“My cousin didn’t realize until her first gross lab that she couldn’t do corpses.” Gem hugged Lia and pulled away. “She does research now.”

“Yeah, we’ll find out if I vomit, I guess,” he said, and swallowed.

They all knew he wouldn’t. He hadn’t when they had found Ben.

“I didn’t know what to do before all this happened.” Lia reached out and traced the crests and dips of Devon’s face. His breath warmed her skin. “Now what?”

“You don’t have to go to college right out of high school, you know,” Gem said. “You could work for a while or do trade school. They just don’t like telling us those options.”

They weren’t prestigious enough. That was the implication. But Lia was already the less-than-ideal student. To be average was to be invisible.

“I know,” Lia said, “but I still feel like a failure sometimes.”

It was impossible not to. They started studying for the ACT and SAT in middle school, and even before that they had to pass the state tests. Schools took out newspaper ads—as if it were 1970—to advertise their students’ college choices with no options for kids who were taking a break, working, or going to trade school. Most of the counselors at Lincoln were nice and kept community college information on hand, but the principal never even mentioned it when talking about futures during school assemblies. It was as clear as day in the ways Abby’s death was cast against Ben’s. If he weren’t a football star, people might have written his loss off altogether.

It made Lia sick.

Gem yawned and rolled over. “I’m going to put my earbuds in. Don’t be weird and make me regret this.”

Lia glanced at Devon. “Do people think we’re incapable of being alone together?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows and dropped his chin onto his hands. “You’re really good at puzzles.”

“Thank you?” Lia exhaled. “Not like that will get me far in life. The escape room has already been invented.”

“Who would want to leave a room you’re in anyway?” he asked.

Lia leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, and suddenly his hand was tangled in her hair. His gasp died against her lips, and he tilted his head till their noses were pressed together. His thumb stroked her ear. Lia pulled away. He kissed the tip of her nose.

“I would rather not betray the trust of the people who are basically my second set of parents,” Lia said, “but you’re not going back to the other side of the room, right?”

Lia woke slowly, light searing a white line across her eyelids. Gem snored softly to her left, a comforting sound she would know anywhere, and Otter’s collar jingled as she picked her way across Lia’s legs. Lia rolled over and opened her eyes to a sleeping Devon. It was early, maybe five minutes before their alarms would go off, and the only light was a thin strip escaping from underneath the bathroom door. She laid her head against his side, the steady hum of life in his veins overpowering the distant thump of his heart. His fingers brushed her neck.