I launched myself forward and he caught me. The last few weeks had been hard on us. I basically didn’t see him outside of school, and even then, only at lunch with everyone else. And in front of Elise, I was too self-conscious to so much as hold his hand. We still texted all the time but there was this distance, a strain between us since that horrible night three weeks ago. Sometimes I blamed myself, sometimes I blamed him. Sometimes I wondered if maybe Elise was right, if I should’ve broken up with him over what’d happened.

But now we were reunited, alone, and in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, I felt safe and loved.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried.

I just shook my head, rested my chin on his right shoulder, and squeezed him tighter.

“What happened? Where were you last night? You didn’t answer any of my texts or calls and now you just show up here at”—he checked his phone—“six in the morning?”

“Shhh,” I said, glancing in the direction of the house. “I don’t want to wake up your aunt and uncle.” Quietly, we went up to his bedroom, sat on his bed with the door closed. Lola greeted me, then went back into her crate to sleep. Pulling my legs in and tucking my chin between my knees, I balled up, withdrawing into myself.

“Remy, what the hell is going on?” Jack ran a sleepy hand through his hair, expression worried.

“Can you do something for me? Can you check online for any stories about a house fire in Chattanooga?” I asked, too afraid to look it up myself.

“What?” Jack stared at me blankly, then rubbed his eyes. When I didn’t speak, he sighed and pulled his laptop toward him. “Okay.”

While he searched, fear rose up within me like bile and I wanted to throw up.

“I don’t see anything,” he said, catching me staring at him. “Can you tell me what I’m supposed to be looking for? If you gave me a little more info—”

I shook my head and hugged my legs in tighter.

“Nothing on local news sites,” he said. “Okay, tell me what’s going on. I’m starting to freak out. What happened? Why are you asking about house fires?”

“I can’t tell you,” I said.

He sighed in frustration and went back to searching.

“Nothing on Twitter or Facebook. What is it that you’re looking for?” he said, tossing his laptop to the side to comfort me, taking my hands in his.

“What about hospitalizations? Burn victims?” I asked.

“I’m not helping you look until you tell me what’s going on.” It was still dark out but the first whispers of light were filling the sky outside. I’d always liked Jack’s room, the faint scent of peppermint on his pillowcases, the small desk Lola sometimes napped under.

“Remy?”

“Elise wanted to do one last prank,” I said, barely audible. “Just the two of us.”

“What?” he said. “What did you do? Wait, did you drive all the way up to Chattanooga?”