“Maybe I don’t know what kind of person you are.” She crosses one leg over the other and starts tapping her toe, impatient, as if I’mnot going to say anything interesting or useful at all. Something in the way she turns away from me makes me want to tell her the truth, to prove to her that I’m not actually following some boy to school, that I’ve made up my own mind about my future. But telling her before telling Ethan would be the ultimate betrayal. He has to know first. I have to tell him soon. I—
“Actually, I’m going to Penn.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to wrap my arms around them and yank them back, like they never existed at all. “It’s a secret.” My earlobes are on fire, a wild sensation but one that makes sense when I realize it’s not just my earlobes but my whole face. “Only my parents know. And Erica.” I turn away from her, making a tally mark on the legal pad. “I don’t know why I told you that. Please don’t say anything.”
Olivia stops tapping her foot. Her whole body stills, and when she speaks, her voice is hushed. “Ethan doesn’t know.”
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“How come?”
Don’t say anything, I will myself.You don’t trust her. You barely know her anymore.She’s looking at me with such intensity I feel like my heart is going to stop beating. But then, as if a trance has been lifted, Olivia blinks, like she’s surprised with herself. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.” Her cheeks redden. “My mom says I try to make people feel bad when I’m on the defense.”
There’s a weight on my chest as heavy as an elephant’s foot. “You don’t have to be defensive with me.”
Olivia opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but just then, there’s a loud banging coming from the back of the police station, the sounds of doors slamming, and shouting.
I spring to my feet, craning my neck to see, and three officers appear, rushing back to where the commotion’s coming from.
“What’s going on?” I ask the guard behind the desk.
He glances at us, then back toward the hallway, where the sounds of metal scraping against the floor and officers’ yelling get louder and louder.
“You can’t keep me here!” someone calls. “You have no proof. You havenothing!”
A calm female voice rises above the rest, and when she speaks, it sounds like she’s getting closer. “We need to take a DNA sample. It’s standard procedure. It’s—ouch! Jesus Christ! He bit me! Arrest him for assaulting a police officer!”
A moment later, Detective Hampton rushes forward clutching her hand, her eyes wide and her hair out of place. She doesn’t register us as she dips her head down to the reception. “Don’t let him leave,” she says. “Not until I’m back.”
“Where are you going?” the guard asks.
“To process this.” She holds up her hand. “At least he left DNA onme.” I gasp, and that’s when she turns and sees Olivia and me. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says, and dashes off into the street before we can explain why were sent to the station in the first place.
But none of that matters, because as I tiptoe to the hallway, I see that deep in the bowels of the police department, there are three officers escorting Justin Vreeland into a conference room. And it sure doesn’t look like he’s leaving anytime soon.
The Party
1:30 a.m.
Billy stood near the half-empty bottles of booze with Ethan and Dylan, trying to remember the words to some Billy Joel song his dad used to sing to him when he was young.
“Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn’s got a winning team,” Billy sang, his voice off-key. “What’s next, dude?” He elbowed Ethan in the stomach.
“How should I know? I’m a Bruce guy.”
“Long Island traitor!” Dylan wrapped an arm around Ethan’s neck, and Billy threw his head back, laughing.
But when he opened his eyes, he realized the crowd on the back patio had thinned, his classmates slipping away into the night. He still couldn’t find Erica, who this whole party was for. “Yo, did Erica leave?” he asked.
Dylan looked around and pointed to a small black purse. “I think that’s her bag. She’s probably around here somewhere.”
Billy wanted to look for her, but Ethan clapped him on the back. “Didn’t you want to find Justin?”
He did, Billy remembered, and as luck would have it, Justin was sitting in an Adirondack chair, vaping with one of his buddies from the football team.
“That, my dude, is an excellent call.” Billy wiggled out of Ethan’sgrasp and leapt across the lawn until he was standing directly in front of Justin. He could do with a little blow. Maybe a bump of ketamine. He wanted something that would keep him up, that would keep this party going and make him a little more confident when he finally talked to Erica.
“What do you have tonight?” Billy asked.
Justin shook his head. “I’m not your vending machine.”
