He looks away. “Doesn’t matter. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s different now, I don’t know. Maybe they don’t get cold anymore. But if Cary doesn’t turn in the next forty-eight hours, I don’t think he’s going to.”

“So you knew Baxter wasn’t infected and you let him go out there to die.”

“Are you kidding me? I got him out of this school alive.”

“But you didn’t say about the bites—you knew and you let them—”

“And you held the fucking gun in his face! You were ready to kill him!”

I hate when people yell at me. Hate it. There’s been so much shouting lately, it’s hard to be totally bothered by it now, but this—this is at me. I storm down the hall, but he keeps pace with me and then he cuts me off before I can step inside the auditorium. Harrison’s and Trace’s voices drift into the hall and they sound normal. It makes everything worse.

“You had the gun on him too,” I whisper.

“I know,” he says. “It doesn’t matter if he was infected or not. He lied to us and no one wanted him here. No one would have believed me about the bites if I’d said it and I already put my ass on the line for Cary. Look—hey, look at me.” I look at him. “That whole thing happened way too fast. Okay?”

I swallow. “Okay.”

We step inside the auditorium. When Grace comes back, Trace rounds on her.

“What were you doing in there with him?”

“Don’t start.”

“What the fuck were you doing in there with him alone? Are you out of your mind?”

“I just wanted to talk to him—”

“There’s nothing you need to say to Cary Chen and if there is, it’s not going to matter soon anyway. Stay away from him, Gracie. I’m not kidding.”

“He hasn’t turned,” she says.

“Yeah, well, I’m counting the days till he does. Dibs on braining him—”

“Shut the fuck up, Trace,” Rhys says, “or I’ll shut you up.”

“Try.”

Rhys moves forward and then he stops. They stare at each other and a smile slowly stretches across Trace’s face.

“Where did you put the gun?” Rhys asks.

“Somewhere safe.”

“Tell me where you put it.”

“No.”

Rhys looks a second away from exploding, jumping Trace, something. Trace senses it. His smile vanishes at the same time Rhys recovers. It’s the most incredible show of restraint.

“Why not?” Rhys asks. “I went out there for your dad. I thought we were cool.”

“That was then,” Trace replies. “I don’t like how you put Baxter before us. I don’t like how you or Price there put Chen before us. I don’t think you should have the gun.”

“But—”

“That’s fair,” Harrison says, surprising us.