“Maybe you don’t know me.”

“Is it because of Brendan and Cassidy?” My words cut through the room like a hot knife on ice.

“What did you just say to me?” He stands and takes a step toward me.

I don’t budge. “Did you find out?”

His face is unrecognizable. “Did I find out what?”

I swallow. “I was at the park earlier, and Brendan had a picture of her. He said… Well, he told me they’d been messing around. They’re neighbors, I guess, and it’s always been a thing. If I found out Tessa was messing around with someone else?—”

“This is not about you!” he shouts, his warm, rank breath hitting my face. “It’s not about my stupid sister. It’s not about Cassidy or fucking Brendan Taylor, okay? It’s my shit, and I’ll figure it out. I do not need you or anyone else, so go.”

I press my lips together. “They’re saying Cory’s dad lost his job. Did you hear that?” I study him, looking for a hint that he knows what’s going on. “Do you know who did this? Does it have anything to do with why you’re acting so weird?”

“Oh, nowyouthink I’m a murderer too, hmm?” Returning to his bed, he drops down and rolls over on the mattress away from me.

“No. I don’t. But I think you’re acting strange because you feel guilty. Or maybe because you know who did it. And if you do, and you let our friend go down for it, I don’t think you’ll ever forgive yourself.”

Slowly, he turns over to face me, his expression still an angry pout, but at least I’m getting calm eye contact again. LessI-want-to-kill-youeye contact, anyway. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So tell me. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

For a second, I think he’s contemplating it, but then he says, “You wouldn’t understand. Please just go.”

“Try me.”

He looks at the door, then back at me. “I can’t tell you, man. Please just, just leave.”

I sit down next to him on the bed, staring at him long and hard. “Since when don’t we tell each other everything? What’s the point of brothers?”

He swallows, looking down. “Fine. You really want to know?”

“Yes. I really do.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And then…he tells me everything.

That night I’m lying in bed staring at the text message I’ve typed out to send Tessa. She deserves more than this.

Better.

But this is what I can give her. It’sallI can give her.

We need to talk. I’m sorry about this, but with me going away to college next month, I think it’s best if we break this off before either of us gets too attached. I don’t want to hurt you now or ever. I hope someday you can understand.

I squeeze my eyes shut, cursing myself. Then I press send and turn off my phone.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

TESSA — AGE 17

“I don’t even want to go to this stupid party,” I whine to Britney, who is sitting on the floor applying another coat of lipstick. She loves to mix the colors until she gets the perfect one. Tonight she’s doing a pale mauve and a rich, dark red to get a muted, deep red. I could never pull something like that off, but Britney couldn’t find a color that looks bad on her if she tried. “Why don’t we just go to the movies instead?Dark Shadowsis supposed to be good.”

“It’s your brother’s graduation-slash-moving-away-from-this-dump-truck-of-a-town party.” She stares at me pointedly, rubbing her lips together. She puckers, pleased with her appearance, and turns around. “Just because Garrett is a weird little man-baby all of the sudden doesn’t mean you’re not going to eventually regret missing this.”

I chew on my lip. She’s right. I know she’s right, and still, I hate this. I don’t want to go.