“She doesn't care,” Rina said easily, as Jeff rubbed her leg, taking a sip of her beer. “She won't even notice if you're late. Have some dinner and then we'll go.”

I lowered my voice. “Rina. I have to go right now. Okay?”

“Caitlin, relax,” she said. “God, have a beer or something.” To Jeff she added, “She's been like this, like, all afternoon.” Jeff looked at me, flipped his hair again, and I wanted to kill both of them. “You promised you'd drive me home,” I said to Rina, and I could feel my throat getting tight. “You promised.”

“Look, give me the phone,” she said, grabbing it sloppily from where it was lying on the deck between us. “I'll call Rogerson and explain everything. What's his number? Oh wait, I think I know”

“No,” I said, yanking the phone out of her slippery hand. I could only imagine how Rogerson would react to hearing where I was from her. “Please, just take me home. It'll only take a second. Okay?”

“What is the matter with you?” she said angrily. “God, you'd think it was killing you to be here with me or something.” And then she looked at Jeff, raising her eyebrows in a can-​you-​believe- this kind of way. For two hours I'd felt myself stretching tighter and tighter, like a rubber band pulled to the point of snapping. And now, I could feel the smaller, weaker parts of myself beginning to fray, tiny bits giving way before the big break. Out on the lake the sun was hitting right by the dock, glittering across the water like diamonds. “Fine,” I said, standing up. “I'll get there myself.” I walked off the porch, across the scrubby pine yard and out onto the road, which snaked ahead of me over a long bridge, around a bend and miles and miles into town. But I didn't care. Just walking would get me that much closer, give me the forward motion to feel that I could somehow fix this. “Caitlin,” I heard Rina calling out behind me, her voice sun-​baked and drunk. “Don't be ridiculous. Come back here!” I But I was already hitting my stride, sandal straps rubbing my feet and Corinna's bracelets clinking, playing her theme music, with every step I took.

I must have walked about a mile when a car pulled up behind me and beeped, quickly, three times. I walked closer to the edge of the road, eyes straight ahead, willing them to pass, but they didn't. Instead, the car rolled closer, slowing down to stop right beside me. It was Jeff. “Would have been here sooner,” he explained, flipping his hair as I fastened my seat belt. “But Miss Rina threw a little fit about me leaving her. You understand.”

“Yeah,” I said, as he hit the gas and we sped toward town, his big convertible sucking up the road beneath us. “I do.” We might have talked on the way home: I don't really remember. My mind was already working my defense, figuring the play, setting the pick and the run and shoot. As we got closer to town, the pine trees and flat fields giving way to asphalt and strip malls, I could feel the dread that had been building in me all afternoon finally fill me up. And by the time we got to my house, every muscle in my body was tight and I could hear my heart beating. I had a crazy thought to tell Jeff to just keep going, gunning past what was waiting for me, driving on and on to someplace safe. But I knew Rogerson would find me. He always did. There were cars parked all up and down the street for the party, but I could see Rogerson right in front of the walk. The BMW was right by the mailbox, windows up, engine off. “You know, ”Jeff said in his slow drawl as he pulled into Boo and Stewart's driveway to turn around, “Rina was just a little tipsy is all. You shouldn't hold it against her.”

“I don't,” I said, opening my door before he'd even come to a full stop. The sight of Rogerson waiting for me, just like all those times at the turnaround, filled me with a fear that clenched hard in my chest, like a fist closing over something tightly. “Thanks for the ride, Jeff.”

“Looks like quite a party,” he said, nodding at my parents' backyard, where I could see the tentstill standingall lit up, with peopie milling around beneath it. Someone was playing the piano, tinkling and sweet, and it was slowly getting dark. The perfect Fool's night. “Yeah,” I said, already backing away from the car. “It always is.” The grass was wet on my feet as I ran across it, with Jeff yelling good-​bye behind me. My house was all lit up to my right, and I knew that inside it smelled like potpourri, all those dolls arranged in their intimate groups. Rogerson's car was dark as I came up on it, with that eerie green glow from the dash lights coming from inside. I opened the passenger door and got in, shutting it quietly behind me. He didn't say anything. I turned to face him, ready with my explanation, the defense I'd drawn out in the long walk and ride home: I tried to call you, I couldn't get here, I'm sorry. But I didn't even get a word out before he turned, with the face I'd never captured on filmwrenched and angryand slapped me across the face. It was hard enough to push me back against my door, which hadn't shut completely and so fell open just a bit. I reached out behind me to try and grab the handle, but he was already coming at me again. “Where the hell have you been?” he said, moving so close that his breath was in my face, hot and smoky-​smelling. He grabbed me by the front of my dress, yanking me even closer to him, the fabric bunching in his fist, bulging through his fingers. “I have been waiting for you for an hour.”

“Rina,” I said quickly, gasping, “Rina invited me to the lake, I tried to call you”