“Never.”

“That’s why.”

“I’d do it for you,” he’d deadpanned.

I’d called him on his bullshit then. Now I understood his sudden charitable offer.

“Yes,” Vaughn answered for me. “He’ll take her on a date. Now, can you remove yourself from our vicinity? I’m trying to eat here.”

He produced a seven-year-old granola bar from his pocket, which I knew he had absolutely no intention of eating. Vaughn didn’t eat. Publicly, I mean.

“Gladly,” Lenora said.

“Do you do anything gladly? You look like the miserable spawn of Marilyn Manson and a blowup doll.”

“Do you think blowup dolls can be impregnated, Vaughn? Shall I give you the talk about the birds and the bees?” Lenny squinted, before her phone chimed. She laughed. She actually laughed, as she shook her head. “Au revoir. And before you wonder, Vaughn—it doesn’t mean a fancy pastry.”

“My mom is French!” he yelled, finally snapping out of his usual ice-cold manner.

And just like that, Lenora and Vaughn disappeared in opposite directions, leaving me alone with Poppy.

“I do.” I smiled.

Her eyelashes fluttered. “A bit early for that, but what the hell, if the ring is nice, I’m game.”

I let out a laugh.

I’d cut off my balls and feed them to Luna’s seahorses before I marry into your sister’s family, dude.

“I do have a game on Friday,” I clarified. “The championship game, actually. But we can hang out after. Just the two of us.” I gave her a slow onceover, going for the kill with an I’ll-chew-your-panties-off smirk. “Especially if heavy petting is involved.”

“No promises.”

“Well, prepare to watch a shitty cop movie, then.”

She giggled. Her throat bobbed, and all I could think was, it’s just a throat. I didn’t want to kiss it. I didn’t want to trace it with my fingers. To strangle it. To cover every inch of it with my tongue and lips and teeth, like I’d imagined whenever I’d looked at Luna.

I reopened my locker and stared at the letter again, this time stuffing it into the back of my jeans. I needed something to hold onto.

A fresh hell to raise.

You want to be humored, Dixie? Joke’s on fucking you.

 

 

Winter break came blazing through my life, tearing hopes and plans in its wake.

Going back home felt like facing death row, with Knight representing a class of skilled snipers, all of them aiming their rifles at me.

I wanted to stay at Boon. I even went as far as considering going home with April to Montana. Her offer seemed genuine, and she was trying to work out a scenario where Ryan, Josh, she, and I were going to hang out there before flying back to Boon. Alas, I didn’t want to cower, and I didn’t want to prevent myself from hanging out with Edie, Dad, Racer, and Theo just because of Knight.

Besides, home was so much more than just Knight. Edie had said Rosie wasn’t doing well, and I wanted to check on her.

Racer had a toothless smile now. I needed to take pictures.

Daria was getting married. I wanted to be there for her.

I even missed Vaughn and his dark, angsty moods.

So I went.

Dad picked me up from the airport and carried my suitcase to Edie’s Porsche. He asked about Josh, and even though I wanted to die from the prospect of telling him the truth, I couldn’t lie, either.

“We’re just friends, Dad.” I buckled my seatbelt.

“Whatever you are, I support you, kiddo.” There was a beat of silence after that. “I kicked Cole’s ass.”

My eyebrows shot to my forehead.

He shrugged. “More or less. He feels awful about it, if it makes any difference at all.”

I looked out the window, watching San Diego zipping by on our way to Todos Santos. I hadn’t spoken to Knight in weeks, but I knew our paths were bound to cross now that I was next door again.

Dad shifted in his seat, scratching at his stubble. “There’s a pre-Christmas party at the Coles’ tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.” I schooled my features, staring straight ahead. Every fiber in my body didn’t want to go, but I’d be damned if I would disrupt everyone’s lives just because of a heartbreak I’d seen coming years ago. If I didn’t go, Edie and Theo wouldn’t go, either. Dad would have to keep face and show up. He’d take Racer, who’d ask about Edie and me the entire evening.

“You don’t have to.” Dad frowned. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. I knew he was uncomfortable.

“I’m more than happy to.”

“Does that mean you and Knight talked it out?”

I’d done quite a bit of talking with Knight, actually. I felt guilty even thinking that. I’d given Knight something my father had begged me for, for years. My words. Not that selective muteness was a choice. I’d tried speaking to Dad plenty. It sucked that I couldn’t give him the thing he wanted most.

“We’re fine.”

At least I hoped we were. I was counting on having no more embarrassing secrets Knight could reveal at the party, so really, how disastrous could it be?

I was a ball of nerves that whole first day back home, a knot of puke making it hard for me to breathe, smile, or shove food down my throat. I tried to write, but nothing came out. Tossing the MacBook to the wall in a fit, I grabbed my bike and decided to ride in the woods, where I knew I’d never bump into Knight. But I was too distracted and ended up falling flat on my butt twice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d fallen off my bike.

Actually, I could.

The day Knight had saved me.

The world kept on moving, and I wasn’t even trying to play catch-up with it. Edie and Racer made cookies and put on Christmas movies while I secretly Googled Val’s name. One time, Dad caught me and asked what was going on.

“You look upset,” he said.

I shook my head at that.

“What are you doing?” he persisted.

I shook my head harder, thinking, Ruining my life. That seems to be the theme lately.

Then the next day rolled around, and I realized I had to face Knight. I didn’t want to go to the party. The only thing that made me drag myself out the door—every step feeling like I had a three-ton sandbag on my back—was that I knew he’d expect me to bail. He wanted confirmation of the fact that I was sad and lonely and in need of him.

Surprise, jerk.

Whether it was true or not, he was about to be served a big piece of humble pie. Hopefully he was hungry.

I showed up at the Coles’ in my usual attire of boyfriend jeans, Vans, and a cropped yellow sleeveless shirt, ignoring the herd of women in gowns and men in double-breasted suits sipping expensive champagne. The party was in the backyard, which was as big as a wedding venue. Everything was red, green, or white, including the waiters’ uniforms. They moved around, offering silver trays full of delicious finger foods and sparkling, golden liquid. I consciously worked on not scanning the place for Knight, and when Edie, Theo, and Racer disappeared into the kitchen to help Rosie and her staff, I found myself leaning against a round table next to Daria and Penn, just like Thanksgiving.

Daria took a sip of her champagne and glanced around the crowd, looking stunning in a red velvet dress.