“It might not be normal for us,” he goes on. “But it’s normal for high school, isn’t it? When I had all that time on Castor Island to think about my life, about all the things I would miss if I never made it back home… This was one of them.”

“The masquerade ball was specifically on your list of things you would miss? Why do I find that hard to believe?”

Ollie rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Not this specific dance, Emma. But dances in general. School events. Doing the regular, mundane stuff that high schoolers do. Don’t say it’s dumb—”

“It’s dumb.”

“Fine.” He throws up his hands. “It’s dumb. I want us to do all the cheesy, dumb stuff. Just in case.”

Just in case. Those words rip through me like a freight truck.

“You’re back,” I say to him fiercely. “And I’m not going anywhere. Ever. And neither are you. But since you insist on tugging at my heartstrings and making me feel like the worst best friend on the planet for not humoring your ridiculous bucket-list item—”

“Sorry.”

“I will go with you to this cheesy, dumb masquerade ball. On one condition.”

“Which is?” Ollie asks, his eyes dancing.

“No costume. I would rather die.”

“I will agree to those terms,” Ollie says, holding out his hand. I shake it firmly.

“Fine, then, Mr. Ward. We have a deal.”

That evening at dinner, I slide into a spot at the table between Ollie and Pru. With everything that’s happened these last few days, I feel like a rubber band that could snap at any moment.

“Look, Jake’s made some new friends,” Jago points out, interrupting my thoughts. We all turn to where he’s looking. Indeed, Jake has found a new clique to sit with since Madison has left campus, and presumably, Archer has too. I’m annoyed, but not surprised, to see that the group includes Harlowe, Ivy, and Graham. They’re talking conspiratorially among themselves.

After scarfing down my burrito, I excuse myself, complaining of a headache. It’s not far from the truth. My head might not be hurting, but it’s definitely spinning.

“Walk you back to Cypress?” Ollie asks, standing up as soon as I start to bolt from the table. “We could skip homework.” He grins wickedly. “Load up on sugar, watch every campy horror flick ever made?”

“I would love to scare myself silly right now,” I answer, bussing my tray. “But I’m in desperate need of a good night’s sleep after my daring escape from Harlowe’s car. Plus, you really can’t skip your homework. You’re still catching up from last year! Rain check?”