That left her quiet, the silence heavy between us.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did.” She turned away from me, looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden.” Her voice was flat, her spark gone.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“I just—” She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I just don’t want to be alone right now. And I know I won’t be alone, but the others there, they don’t know me, not like you do.” Our eyes met in the mirror. “No one does. The things I told you last night—I’ve never told anyone. Ever.” She seemed to shrink into herself, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. “I need you, Remy,” she said. “Please.”

“Of course,” I said, hugging her tight.

“I’m sorry.”

It scared me, seeing someone so strong on the edge of tears, on the verge of breaking down.

“I need you, I need you,” she said, but the words that had once made me feel loved now filled me with apprehension.

34.

“I’m sorry I have to go,” I told Jack. “And I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend any time alone together.” We were out in the parking lot, standing by his motorcycle, his fingers gently trailing along my arms, Elise a few spots away, already starting the Pink Caddy. I turned my back to her to steal a moment for myself.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later, and I think your friend just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. Even that sounded like he was making an excuse for her, and I liked him even more—he was so generous and understanding.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “And I forgot your shirt.” After washing it, I’d left it in the dryer.

“Oh, the Superman one?” he said. “Keep it. I like the way you look in it.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, but I was secretly pleased.

He leaned in and left the lightest kiss on my lips, sending me soaring. I pulled him in tighter, arms wrapped around him, hands slipping into his hair.

“Okay.” I lingered, not wanting to leave.

The ride to the football field was mostly quiet. The sky had darkened while we ate, leaving only faint brushes of pink and purple. We were the first ones there, sitting together on the bleachers, smoking while we waited.

“Are we going to do anything tonight?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, a prank,” I said.

“Oh, like if we already have a target or something? No,” she said. “We’re just here to figure it out.”

“Why do you want to do this again?” I asked, turning to lie down on the bench.

“Because.” She dropped her cigarette, stamped it out. “I know what it’s like to feel helpless. You do too. It’s awful. No one should ever, ever feel like that. And we can’t do anything about our parents, but—”

“Okay, okay,” I cut her off. I knew her entire speech already.