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There’s a moment when time stands still. I could lift my arm and smile and pretend that I haven’t heard a thing. We could walk and talk and probably kiss some more. But I’d still be a nothing to her in this Nebraskan hellhole she clearly despises.

Dinner churns in my stomach as my gut tightens. I always knew getting involved with Riley would be bad news, but I never expected anything like this. Sure, it would never last, but at least the break would be clean. She’d fly back to California and I’d move on.

Thing is, Jake’s an asshole, but he’s right: I’m not the kiss-’em-and-dismiss-’em type. I was a fool to think I could get involved and then walk away so easily.

My head swivels side to side. Riley’s face drops. She knows I’ve overheard everything.

“Wait, Colton,” she calls, shoving the window up as far as it’ll go. “I can explain. Please.”

But I don’t need her explanation. Rationally, I know the fight wasn’t about me, but I still feel like I’ve been reduced to nothing. I reach up to massage my jaw as I turn away.

“Aargh,” Riley growls before the sound of the sash slamming down on the windowsill echoes off the building across the street.

CHAPTER 33

Riley

I SPENT MOST of the night staring at the ceiling and crying, and now I have a horrible headache that pounds against my skull when I drag myself out of bed. Unfortunately, it was impossible to sleep in this unfamiliar hotel bed, so when I hear roosters crowing just after 5:50 a.m., I take it as a sign to give up trying.

I pull out a sketchbook and pencil and lean back against the headboard. Most everything feels outside my control, but is there any way I can fix things with Colton? I’m not sure what he overheard, but there’s plenty for him to be upset about. I wish I’d told him more; maybe then he’d understand.

Almost subconsciously, my hand moves the pencil across the paper, the soft scratching sounds accompanied by birdcalls and the hush of the wind pressing against the windowpanes.

On the page, the prairie sky is clear and goes on forever and ever. All that space to fill with hopes and dreams. A figure emerges in the foreground. Her hands are stretched out by her sides, the blades of grass tickling her palms. Her bonneted head is tipped up to the sky, and her skirts billow in the breeze that sends the field rippling around her. She is adrift in a prairie-grass sea.

My hand stills.

I am her.

She is me.

There’s a soft knock on my door.

“Come in.”

Mom eases the door open and steps inside. “Couldn’t sleep?”

I shrug.

“I couldn’t either. Can I sit?”

Pulling my legs up to my chest, I make room for her at the end of my bed. She straightens the comforter and then sits, her hand resting on my toes.

Mom sighs. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking after our conversation last night. And I realize that your dad and I should have gone about all this differently.” She lifts her hand and swirls it around. “We really thought that it would be less disruptive to you if we held off telling you about the move until the end of the school year.”

“How long have you known?” I ask, my voice coming out dry and raspy over the lump in my throat.

“Only since April. It seemed like such a long shot back when we applied in October. Then things got busy with the holidays. And there were such long periods of silence throughout the interview process, Dad and I didn’t think we’d get one job offer, let alone two.” Mom shrugged. “When we accepted the positions, we didn’t think it would be that big a deal for you. You’ve always been up for an adventure, and it’s only a year until you start college. In a way, it’s like a practice run.”

It’s not quite an apology, but at least she realizes they messed up. I suppose it’s a start. Still, it’s completely unfair that no one asked for my opinion.

“I had plans, Mom. Nebraska wasn’t part of them.” My eyes well with tears but I blink them back.

“I know. And believe it or not, Dad and I considered what this move would mean for you. We knew you’d have to change a lot of your plans. But even with in-state tuition, it would have cost more than we can afford to send you to college in California. Now both you and your brother will be able to go for free and we won’t have to worry about trying to pay the mortgage, homeowner’s insurance, and tuition bill.”

I open my mouth to speak but Mom doesn’t give me a chance. “Not having to work a job to put yourself through school or take out student loans is a huge advantage. Plus,” she says, glancing down at my sketchbook, “I hear the Alden art department has lots of great classes.”

“They do?”