I simmer in my own anger, my eyes scanning the crowd for an excuse, for a reason to leave this space. I need my friends, but they don’t seem to be anywhere.

  Then I spot my savior, and I feed her to the wolf. I can’t stop myself. Desperation pushes me, but it’s the desire to make Elena hurt that makes me act.

  “Elena…have you heard the news?”

  Her chin dips and her jaw hardens. I step in close enough to make sure I can meet her stare, and I think of every shitty thing that’s happened in my life and convince myself that I deserve this one sweet victory.

  “Ms. Manning is expecting another child. It was a surprise, of course. She’s far enough along now though, and they’re so excited.”

  I see the pain flash over her eyes, but the demon that lives in her soul takes over quickly, the black centers of her eyes spreading until she’s practically consuming me with her stare. It takes her a full breath to work her mouth into its well-practiced shape, the harsh line of deep red a sharp warning that I will suffer.

  “Seems like a terrible risk.” I swear her tongue slithers around that last word.

  “Hmmm. Worth the risk for her, I guess.”

  She closes the distance between us, ensuring privacy, and Stella and her parents have given us space. I wonder if these types of conversations are common in their circle, or specific just to Elena Alderman.

  “Are you really that taken with him?” Her eyes shift from my right to my left, and then fall into pity. “Aw, you are. You weren’t careful with your heart, were you, Lily? Poor girl. You’re playing a game you aren’t bred to win.”

  “Pity.” She tacks on that last part just to be cruel. I sold out Ms. Manning’s trust and barely grazed her ego.

  I’m dizzy from falling so low, dizzy from guilt and shame. I let her make me just as rotten as she is. Here I thought Alice was the minion and I was just learning to play the piano.

  When I couldn’t find Ava or Anya, I left to walk along the shore behind the chairs of nearby residents who just like to come out to watch. I didn’t want to be near anyone who had anything to do with Satis House or Elena’s circle, so I went to the starting line. I got there just in time to watch Henry’s first push, to watch the way his body switches between man and machine.

  I waited here, hundreds of yards away from everyone, until Henry grew frustrated that he couldn’t find me. I answered his first text and told him I’d messed up. Then he called and asked where I was. I didn’t expect him to get here so fast, and I’m equal parts devastated and relieved to see his form getting closer and closer along the shore. He’s pulled on his sweatpants, and his Satis House hoodie looks perfectly huggable with him inside. When he finally reaches the park bench I’ve glued myself to—figuratively—I decide to indulge in his warmth before I confess my sins then grill him on his own.

  “I didn’t peg you for one of those drama girls who got into fights with her friends. What’s going on?” He knows it isn’t something trite like that, and when I meet his gaze, I’m unable to hide just how messed up Elena left me. I try to bury my face in his chest, but he holds me away and forces me to look him in the eyes.

  “I told Elena about the baby. I betrayed Ms. Manning.” I tear up, mostly from a release of stress.

  Henry chuckles and brings my body into his, finally, wrapping his arms around me and rocking me like an infant.

  “She won’t be mad, and if it comes up, I’ll say I was the one who slipped up. She’ll understand. It happens; you get talking and things just come out.”

  He’s being so comforting, but I shake with a mixture of laughter and whimper because he’s giving me way too much credit.

  “I told her because I knew it would make her feel bad. I did it to be mean, Henry,” I peel back from his chest, running the butt of my palm under my eyes.

  His brow pulls in.

  “Yeah, see? I was mean. I did something to be mean, and I broke the trust of my favorite person on this whole damn campus…besides you.” I laugh at my stupid joke, but Henry doesn’t.

  His fingertips lift my chin when I try to duck, and his eyes lock onto mine.

  “You are not mean, Lily. You know how I know?”

  I don’t speak. I’m not sure I want to know. It won’t be true. I’m mean. I am so mean. And Henry is going to Germany…with porcelain girl.

  “You aren’t mean because if you were, you’d never feel bad about it,” he says, and the strangest expression paints his face. He’s so resolute about it, and I think maybe it’s because guilt is not something Henry Alderman understands very well. He’s felt it before. He’s felt it for me. He did when I fell into the water. Does it have to be something extreme? Physical? Would he feel remorse if he knew I would be jealous? Or would he like it, just like he’s been taught to.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Stella?” I had to ask, even though every fiber inside me was working to push this question back inside. I wanted to bury it because it lets Elena win. But really, she’s right—I never stood a chance at her game.

  Henry’s reaction is blank, and I wouldn’t anticipate the pain that was surely coming if it weren’t for the slight jolt in his muscles. His bicep twitched as I asked. His cheek lifted just a hair when one eye squinted. If I had blinked, I would have missed it, but I did not—it was there. I saw it…felt it.

  His chin lifts and his gaze moves to the space behind me, to the city’s skyline and the thick park trees. His forehead is wrinkled with the glare from the sun, and his mouth pulls in on one corner the slightest bit.

  Maybe he’s also guilty when he’s caught.

  “I hardly know her…”

  “You’re going to Germany together,” I butt in.

  Henry lets out a laugh then looks down at me. My grip loosens on his sweatshirt.

  “We’re both going to Germany. Not together.” His head falls to the side just a little.

  “But you will be…together? I mean, it’s the same program. It’s not a coincidence, right?” I ask.

  Henry sighs and steps away, enough that I have to let go.

  “No, Lily. It’s not a coincidence. Is that what you want to hear?” His tone is ugly, and I wince at it, which makes him bow his head and pinch his brow.

  “Henry, she knew things about me.”

  “Yeah, because guess what? I talk about you.” His answer is sharp.

  “You never talk about her. Is that because she isn’t important? Or is it because…”

  “Because I’m hiding a secret affair with another girl from another school who I rush off to Germany with because you, Lily…you’re just not enough for me.” His face deadpans, and I know he’s being sarcastic to try to jar me out of envy, but there’s this looming sense I can’t shake. I won’t be able to if I don’t just ask.

  “Have you ever kissed her?”

  He blinks a single time. I laugh out to the side, caught somewhere between surprised and expected.

  “We weren’t a thing then,” he explains.

  I nod. He’s right; we weren’t.

  “You guys just break into her parents’ liquor that night? Hide in the basement playing spin the bottle?” I’m only partly joking, but the way my accusation causes his eyes to flicker squeezes my breath away.

  “Did you…do more than kiss, Henry?”

  My skin starts to actually crawl. I flash through the mental portrait I’ve stowed away of Stella, her perfect hair and tiny figure and long legs. I think of the things I’ve done with Henry, his confident touch and the way his hands know exactly where to be on me, to make me feel.

  “Did you…”

  “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to, Lily.”

  I swallow. Hard. I don’t have to ask because that right there was enough of an answer.

  “Was she your first?”

  His head falls more to the side. Finally, there’s the guilt in his eyes. Of course it’s there—this is extreme.

  I fall back into the bench, sitting with my fists on my knees and disbelief swirling around my head. My God, Elena is the master of mind games.

  “You want me not to go?”

  I shake my head after a full second, not sure he really said that or I dreamt it. I would be lying if I said I didn’t have that exact fantasy once or twice since I found out he was going to be gone. Henry shifts his feet and moves his hands into the front of his hoodie.

  “I won’t go. Will that make this better for you?” I’m looking at him when I hear the words this time. They’re real.

  I nod yes, but I speak, “No.”

  “That’s a confusing response.”

  I flash a wry smile, but he’s not in the mood for my jokes.

  “No, of course you need to go. I just feel like this is all so convenient, and Elena really sold it to me.” My shoulders slump, and Henry takes another step forward, kicking his foot into mine. I glance down at it and leave my focus there, off his perfect lips and tempting eyes. I can think better when I’m looking at the dirt.

  “If it isn’t Stella, it’s going to be someone else, Lily. I told you that Elena likes to pair me off. It’s like a social experiment for her. I mean, you have to know that Alice didn’t get that job because she was this amazing personal assistant.”

  My face wrinkles at what he’s suggesting, but I keep my eyes down.

  “Lily…Elena saw that you entertained me, and so she took Alice on as a package deal. She hooked you with the piano but it was all about her letting us interact. She thought of you as practice, as someone whose heart I could break a thousand times! Someone I could learn to be both kind and cold to, just like she is with everyone else.”

  “That’s horrible,” I utter, eyes fluttering down.

  “Yes,” he answers. “But it’s how Elena is. Always playing matchmaker and instilling some sort of twisted lesson. She didn’t bargain on how impossible it would be to not let you in, though.”

  My heart pauses as I soak his words in, my gaze diving deep into his, swimming in the honesty soaked into every bit of what he said. It scares me to like him so much.

  “I’m not like Stella. I don’t come from some big family with important last names. My last name is from dead people.” My eyes flare with those last words, and I realize how cold and honest what I just said was. Henry moves to sit next to me, but not close enough to touch.

  “Maybe that’s why she wanted you around. You’re different, and maybe she thought different would be good for me, so I would never be caught off guard.” He shrugs, and I instantly feel like a human supplement. My stomach is sick.

  “Like an experiment,” I say.

  “Don’t,” Henry says, finally reaching for my hand. I grab on loosely, and he squeezes me to encourage me to grip harder. I think about shaking Stella’s hand, about how her grasp changed when Elena brought up their late night of getting in trouble. She was remembering the innocence they lost.

  “Don’t sleep with her again,” I say, realizing my question sounds like a lunatic, jealous girlfriend. I own it, though, because at this moment, that’s what I am.

  Henry’s lips twist to hold in a laugh, and I scoot into him, giving him a slight shove.

  “I’m dead serious. You better keep a journal over there, and I want you to sign a pledge every single day that you did not sleep with her.”

  Henry laughs. I don’t.

  “Oh, you’re…you’re serious.”

  I lift my shoulder. I’m not, entirely, but if he’s really willing, then yes, I want a journal—a big, fat, chaste, good-behavior journal.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE FIRST WEEK OF SUMMER BEFORE JUNIOR YEAR

  Just once, I want to be excited about summer again, like I was when I was a little kid. I never wanted this summer to come, but it did. It’s arrived.

  The flight to Frankfurt is a little more than eight hours. Henry leaves for the airport in three. Stella is already there. I’m not sure if Henry asked for a separate flight or if the heavens graced me, but I’m glad they’re not traveling together. Jealousy is strange that way. It throws rationale out the window. I trust Henry more than I trust my betraying imagination.

  I’m also not a naïve dreamer. Losing my parents at the critical age of thirteen gave me a stark perspective on reality. I know that Henry and I might not be the same couple we are now when he gets back. I know I’ll change—he’ll change. But it doesn’t mean I don’t hope we change in a way that still fits together…somehow.

  We fit together now.

  I didn’t miss a single crew race this season. I even traveled to the ones way down south, and up north to Wisconsin. I refused to go with Elena, so I made friends with other parents, including Caleb’s. He’s out to his parents, and he told them how he confided in me. They spent the road trip to Wisconsin picking my brain on whether or not I thought others would accept Caleb for who he is. It was hard for me to answer.

  “No one is really who they are at Satis House,” I said. “They’re all pretending.”

  I was wrong about that, though. Not everyone pretends. Henry is real most of the time, when Elena isn’t in his head. And Nicki is the most real person I’ve ever met. She is the physical definition of unabashed.

  I hope I’m a little real, too.

  “If I don’t head back soon, Elena will send someone here to get me,” Henry says, my head resting on his chest and our feet hanging off the end of my twin bed. Our fingers twine together. We’ve been playing this silent game for several minutes—the rules that we have to squeeze hands with each other at exactly the same time, but we can’t speak to let each other know when. We’re perfectly in sync, and we never seem to mess up.

  “I know. Just a little longer?” I said that thirty minutes ago and he stayed.

  “Okay,” he says, rolling to his side and pulling me in close. We’re facing each other now.

  Collin is at work. He probably wouldn’t like that Henry is in my bedroom, but we’ve never really crossed that strange parenting bridge over rules like boys in rooms and such. I’m probably taking advantage of that fact, but Henry’s leaving soon, and I want time with him in a place that doesn’t feel like we’re being watched and judged.

  “I like the way your bed smells,” he says, nuzzling his nose against mine. I turn my head and breathe in my pillow and sheets.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s just soap,” I say.

  “I like it just the same,” he says.

  Henry draws in a deep breath and moves his chin above my head, a soft moan vibrating his throat. I make the same sound. We’re both sad that our time is dwindling.

  “Are you sure Collin can take you to the airport?” he asks.

  “He promised. He’s getting off in one hour,” I say.

  I refuse to ride with Elena, but I also won’t miss seeing Henry off.

  My jaw hurts from spending a straight hour kissing him, but even so, I keep moving to taste him one last time, my mouth touching his chin, his neck, his chest. There are things I wanted with Henry—things I wanted him to be my first for. I’m not ready now, though. I know I’m not.

  “I wanted to make this last time special, but…” I finally eke out a confession.

  “Shh,” Henry says, kissing the top of my head. “It is special,” he adds.

  I close my eyes tight and sigh against him. I still want to feel him. Even if it isn’t all the way.

  “Do you think…we could maybe…” I drag my hand down his chest, pausing at the place where his jeans button. My hand is buzzing with nerves, and not because I don’t want to feel him but because I’m too embarrassed to try.

  “Lily,” he leans back just enough to look at me with one slightly lifted brow.

  “I just want to…before you go…” I scrunch my face, mortified and uncomfortable. Henry lets out a quiet laugh, then moves his hand until it covers mine and holds me still.

  “Lily, I’m so happy just lying here and holding you,” he says.

  I bite at my lip because God, that’s sweet. But it’s also not why I’m being so forward, though probably the most awkward forward there has ever been.

  “I’m…not.” I suck in my lips and watch for my words to sink in. Henry’s eyes haze slowly and his head turns ever so slightly in this seductive suspicion. Slowly, his hand pushes mine along his pants, half inches at a time, until I feel how hard and warm his body is down there. I suck in a sharp breath when I feel him flex under my touch, and his hand puts more pressure on mine, pushing me into him and encouraging my fingers to curl around his form.

  My chin lowers against his chest so I can see where my hand meets him. His hand loosens its grip, and his fingers tickle along my knuckles until they move from his jeans to mine, stopping along my inner thigh, inches away from a place where I feel wet.

  Emboldened, and wanting Henry to do the same, I run my hand up and down the bulge in his jeans a few times before stopping at the button above his zipper. I tug it loose before my nerve leaves and Henry’s stomach sinks in fast with surprise. His hand grips at my leg harder, moving just a little closer, but not close enough.

  I take his zipper down slowly, as if making too much noise or rushing too fast will ruin this sensitive and quiet balance in my room. I don’t want anything to ruin this, and I don’t want to hurry, yet I’m in a rush all the same.

  My hand works to open the flap in his jeans, and I let my hand feel his size over his boxers. His body is much hotter through the thin layer of cotton, and his hips push upward into my touch as another moan leaves his lips.

  I rock my own hips, giving him permission, and his hand works quickly, pressing up between my legs with a firm hold that eases the pressure that was nearly boiling inside me. My lips part and I pant, and as I do, Henry rocks his hips into my hand again.

  No longer ashamed of wanting this, I move my hand to the band of Henry’s boxers and dip inside until I’m touching him bare. My hand wraps around him completely, and I can feel his pulse under my touch.

  “Oh God,” he groans, sliding his hands up to the top of my jeans.

  I reach down with my opposite hand and help to unbutton the top and slide my zipper down. Henry’s touch is much faster than mine, his fingers diving into my soft, pink panties and finding the aching spot between my legs. I squeeze him with my thighs and begin to move with his touch, his fingers sliding up and down while my hand does the same to him.