She wouldn’t do it, really. It would never work, when Mom insisted on checking in to see if she’d made it to tutoring at the library or when she walked five minutes down to the little beach. But she still felt a quick thrill, just knowing it would technically be possible. Just thinking about doing something that big without Mom or Mia or Jeremy or anyone knowing.

The next morning, when Mitch sent Annabelle outside to pick up the newspaper, she put the letter to Dad in the mailbox, facedown underneath a few bills Mom and Mitch were sending out.

Her phone rang as she walked back to the house, and she cringed when she saw the display. Mia.

They hadn’t talked or texted since the meet on Friday. Mia didn’t know about Annabelle’s wrist or going to the Creamery with Connor. Unless Jeremy had said something to her, even though Annabelle had asked him not to?

Annabelle tried to take three breaths before she answered, but the air wouldn’t come all the way in. “Hey, what’s up?” she said.

“You tell me.” Mia’s voice was X-Acto-knife sharp again. So Jeremy must have told her about Friday night.

Annabelle tried again to steady her breathing and focus on the nearby ocean—always rolling in and out, in and out, whether Mia was furious with her or not. If she really listened, she could hear the soft swishing of the tiny waves that lapped onto the shore at the little beach down the road.

“Well, I sprained my wrist and broke my thumb,” she blurted out. “And my mom and Mitch are really mad. ’Cause I went out with . . .” She paused, then decided not to mention Connor. “Jeremy and Kayla and some girls from the swim team on Friday.”

Mia didn’t say anything.

“I really screwed up,” she added.

Mia let out a short, harsh laugh. “Yeah. I heard.”

Annabelle stiffened. “What did you hear?”

“Jeremy told me about your little adventures. How you were out gallivating with Connor and Jordan and them, even though you told me you didn’t know about any plans.”

Annabelle was pretty sure the word wasn’t gallivating, and for a second she wished Jeremy were around to correct Mia. Or that she were sure enough to correct Mia herself.

“I . . . I didn’t know they were going out when you asked me,” she said. “It was a last-minute thing.”

“And I heard you got Connor to try to lift you over the fence at Dennis Martin’s house, but then he left when you got hurt,” Mia went on.

Got Connor to lift her? It had been his idea! And he hadn’t wanted to leave her!

Mia feels left out, Annabelle told herself. She’s upset that I didn’t invite her. I can probably fix this if I figure out the right thing to say.

Except then Mia added, “It sounds like you really treated Jeremy like crap.”

“I have to go,” Annabelle croaked. Because she couldn’t stand the idea of Mia and Jeremy united without her. Bonding with each other by saying all sorts of awful things behind her back.