31

Bay

I’d stayed up the entire time Dare slept. My voice was rough and scratchy by the time I stopped singing.

He’d left before five, saying Knox’s parents were cooking dinner for them. The way he’d clung to me had felt like someone was trying to rip my heart out.

So many things I’d thought about Dare were wrong, and I didn’t know how to handle this new information. My brain was still on the fritz trying to reconcile what I’d seen when he lifted his shirt with the cocky guy who was a member of the ruling class at school.

Watching him pull away down the driveway, I’d wanted to run out and tell him to come back inside where he’d be safe.

But there were other people who cared about him. Maybe Knox could talk some sense into him.

I’d stood in the door long after his car was gone. Mom kept shooting me worried glances throughout dinner.

Her hand fell over top of mine. “Does he need help? Did he tell you what happened?”

My fork screeched across my plate. “I—I don’t know. He didn’t say.” I wouldn’t put her in a position of needing to do something if Dare didn’t want anything done, so I kept my lips pressed tight. “It just seemed like he needed somewhere quiet to be for a while.”

Her lips pinched and her gaze shot to the wall like she could use laser vision to see straight through to Dare’s house.

We’d spent the rest of the night in silence, and I dragged myself to bed feeling like I’d run an impromptu marathon.

* * *

It had been three days since Dare showed up at my house and I learned the ugly secret he’d felt he had to keep from everyone. He hadn’t been to school, and my texts asking where he was were met with cryptic answers.

I poured my worry into my notebook and kept myself from riding over to his house, only because the lights weren’t on there—ever. They hadn’t been on since the day of the Bedlam Bowl.

When my mom was out, I’d pick up the guitar and quietly go through the lyrics, scribbling down the music to go along with them. Staying away from him hadn’t been easy, but I’d spent at least part of that in a cocoon, binging on cookies and ibuprofen, so it wasn’t the absolute worst not to have to explain to him why I was wearing a hoodie and using a hot water bottle every minute I was home.

With him gone, even at school, I hadn’t had a moment or two with him. No furtive glances and smiles in class or in the hallways to tide me over.

Those talent show flyers flapping in the hallway seemed less like a taunt and more like an arrow pointing to how I could leave a lasting impression on this place. I could wipe TNG off the map.

Maybe sensing I needed to leave the house, my mom let me go over to Piper’s on temporary release to help her get ready for the prom. I stepped out of the pictures with her and Jon until she insisted on one and asked if I wanted to be smuggled in under her dress. Considering it was a mermaid-style gown, that might have been a little tricky.