Even though she can barely breathe after her sixty foot dash, she goes for a cigarette in her bag. “So why are we blowing out of school? You never cut class.”
“We aren’t doing anything,” I say, clicking my lock. “I don’t feel great. I’m going home.”
She flicks her lighter and takes a deep drag. “How am I supposed to get home?”
“You have other friends, Zoe,” I say, dropping into my seat. “Worst case, Kevin can piggyback you.”
She pulls a face. “I spread my legs around him, his mind will head in an entirely different direction.”
I close my door and roll down my window. “He worships the ground you walk on.”
“So…you’re really just going home to puke?” she asks.
I shrug. “Sorry.”
She bangs her palm on the roof. “Text me if you’re not coming to school tomorrow. I’ll find another ride.”
I nod and start the car. I peal onto the road and as I pass the faculty lot, I see Principal Elbridge standing out front next to a black sedan with Detective Diaz. They both look up as I pass and I turn my head quickly. But I know I’m busted.
I hit the gas and don’t stop until I’m parked in front of Caiden’s building.
Chapter 14
Caiden
Blaire left my house Saturday morning with my cell number and my heart.
And then everything went to hell.
I spent most of last night and the night before on the phone with her, trying to talk her down. She’s terrified she’s ruined my life. I lied and told her everything was going to be okay.
I watched the sun rise hours ago, but I’m still in bed contemplating my sorry life when frantic pounding at my front door jolts me upright. I glance at the clock and find it’s after ten. My heart hammers as I climb out of bed and go to the window, expecting flashing police lights. What I see instead is Blaire’s shiny Mini.
I tug on a T-shirt and jeans and race to the door, throwing it open. The next second she’s in my arms.
I’ve asked her to stay away, as much for her as for me, but now everything I need is right here in my arms. And it’s killing me. I kick the door shut and hold her close when I realize she’s crying.
“Hey,” I say, stroking her hair. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“No it’s not,” she says into my shirt. She sniffles and lifts her damp face. “A detective was at school this morning. Professor Duncan filed a police report. I told her we were just friends and the report was wrong, but…” She presses her face against my shoulder. “I don’t think she believed me.”
There’s a moment that all the blood leaves my head and the room goes gray. This is it. It’s happening. “You should tell them the truth.”
She pulls out of my shirt and her eyes snap to mine. “You said they could send you to jail.”
“I don’t want you to lie for me, Blaire. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
At my words, the shock in her expression is exchanged for indignation. “Neither did you!”
“And if we’re up front with them, they might believe that. It’s our best chance.”
“No,” she says with an adamant shake of her head. “It’s Professor Duncan’s word against ours. They can’t prove anything if we deny it.”
I take a deep breath and guide her to the couch. We sink into it and she settles into my side. Every cell in my body hums with the contact. How can something so wrong it will send me to prison feel so right? “Did you mean what you said in the library?”
Those incredible whiskey eyes meet mine, and in them I see a future I want more desperately than any degree, any career. “You should know by now I don’t waste words. I mean everything I say.”
I press my face into her hair and breathe in her warm vanilla. “How did we get so deep so fast?”
“Didn’t Dr. Seuss say something like, ‘You’ll know when you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.’?”
Despite our current circumstances, a smile pulls at my mouth. “I think so.”
“And Richard Bach said, ‘A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks.’”
“That’s not from Jonathan Livingston Seagull.”
“The Bridge Across Forever.”
“Ah. Makes much more sense.”
“I have so many locks, Caiden,” she says, her voice hitching on my name. “But you fit them all.”
I pull her closer as my heart shatters.
She settles deeper into my side. “Did you know only ten states set the legal age of consent at eighteen? In thirty two states it’s sixteen.”
“So we had the bad luck to live in the wrong place.” I press my lips to the crown of her head and stroke her hair. I let myself have this for right now, not really knowing if it’s right or wrong and not really caring just at this moment.
“What are we going to do?” she says, her voice little more than breath against my neck.
I peel her gently back and look into those mesmerizing eyes. “Whatever we have to.”
She leans toward me, but just as our lips touch, there’s a knock.