper arm. “Hailey. Don’t. Stand strong. Don’t get pulled back in.”

That’s easy to say when you’re standing at the edge. I’d already slipped and was falling, headfirst, no idea if there was even a bottom to land on.

I felt the tears welling in my eyes for the thousandth time that week. I watched Declan as he tucked a strand of blond hair behind Luisa’s ear and stroked her cheek. I could almost feel his callused, gentle Californian finger stroking my cheek. “But…does he even think about me, you think?”

“I’m sure he does,” Kane said, which was too vague for me.

I wanted to know. I didn’t want to feel like Declan had left me in the dust to rot. I wanted to know he cared. Even a little bit. “You think so?”