She held up a travel guide to Italy. “Mind if I go with you?”
“We’ll leave tonight.” Ollie stepped toward her, and her heart spasmed. But he had only come closer to remove his keys from his pocket and take the plate to his bed.
Disappointed, she flipped open the guidebook. “Positano. Hotel Intermezzo. Excellent value in this charming, family-run hotel overlooking the sea.” She carried the book to his bed and plopped down beside him. “Shall I call for a reservation?”
Ollie smiled as he bit into a burrito. He held out the plate with his other hand. She accepted one. It was strange sharing a plate, but she liked it. It made her feel close to him.
“Tell me,” he said.
Makani swallowed before speaking. The cheap burrito was thoroughly mediocre but immensely satisfying. “Tell you what?”
“About your last boyfriend. The reader.”
She smiled. Caught. And then she nudged his leg with her kneecap, pleased by his obvious jealousy. “I thought I’d steered us away from that conversation.”
“You tried. Usually, you’re good at that. At steering away.”
It was the first time that it had been acknowledged out loud. She felt chastised but rose to the challenge. “Okay, here’s my offer. I’ll tell you about my last boyfriend if you tell me about your last girlfriend.”
Ollie considered it for a few seconds. “Deal.”
Makani steeled herself to remain honest. “His name was Jason Nakamura, and we dated for seven months.” She tried to gauge Ollie’s expression. It remained maddeningly enigmatic. “He was a swimmer, too. Freestyle.”
But then he wouldn’t talk to me anymore.
“But then I moved away.”
“Did you try to make it work long distance?” Ollie asked.
She discarded her final bite back onto the plate, an end piece of freezer-hardened tortilla. “That would be a very long distance.” When he waited for elaboration, she selected her next words carefully. “No. We didn’t like each other enough.”
Ollie nodded with understanding.
She braced herself. “Your turn. Last girlfriend.”
He set the plate onto the floor with a hollow clunk. “No one.”
It wasn’t the answer she was expecting. She stared at him, searching for comprehension. He stared back as he repeated it. “No one.”
“Explain. Use more words.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
Makani had made out with him. Makani had had sex with him. She found this statement to be highly improbable. He knew what she was thinking, and he shrugged, but it wasn’t a shrug of indifference. It was a shrug that was hiding some measure of embarrassment. “I’ve never had a girlfriend, but, yes, obviously I’ve had sex before you.”
Makani couldn’t let that one sit. “Obviously.”
Ollie squirmed and glanced up at the ceiling. “Not obviously because I was amazing. Obviously because . . .”
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hair bounced as she shook her head. “I need to hear you finish that sentence.”
His expression deadpanned. “Because I lasted more than thirty seconds.”
She burst into raucous laughter, which made him smile. Ollie always smiled when he saw that she was happy. Makani leaned into the space between them. “So, are you gonna tell me about this non-girlfriend? Non-girlfriends?”
His smile widened into a grin. “Yes.”
She moved in closer, beckoning. “But not today?”
Their lips were an inch apart.
“Not today,” he said.
They went for each other at the same time. Mouths clashed. Jackets peeled off. She lowered herself onto her back, and he moved above her, pressing down. The weight of his body made her feral. Her fingers clawed under his shirt and up his back as his hands slid over her bra. Her hands moved to the bottom of her shirt, ready to strip it above her head, when suddenly . . . they were aware.
A third person was in the room.
CHAPTER TEN
Chris stood in the doorway and swore. And then swore again. “Damn it, Ollie!”
Ollie scrambled to sit up, scrambled to make sure that Makani was covered even though they hadn’t gotten that far. “What are you doing here?”
His brother rubbed his forehead. “Nice to see you again so soon, Makani.”
Her skin burst into flames as she shielded herself behind Ollie, who tried again. “Why are you home?”
Chris dropped his hand and crossed his arms, drawing her eyes to the holster on his belt. “Chief sent me away to get some rest.” He glanced warily at the empty plate beside the bed. “When did you get here? Did you ditch again?”
Ollie didn’t reply.
“Shit, Ollie. You can’t . . . you can’t do that.”
Makani wished that she could run. She wished that she were anywhere but here.
“We missed zero schoolwork,” Ollie said. “Nothing was happening.”
“If nothing was happening,” Chris said, “then it shouldn’t have been so hard to keep seated until the bell.” When Ollie tightened his mouth, Chris groaned and collapsed into the desk chair. He followed it with a long sigh. “Listen. There’s a killer on the loose, and we don’t know who or where he is. Or if he’s even a he. That means your ass needs to be where it’s supposed to be at all times. I need to know where you are.”
“Why?” Ollie sounded remarkably incredulous for this reasonable request.
“Because it’s dangerous out there!”
“They murdered the star of the musical and the star of the football team. Tell me what I have in common with those victims.”
“You know that’s not the point. Shit,” Chris said again. He turned his attention to Makani. “You’ve gotta stop hanging out with this kid. He’s a bad influence.”
Makani felt a wave of gratitude that he didn’t view her as the bad influence. She ventured out from behind Ollie.
“Does your grandmother know you’re here?” Chris asked.
She wanted to lie, but he was a cop. “No.”
Chris shook his head. He picked up Ollie’s keys from the desk and held them out, staring at the hardwood floor. “Ollie, drive her home.”
“Chris—”
“Ollie.”
Ollie stomped over, snatched the keys in a way that made Chris wince, and then stalked out of his bedroom.
Makani followed, but she glanced back to lift a hand in goodbye.
Chris raised a weary hand in return. “Sorry. But I have to.”
It was a strange thing for a parental figure to say, and it reminded her of the unnatural relationship that he’d been forced to play in his brother’s life. In that moment, she felt sorry for Chris. Ollie hadn’t made it easy for him. Then again, nothing about Ollie’s life seemed to have been easy, either.
That night—when Haley and the drama club were supposed to be in the middle of their first dress rehearsal, when Matt and the football team were supposed to be winning their final game of the season—Darby sent a text to Makani: Can we talk?
She’d just finished loading the dirty dinner dishes into the dishwasher. Grandma Young was watching a Marvel movie in the living room. She didn’t know that Makani had been to Ollie’s house, and Makani planned to keep it that way.