Will and Tia tromped up the ramp and maneuvered a huge xylophone on rollers onto it. Steadying the lower end, Will walked carefully backward. “Oh, wait,” Tia called, “I don’t have it. Oh, ack!” The xylophone slid down the last foot of the ramp, knocking Will in the gut. “Are you okay?” she called.

“We didn’t really need that lower octave, anyway,” he groaned.

Sawyer put his hands over my ears.

Taking the hint, I inhaled deeply and shut my eyes, letting myself melt into his softness. I could still hear Will and Tia flirting as they coaxed instruments down the ramp and other band members laughing as they passed. But their voices were muffled and smoothed over, just as Sawyer’s downy but firm hug was soothing.

For those few seconds in Sawyer’s arms, I tried to live in the moment and remember what I loved about high school: my friends, our sports events, and our fun gatherings like the homecoming dance, which I was more determined than ever to save. It wasn’t until rare interludes like this, when I felt the weight lifted from my shoulders for a short time, that I realized how much pressure I was under, and how that anxiety turned my whole world dark.

Through my closed eyelids I sensed a flash. Blinking, I pulled away from Sawyer just as Harper snapped a picture of us with her fancy camera.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “You two hugging with Kaye in her cheerleader outfit and Sawyer in his pelican costume struck me as a symbolic photo for our school. It’s also one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.” She turned to me. “I hear Aidan wants a break?” She held her camera out of the way with one hand while she embraced me with the other.

“Tia told you already?” I asked into Harper’s shoulder. Tia wasn’t good at keeping news on the down-low.

“Tia isn’t happy with Aidan,” Harper said as she let me go.

And then—granted, the lights in the parking lot were bright, the shadows strange, and I was feeling out of sorts after my cry—but I could have sworn Harper gave Sawyer a knowing look, like they were hiding something from me.

Which was ridiculous. I spent way more time with Sawyer while he was in costume than Harper did, and I still didn’t know which part of his bird head he saw from.

She stuck out her bottom lip at me in sympathy. “Are you okay to drive?”

“Oh, sure. I’ll see you in a few.” I turned to Sawyer. “Did you put your costume back on just so you could hug me, even though you’re still mad at me? Because that’s kind of sweet, and kind of twisted.”

He shrugged.

“Well, go take it off. I know you’re hot.”

He nodded, nearly poking me in the eye with his foam beak, and curled his arm to show me his bird biceps.

I actually managed a laugh. “Yes, that kind of hot. You are one sexy waterfowl.”

He swaggered toward his truck, lifting his huge feet high and wagging his feathery bottom.

Suddenly the instrument truck, the cheerleader van, and all the buses around me were moving, like curtains rising and sets changing behind an actress onstage. Everyone in the parking lot drove away at one time, making the windblown palm trees seem stark and lonely. Only Sawyer remained, out of his costume again and unable to get over his anger at me, yet waiting for me behind the wheel of his truck.

I got in my car, and he followed me to Harper’s.

* * *

It was impossible to stay depressed in Harper’s tiny house with the five of us pushing past each other and laughing about it: me, sweet Harper, hilarious Tia, Harper’s hippie mom, and of course Sawyer. Just as Harper had said, he didn’t draw a lot of attention to himself or make much noise. It was almost like he was trying to blend in so Harper’s mom wouldn’t kick him out. He kept his clothes in a backpack stuffed under a side table. I knew this because he drew some out right after we arrived, then disappeared to take a shower.

Harper’s mom made us cookies from store-bought frozen dough. They didn’t taste nearly as good as my mother’s homemade, but I appreciated them more because they were made specifically for me. I was stuffing the fourth in my mouth when Sawyer stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wearing his Pelicans T-shirt and threadbare sweatpants that hung low around his waist.

He looked like a different person with his blond hair wet and dark. But the defiant lift of his chin was the same as always when he saw me holding my bundle of pajamas. He motioned with his head toward the bathroom door.

I jumped up, eager to ditch my sweaty cheerleading duds. As I passed him, our bare arms brushed. I asked, “Did you use all the hot water?”

He said quietly, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

I locked myself in the bathroom and set my clothes on the counter. Even though I’d had no idea when I packed my overnight bag that Sawyer would be here, luckily I’d brought a cute tank and pajama pants, sexy without being indecent. I wasn’t worried about how I would look to him. It was the feel of his breath in my ear as he’d passed me that still sent shivers up and down my arms—and now the idea that I was stepping into the shower where he’d just been. (Naked.)

Harper might think this sleepover was innocent. She was wrong.

I hurried through showering and brushing my teeth so I didn’t miss anything. When I exited the bathroom, the living room was empty. Harper’s mom’s door was closed like she’d gone to sleep. Laughter pealed from the opposite direction. I padded down the hall and found Harper in her room, which was wallpapered with photos and art and fashion shoots she’d torn from magazines. She shared her desk chair with Tia as they scrolled through Harper’s yearbook photos on her computer. Sawyer lay on his stomach crossways on Harper’s bed with his chin propped on his hands, looking over their shoulders. I stopped in the doorway. He turned around to glance at me and patted the bed beside him.