Page 8 of Out of Bounds

"They’re abusing Adam," Adam announced.

"Oh, good." June snorted. "Productive!"

Adam ignored her long enough to bring the conversation back to me. "And Ryan’s still pussywhipped. No news there."

"Ryan isn’t pussywhipped," June chided him. "He just wants to apologize for being an asshole. You wouldn’t understand." She picked up a small weight, walked over to Adam, and lowered it on his chest to a round of curses from him.

"Oh, come on, June." I shook my head. "He’s so tiny. Don’t kill him."

"Killme?!"

King held his head in his hands, trying not to laugh, and June put her hand on her hip. "It’s character building."

"Killme?!" Adam repeated. "Did you just call me fucking tiny? I bench—fuck you. I’m your linebacker, Icoveryour ass. Whatever. I’m taller thanallof you. You’re just jealous."

With a roll of her eyes, June put her attention back on me. "Ryan, seriously, what’s the update? Did she say no?"

"She—"

"Oh—I can’t forget." June took a sip of her coffee. "Coach Lawson and Cleo said they need to talk to you before class."

I knew what the conversation was.

Why not stay at Marrs for your senior year?

"The artist hasn’t said no yet," Adam grunted from the weights. "Sherlock can’t find her."

That was enough. "We’re running track after this."

"What?" Adam demanded, heaving the extra weight off his chest. "Class is canceled, morning practice is done, and you’re making us doextra work?!"

"What do you mean you can’t find her?" June pressed until her eyes flickered down to the piece of metal and plastic I’d purposely left a bench away. "Pssh, men." She picked up my phone and turned it on with a few swipes. "Ryan, you really need a passcode."

"He’s not allowed to have one anymore," Adam said.

"I hate technology," I muttered under my breath.

June sighed. "Let’s see, art department, right? Animation… a couple of organizations. Teachers tagged…found her. Look, she went to dinner with a drawing class." She was barely able to keep down a gloating grin. "You are a bunch of amateurs. That took me seconds!"

I strode around the equipment and checked over her shoulder.

Kassie.

That was her. Well, itwasKassandra Ragar, but not the one I knew.

4

Ryan

Sliding Her Into Every Conversation

In the photo, half a dozen people posed with her in front of a colorful art project with hundreds of googly eyes. Paint streaks lined everybody’s faces. Kassie looked different. She looked…happy. Her hair was twisted into two braids down her shoulders. A hint of her curves shone through the thin Marrs shirt. And those lips. Plump and perfect.

That’s her.

On the far right-hand side, I recognized somebody else.

I wracked my brain, trying to bring up a name. The art teacher who dropped by last semester.

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