“We will,” Logan says with half-hearted conviction. “Candace wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble just to strand us here permanently. Besides, she’s doing this for our kids.”
“She’s doing this for Celestra,” I’m quick to correct him. “We’re doing this for our kids.” I gaze out at the familiar outline of our old stomping grounds. “Although I have to admit, a do-over doesn’t sound all that bad. Especially if we can avoid some of our bigger mistakes while we’re here.”
“Like swallowing cursed jewelry?”
“Exactly like that.”
The parking lot is empty when we arrive, and the school is dark except for the security lights that cast eerie shadows across the facade. Logan pulls around to the back lot near the gym and quickly kills the engine.
“Boy, does this ever feel familiar,” I say, gazing at the looming silhouette of West Paragon High against the night sky, and a thousand memories hit me all at once.
Logan takes my hand as we slip out of the truck and head toward the woods that border the gym’s exterior wall. And sure enough, there, painted on the outside of the building, is the massive mural of Cerberus with his three snarling heads painted onto one overly muscular canine body.
The mascot of West Paragon High glowers down at us with six painted eyes that somehow seem to follow our every movement, even in the darkness.
“Hello, old friend,” Logan says with irony rich in his voice. “Hope you don’t mind a little company tonight.”
The woods provide just enough cover to feel hidden while still being able to see the three-headed guardian watching over us with a snarl. The soft mulch of the forest floor cushions our steps as we find a spot where moonlight filters through the branches.
“Welcome to the good old days,” Logan whispers, pulling me close. “The good old days, 2.0.”
He pulls me into his arms, and for a moment, we’re just us—not a couple of light drivers trapped in the past, not parents worried about children in a distant future, just Logan and Skyla, finding a moment of joy in the chaos that has always been our life.
“I love you,” he whispers as he looks right into my eyes. “Past, present, and whatever bizarre future it is we’re creating.”
“I love you, too,” I reply. “Even when you’re corrupting school property—and about to corrupt a very young, very virginal version of me. Take it slow, would you?”
His laugh echoes in the empty night as he leans in to kiss me, and just like that, we’re teenagers again, breaking rules and making memories under the watchful eyes of Cerberus.
And we do break every single one.
10
Gage
The wind rattles my bedroom window as if it’s trying to get inside and give me a lecture on why I shouldn’t have let my girlfriend drive home with someone whom I’m pretty sure she will never get over.
And I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have lied and said I needed to head to the cemetery. Although, in my defense, it wasn’t technically a lie. Dad asked me to do that whole security thing yesterday, and I forgot.
I blow out a breath of frustration. I thought tonight meant as much to Skyla as it did to me. But the way she kept looking at Logan—as if the two of them were in on some big joke—it made me wonder if the big joke was me. And then she said she wasn’t feeling well. It’s either a classic diversion or she was telling the truth. Either way, I felt my balls getting stomped on, whether or not she meant to do it.
If Skyla felt half as much as I feel for her, I know we’d be allright. Heck, if she felt any of it, we’d make it to the finish line and straight into eternity, too.
But then there’s Logan.
The wind picks up, and the windows rattle. Paragon is acting up tonight—the fog is thicker than usual, sticking to the glass like wet gauze.
Dad is downstairs watching some old western, clueless to the fact that I’m about to take off.
Again.
He wouldn’t care. I just don’t want the questions as I pass him on my way out the door. I don’t feel like talking to anyone, not even him.
I slide the window open and drop to the ground, landing softly in my mother’s flowerbed. She’ll kill me if she finds out I crushed her marigolds again, but some things are worth the risk. Like seeing if Skyla is okay after tonight. I know she didn’t want to see Chloe pawing all over me. She’s pissed, and hurt, and I get it. I feel exactly the same.
I could have easily teleported, but it saps me, and I’m in no mood to wear myself out more than I already am.
The engine of my truck turns over on the second try, and I ease out of the driveway with the headlights off. I don’t doubt that Dad is probably watching, but he won’t say anything. He gets it. When you’re seventeen and can’t stop thinking about a girl, you do stupid things. And with Skyla, I do fifty stupid things before breakfast.
