Page 24

Draven squats beside us, gazing out at the cliff, and we fall into silence.

“How do we move on?” he finally whispers.

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I keep asking myself that, and I keep coming up with bupkis. Do you think we deserve to?”

“No,” Alastair and Draven say at the same time.

“We’re nineteen,” Alastair adds with a sigh. “Today is her birthday. How long should we mourn her and the baby we’ll never get to meet? Forever?”

“Noor was petty. You bet your ass that’s what she’d want,” I snort.

Alastair leans into me, burying his nose in my throat.

“You smell like her,” he groans.

“My diffuser has a way of following me,” I admit. “I need her scent to remind me of how alive she was. I don’t want to forget her.”

“We’re so fucked,” Draven mutters. “Are we going to be eighty, coming back to the scene of our crimes?”

“We didn’t push her,” I sigh. “Don’t act as if we did.”

“No. We were still responsible for making her last months a living hell,” he says.

“We need rules,” Alastair mutters. “No girls. We need to stay focused. If we need to fuck, it’ll be between ourselves. I don’t see any reason not to be openly gay if we need to put a label on something to protect ourselves from puck bunnies.”

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s business,” I say. “If you want to be openly exclusive, put a ring on it.”

His lips twist as I tease him, and he smiles for the first time in months. “Baby, you’re being a brat.”

“Punish me, Daddy,” I chuckle.

Draven shakes his head as he looks out over the cliff before sighing. “Noor, you’ll always be the best person I’ve ever met and the most infuriating.”

“Agreed,” I say. “I bet she’s rolling her eyes as she looks down at us.”

“She was too good for us,” Alastair agrees. “We’ve busted our asses to get the fuck out of here, but it feels…hollow. Am I alone in this?”

“Nah, I feel it too. Every time I walk to class, hear someone laugh, or see someone sketching outside, I think about how Noor should be here. I want to do something to shake the feeling, or at least make her proud. I just don’t know how to do that.”

“Aren’t there volunteering clubs at your school?” Alastair asks.

“Yeah. I saw flyers for the Big Brothers, Big Sisters program. I think I’m going to join it. I’ll fill out the paperwork online when I get home.”

Alastair gazes at the roses we bought and blinks back tears. This is too little, too late. We all know it, but none of us could face not celebrating her birthday.

“You three have zero self preservation.”

I scream as the deep, emotionless voice speaks behind us while Alastair and Draven both flinch. Looking behind me, I find one of Noor’s dads standing there with his glasses on his nose and his hands deep in his pockets.

His dark hair barely moves in the breeze and he arches his brow in my direction.

“Please don’t shit yourself again. My nostrils can’t handle it.”

“You need a goddamned bell,” I breathe.

“Is this a funeral for Noor?” Theo snorts. “It’s a little late if you ask me. Roses for the dead girl are a bit cliched, don’t you think?”

I’d ask how he found us, but I already know. I feel like a walking target. Theo has our locations at his fingertips, and it feels as if he’s flexing his skills to remind us of the power he holds over us. He’s light years better at hacking and electronic manipulation than I am.