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“I love you,” he whispers, collapsing on top of me. “I love you so much.”
I wrap my arms around his neck to draw him closer. “I love you too.”
It's the most perfect moment of my life. The best moment of an already exquisite year.
I’m not going to Bolivia, and he’ll wait for me in Massachusetts.
I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.
30
Knocking wakes us. I didn't realize we'd fallen asleep. He winces at the noise and pulls the blanket over my chest.
“Grace!” Kappy calls. “Open the fucking door.”
I blink, moving slowly to throw off the covers.
“What time is it?” I ask Ford groggily.
“It's one,” he says, reaching for his phone.
I put on my dress, and he walks toward the door while pulling his boxers on. When he unlocks it, Kappy bursts in, glaring at Ford. “You fucking asshole,” she says, before she marches across the room.
She grabs my hand. “We've got to get out of here. Now.”
She lunges for the door, her grip around my arm unrelenting.
I pull against her. “My shoes.”
“Forget about the fucking shoes,” she says. “I can't believe I vouched for him. I'm so sorry.”
My eyes meet Ford's over my shoulder as I walk out the door—his are dark and worried. But he doesn't try to stop us.
Kappy's moving so fast I have to jog to keep up with her. “I don't understand.”
The music is still going, but everyone on this level of the house and the one above us appears to be on their phones. They stare at me as if I'm a ghost when they look up.
“Just keep walking,” Kappy says. “Go through the basement. There are fewer people in the house.”
I stiffen. “Tell me what's happening.”
“They filmed it, Grace,” she whispers. “The Kendalls. They stood at the window and filmed you guys and then put it on Hallpass.”
My chest caves in. My legs start to shake. “What? No. No one knew.”
“Can we get out of here?” she asks desperately. “We'll discuss this all night if you want, but I'm terrified of what your dad's gonna do if he gets here before we're gone. He already called my mom. He's on his way.”
“But Ford—”
“Forget about Ford,” she says, her voice hard. “The video said outright that he was in on it. Come on.”
That’s impossible. “Kappy, he would never—”
“He would,” she says. “Hurry.”
I stumble after her into the house, my dress straps falling down my shoulders. We run up the basement steps, past a handful of people in the foyer. We've just reached the driveway when Kendall and Larabeth spill out of the side gate, cackling.
“How do you like your fifteen minutes of fame, Prairie Girl?” Larabeth shouts. A crowd is now gathering behind them, spectators here for the best show Penhallow Prep has ever put on.
