But it was time I made a different kind of choice.
Sweeping aside glass, I climbed to the edge of the window, making myself visible to the crowd below. It was cooler here, the smoke mixing with crisp air. Below, a ring of people circled Mint’s body, ignoring shouts from firefighters who raced up behind them. Some of the Homecoming crowd was running from the parade in fear. But the rest—the majority—gazed up, transfixed by the sight of me. The red-faced, bloody girl, blond hair whipping behind her, standing atop the tower, criminal and defiant.
Gasps spread among the crowd. Arms lifted, fingers pointing. “She pushed him,” someone yelled, clear and loud enough to carry up to me.
In front of the whole world:Jessica Miller, villain.
Sirens cut through the noise, and I saw, with my bird’s-eye view, dazzling red and blue lights. Cop cars speeding toward us, parting the crowd like the Red Sea.
One last moment of freedom.I took a deep breath of cool air, heavy with the scent of magnolias. Looked back at the crowd, and this time I spotted him. Right there at the edge, his face tilted up, mouth set in a hard line. I nearly lost my footing.
Jack.
Chapter 42
May, sophomore year
For the first time in a long time, it was just the three of us. Movie night, my favorite, worth suffering through whatever early-aughts film Caro had chosen to see her happy, to see Heather shake her head with secret affection, to lock the door and curl on Caro’s bed and leave the rest of the world on the other side.
Tonight, it felt like we’d dialed time back to freshman year. Just me, Heather, and Caro, before everything else had washed in and made life complicated.
The window was open. The night was dark and hushed, not a sound from campus except for the gentle swish of tree branches in the warm breeze. Sprawled at our feet on the twin bed, Caro snored softly, the credits toCruel Intentionsstill rolling on mute.
I scooted closer to Heather and rested my head on her shoulder. My feet brushed Caro, but she didn’t wake. I sighed. “I don’t want this year to end. I wish I could stay right here forever.”
Heather’s cheek rubbed the top of my head. “If you don’t want to go home for the summer, come with me to Cleveland. We can do sleepovers every night. We’ll swim at the club and get wasted on daiquiris and flirt with the tennis instructors.”
I rolled my eyes to cover the fact that she’d zeroed in on exactly what I was dreading. “Do our boyfriends exist in this scenario?”
Heather laughed. “What Jack and Minty don’t know won’t hurt them. Come on. I want a summer-break buddy. We can call you an intern and my dad can pay you.”
I groaned, feeling the weight of everything I’d been ignoring so I could have fun tonight drop back on my shoulders. “I can’t. I have to start studying for the GRE.”
Heather lay down flat on the bed, rustling Caro, who snored on. She crossed her arms, and I knew what was coming. “Jessica Marie Miller, you are asophomore. That word is synonymous withzero responsibilities. I know I say this a lot, but loosen up. You have two whole years to think about your future. I see you studying like crazy every night, freaking out over every test. It looks miserable.”
I shook my head. Our arms touched, which made me feel warm and safe, like I could be honest. “I have to go to grad school for econ and work in DC.”Like my dad planned, I thought to myself, but didn’t say out loud.
“You have the most specific, boring dreams,” Heather complained.
I shifted onto my side. “Yeah, well, first I have to get perfect grades at Duquette. Then perfect grades in grad school. And then, maybe, I can live a little.” I was certain I’d have a shot if I worked hard enough. I tucked that certainty into a warm place in my heart.
“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” Heather teased, snuggling closer. “You’re obsessed with that word. You know no one is actually perfect, right?”
The unkind thought came quickly:Easy for her to say. She somehow managed to get everything she wanted without having to worry about earning it. She was the exception to the rule.
I swallowed the thought and decided to tell her the truth. “I want to make my parents proud.” No moresorry to inform you. “I want to look back in ten years and know I did everything right.” No moresecond place, no morepunching down.
Heather shifted, staring at the ceiling, eyes tracing the little glow-in-the-dark stars Caro had stuck there. Caro, forever obsessed with what she wasn’t allowed to have when she was young.
“In ten years,” Heather said slowly, “you’re not even going to remember the things that seem important now. You’re going to have totally different priorities. I bet you’ll look back and laugh at everything that feels so dramatic now.”
She yawned and bumped my shoulder. “We’ll still be friends, of course, so in ten years, I’ll remind you we had this conversation. You’re going to laugh. Trust me.”
She got excited and turned on her side. “I just had the best idea. Let’s do predictions! I’m super good at them. I’ll bet you a million dollars that ten years from now, I’m famous.”
“How?” I asked, but Heather shrugged. “Don’t know. I like my archaeology class. Maybe I’ll be the female Indiana Jones. Or Hollywood’s hottest plastic surgeon. But most likely reality TV.”
“I thought you said you’re going to major in English.”
