It takes him a second to realize he doesn’t like my answer, and by then the classroom door opens, voices spilling out, bodies flooding the space.
Together we turn.
Because she’s there.
Becky steps out. Her face lights up when she sees me. It’s immediate. Unfiltered. Real. The kind of reaction people don’t think about before they give it, and I’m not prepared for the way that knocks me off kilter.
My mouth almost answers.
I stop it.
Then she notices Jackson, and her smile fades. She hesitates on the threshold, one foot still lifted like she forgot how to finish the step, her attention bouncing between us, wary now.
Good. She’s learning.
She’ll need that to survive here.
I glance at Jackson, expecting the same needling grin he’s been wearing all afternoon, but it’s gone. He’s standing taller now, shoulders squared. His focus isn’t split between me and whatever reaction he’s trying to get out of me anymore. It’s fixed entirely on Becky. Not the way it was weeks ago, casual, opportunistic, like she was simply another way to get to me, but more heated. The kind of fixation that won’t let go.
I think back, remembering all the times I’ve seen him across campus recently, in places where he could watch her. Close enough to talk to her if I wasn’t already there.
Not coincidence.
A pattern I should’ve seen sooner.
Shit. This isn’t just about me anymore. He wants her. Not because she’s useful, but because somewhere along the way he decided she was worth wanting on her own.
Becky comes over and tucks herself close to my side, not touching but choosing me anyway. Like I’m where she’s safest. The feeling that gives me isn’t clean. It sits in my chest, contradictory, expanding and constricting at the same time.
Jackson sees it. Color rises in his face, his gaze moving from Becky to me, measuring the inches between us and hating every one of them. He stares like he wants to tear the distance apart with his bare hands.
Like he’d take her. Steal her away for himself.
And I—I know that look.
I’ve felt it too.
Chapter twenty-two
Blah, blah, blah
Becky
February 12, 1995
My dearest Remi,
Carrson takes me to the clearing every day.
I’ve been good. Haven’t wandered off on my own.
Partly because I’m trying to stay on his good side. Partly because he’s right.
Jackson’s always lurking. I think he’s onto me. Yesterday he was outside my chemistry class. Said he found out I only applied to one college.
Here.
He asked why.
