Sure enough, we get to my house, and as soon as Gwen hops out, Conor turns to me with an expression that I’ve never seen on his face.

“Dude. Get your head out of your ass. You almost killed us back there.” He sounds so serious it pisses me off.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Um, yes. Yes, you did. Didn’t you see that truck? It would have slammed into us—”

“But it fucking didn’t, did it?” I’m gripping the steering wheel so hard it hurts. “We’re fine.”

He shakes his head. “Not sure you’re fine.”

“I am fine.” I spit the word out.

He heaves a heavy sigh and then shrugs. “Fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Whatever, man. Moving on.” He pauses. “Will you do me a favor, though, and please come to this show tonight?”

He’s relentless with this fucking show. “Fine. I’ll go if it’ll stop you from harassing me any more. Jesus Christ.”

He smirks like he always does when he gets his way.

“Good. It’ll do you some good to get out of the house.”

I’m opening my car door when a thought occurs. I turn back to him with narrowed eyes. “May’s not going to be there, right? This isn’t some ridiculous scheme to try to get me to talk to her?”

Conor makes a face. “Seriously? First of all, I’m not one of those freshman girls who think you guys are star-crossed lovers. Second, do you think she wants to go out in public so soon, after everything? Pretty sure not.”

I almost ask him all the questions that have been running through my head—what’s happening with her status at school, how has she been doing—but I stop myself.

It’s not my business anymore.

“I’ll pick you up in a couple hours.” Conor smirks. I roll my eyes and hop out of the car. He slides into the driver’s seat and takes off, backing out of the driveway at top speed. His driving always gives me a mild heart attack. The fucking nerve of him, giving me that lecture. Dick.

The downstairs of my house is empty, so I head up to my room, intent on throwing myself on my bed and drowning my sorrows in shitty emo music while I wait for Conor’s return. But I’m barely settled on my bed when there’s a knock on the door. I throw my head back against my headboard and groan, but it’s not like I have any place to hide.

“Yeah?”

I expect it to be my dad. Instead, my mom’s salt-and-pepper hair pokes through the doorway, and all of a sudden I wish I’d stayed in my car and driven away with Conor.

“Hi.” She looks nervous. I’ve never seen my mother look nervous.