Page 27 of No Place Left to Hide

“Truth, of course.”

“What’s your juiciest secret?” Beau asks.

She glances over at Felix and Jena, who are still headed straight for her, and points a long, almond-shaped fingernail at them. “Oh good. Come to the front of the circle, Felix. This truth is for you.”

I know exactly what she’s about to say. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“Felix, did you know that Jena and Beau made out in his car last year after the Albany game?”

Felix freezes. I’m already pushing my way through our classmates. He’s a full foot taller than almost everyone around him, so he’s almost directly in my line of sight as he turns and gapes at Jena. This isnotgood.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…

“What the fuck, Jena. Seriously? We were only broken up for four days!”

Beau has gone deathly pale, half hiding behind Claire. He clearlywasn’t expecting that to be the secret she shared with everyone. His mouth opens and closes a few times before a sound comes out. “It wasn’t a big deal, man. I promise. We were both thinking of other people. It’s not worth getting mad about. Honestly. It was nothing.”

“Move,” I grumble, shoving people out of my way to get to them before this blows up.

Please don’t do anything stupid, Felix.

Felix turns toward Beau. “Oh good. I’m glad you stabbed me in the fucking back fornothing.”

I hear Jena desperately trying to get Felix’s attention. His shoulder tugs backward like she’s pulling on his elbow to get him to look at her, but he doesn’t budge. I slide sideways around the table.

They’re only a few feet away. “Felix…don’t.”

He dives for Beau.

Eight

Now

Jena practically squeals all the way back to the main highway. “I knew it! I knew he liked you.”

I pull out onto the road and cling to my smile. “You totally called it.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, twisting so her back is against the door. “You’ve wanted Dylan forever. Don’t let Brandon’s stupid nonsense tear you down. He’s not worth it.”

I wish it felt that way. “I know he’s not. I just really want to get home on time and be done with the whole night, you know? And ending the day with a lecture about being late for curfew is the last thing I need right now.

She shrugs. “Okay. That’s fair.”

The clock in the dash stares me down.

10:28 p.m.

I wish I didn’t have to stop for gas, but I don’t have a choice. I won’tmake it home on less than a quarter tank, and there’s more than miles of twisty remote highway ahead of us. No way am I running out of gas in the middle of nowhere.

The Shell station parking lot is completely empty, but the little store’s lights are on and so are the fluorescents over the four gas pumps. I swing in and park at the pump closest to the main door and shut off the engine.

Jena climbs out of the car and tugs her wallet from the depths of her giant chaotic purse. “I’m going to grab us some waters. Want anything else?”

“No, I’m okay.”

She drops the bag onto the passenger seat, and I watch it bounce off and onto the floorboard with athud. Everything spills out—makeup, an umbrella, headphones, deodorant, a phone charger, lip balm, lotion, a flashlight, her crazy mess of keys—while she dances inside, unbothered.

I roll my eyes.

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