John just gave me a questioning look. Not a happy one.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“Later.”

Shit. Usually, my emotions were the mess. It had never occurred to me that John might have his own insecurities—at least, not about me. I truly was an idiot, one who needed to pay more attention.

We shuffled into class along with everyone else, taking our usual seats. Mrs. Ryder immediately started giving back the essays on Edgar Allan Poe.

“Much improved,” she said, handing mine over.

“Thank you.” A-minus. Awesome. A flicker of pride pulled me up straighter in my chair. I’d forgotten what this could feel like. I turned in my seat to show John, the person responsible for getting me to study and actually give a damn again. This was on him.

“. . . we’ll discuss this after class,” Mrs. Ryder was saying, shaking the paper in front of his face. “Understood?”

“You think I didn’t write this?” asked John, the momentary surprise on his face quickly tightening into anger. “You think I got someone else to do it or something. Because the work’s good for a change.”

Her mouth skewed.

“I read the book and then I wrote the paper.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, mystified.

Mrs. Ryder’s gaze cut to me, her eyes hard and probing.

“What? You seriously think he didn’t do it?” I asked. “That’s crazy. We study together, but he does his own work.”

“You study together,” she repeated, as if that answered everything.

I’d never wanted to kick a teacher so badly in my life. “People aren’t allowed to decide to try and do better at school?”

“Edie . . .” muttered John. “It’s all right.”

“Do not take that tone with me, young lady.” Mrs. Ryder towered over me.

Having to look up at her only pissed me off more. “You’re supposed to encourage people to learn.”

“We’ll discuss this after class, Mr. Cole.” She dropped the paper onto his desk, condemning him with barely a glance.

“You’re denying him the opportunity of an education,” I said, jaw rigid.

Her hand cut through the air. “That’s enough. Get out your books.”

I went nuclear, heat rushing to my face. “Oh, you can go fu—”

“Test me on it,” said John, shooting me a warning look. “If I didn’t write the paper then I’m not going to know shit . . . stuff, about the book. Test me.”

My mouth shut tight. He could do it; I knew he could. If she’d just give him the chance.

“Please.” John shuffled forward in his seat. “You’re right, I’ve been sleeping through classes for years. But that’s not what’s going on now, not anymore. Not since . . .”

Not since the Drop Stop—those were the words unspoken. She must have known it, though.

He blinked, staring down at his desk. “I’m not asking for special treatment. Just a chance.”

Mrs. Ryder’s eyes narrowed further. I’d be amazed if the woman could see anything, peering out from behind her metal-rimmed glasses. “Meet me here after school. You get one shot with me, Mr. Cole. One. Don’t mess it up.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

 

 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Yeah?” John sat on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette, the lake’s dark waters spread out before him. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer your phone.” I crossed my arms. Not daring to climb up beside him, unsure of my welcome. With good cause. “Anders didn’t have a clue where you were, and your uncle—”

“You went to my place?”

“Yes.”

His brows descended. “Thought you weren’t allowed out on school nights.”

“We renegotiated; I have to clean both bathrooms for a month. It was an emergency—I was worried about you.”

Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he breathed deep.

“How did it go with Mrs. Ryder?”

“Fine.” He tapped the ash off the side of the car at my feet. “I got my B for the paper.”

“That’s great.” I smiled. “Congratulations.”

A chin tip.

“I’m sorry I almost told her to go fuck herself,” I said, sneaking a little closer. “That was probably unconstructive.”

“Not the word that I had in mind. But, yeah, it was.”

“Though you shouldn’t have to beg to get an education. That’s bullshit.”

A cool wind blew off the water and I wrapped my arms around myself a little tighter. So racing out of the house in only black flip-flops, ripped jeans, and a tank hadn’t been the brightest. Autumn was making its presence known. Still, with the chilly evening, the lakeside was deserted. We were the only two people in sight. Cold weather had some perks.

“But you were wrong about me being ashamed of you,” I said, leaning against the side of the car. Always trying to get closer.

With an irritated huff of breath, he climbed off the other side of the hood, stopping to stub out his cigarette on the ground. “You could have seriously screwed me in class today, Edie.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Insulting her was never going to fix anything.” He walked around the car, brow furrowed and mouth a flat line. “You want to go nuts after what happened, I don’t blame you. I’m still messed up from it too. But there are consequences to the shit you do; you know this.”

I nodded. Even if I could never seem to care about the consequences for myself, at least I could for him.

“Tell me you’re going to think first. ’Cause I need that from you.”

“I’ll think first. I promise.”

“And not just about stuff with me, with everything. Because if you get hurt somehow, that fucks me up too.”

Damn. My eyes itched. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t cry.” He moved closer, wrapping me up in his arms. “We’ll figure it out.”

Breathing his scent in, having him close, it helped. I fisted my hands in his shirt, making sure he couldn’t escape. Christ, I was such a train wreck.

“I won’t be crazy anymore,” I promised.