“You sure Shane’s mom is gone?” Chelsea asks as the tires of her Beetle slip on the dirt road. The rain hasn’t quite started, but the air outside has turned into a fine mist.

“Yep. He texted me that she left.”

Mrs. Nelson is nice. The times I’ve been to her house, she’s always been kind to me in a way that my parents would never be kind to Shane. But she’s not nice enough that she would be okay with five random teenagers spending the night in her house. Especially since Brandon surely brought alcohol.

The farmhouse where Shane lives looks like it has seen better days. It might have once been a brilliant red, but now the paint has worn away to practically white in some places and just bare wood in others. The roof is crooked and covered in moss, and it looks like one powerful storm could easily rip it right off. The window frames all look a little crooked as well, like whoever built the farmhouse wasn’t quite sure how to put everything together properly but they were giving it their best college try.

As Chelsea pulls up beside Shane’s Chevy, the door to the farmhouse swings open. Shane appears in the doorway and his eyes light up. He waves vigorously. “Come on! Before the rain starts!”

I grab my backpack and climb out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I look up at the sky, and the clouds look heavy—they’re about to break open at any second. I pick my way through the dirt pathway to the front door, my backpack on my shoulder. Shane grabs it from me when I reach the door.

“Let me take that, Brooke,” he says with a grin.

“What a gentleman!” Chelsea declares. She gives Tim a pointed look, and he dutifully holds out his arm to Kayla, who dumps her gigantic duffel bag in his arms. I swear to God, that girl has packed enough stuff for a month.

After we’re inside the house, I shut the screen door behind us. Even though I’ve watched Shane fix that screen door with my own eyes, it always seems to hang off the hinges. I suspect the entire door needs to be replaced, but he doesn’t have the money for it. Mrs. Nelson already works two minimum wage jobs and they need Shane’s salary at the pizza parlor just to pay for rent and food.

As I turn the lock on the front door, Shane grabs me and pulls me in for a kiss. I melt like I always do. And he smells nice tonight. Not that he doesn’t always smell good, but he smells extra nice tonight. It’s that aftershave he sometimes uses.

“I love your aftershave,” I murmur.

“It’s sandalwood scented.”

I frown. “What’s sandalwood?”

“I don’t know. The wood you make sandals from?”