Zach glances at his watch. “Whoa. It’s ten o’clock.” He jumps to his feet and holds a hand out. I reluctantly take it, and he pulls me up. “I think the show might be over.” He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and checks it. “Fuuuuck. He left me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m stuck.”

A part of me wants to ditch him in this bookstore. He’s getting to me; I can feel it. That evil little part of me wants to run down the stairs away from him, find Lucy, and pretend that none of this ever happened. He’s digging his way into my heart, and I hate him for it.

Apparently there’s a tiny bit of decency left in me, because instead I say that I’ll call Lucy and see if he can catch a ride with us. But after I rummage deep into my bag and finally locate my phone, I see that she’s already gone too.

I tell him Lucy left. “Nice friends we have.” I roll my eyes. “Whatever. We can use my Lyft account. I don’t care if my parents pay for us to get home. It’s the least they can do.”

He’s nervous. “Are you sure? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Please. Like they give a shit.” I’m sure they don’t even know I’m out of the house for the first time in months. I’m sure they aren’t even home to notice that I’m not there. I smirk at the thought and start down the stairs. As I walk away from Zach, the protective skin that I developed over the past year begins to regrow over me like a comfortable coat of armor. Any stupid feelings that started to creep in this evening fade with every step I take.

When we get downstairs, the store is empty, and out the front windows I see that it’s pouring rain.

Chapter Twenty-four

When I reach the exit, May’s waiting. She nods to the window. “Look.”

It’s pouring. In Los Angeles we so rarely see rain that it’s always a surprise. When Gwen was little and it rained, she’d go outside buck naked, wearing her rain boots and nothing else, and jump in as many puddles as possible. After, she’d track muddy footprints all over the house. My mom used to have a conniption fit, but as soon as she was done cleaning up after Gwen, they’d cuddle on the couch and drink hot chocolate together.

These days, she’d be at work still. When my dad lost his job, my mom’s work hours ramped up and up and up until they were all-consuming, until they took away her weekends. Until they took her away from us.

“I called a Lyft,” May says.