Page 221 of Wild Card 13

I thought of the way he had kissed my forehead. The way he had promised we would figure it out. The way he had said love like love was a place he could stay.

And then I thought, with a clarity so brutal it almost steadied me,he is already gone.

My breath returned all at once, sharp and painful.

Behind me, Mase said something that sounded like my name.

I did not look at him.

I turned and walked out. Fast would have drawn attention. Fast would have made people ask questions, and if someone asked me one kind thing, I would break open on Mason Keller’s deck in front of half our graduating class.

So I walked carefully.

Through the kitchen.

Past the sliding door.

Down the deck steps.

Across the yard where the grass was damp against my sandals and the lake smelled like every summer I had ever been foolish enough to think might last.

When I reached my car, my hands shook so badly I dropped my keys.

That was when the first sob came. It tore out of me before I could stop it. Ugly. Quiet. Bent over the gravel beside my own car while music kept thumping behind me and the party continued as if nothing had happened.

I picked up the keys on the third try and got inside.

The second the door closed, everything came apart. I cried withboth hands over my mouth because some part of me still believed pain could be contained if I was disciplined enough. My body folded around it anyway. Shoulders shaking. Chest burning. Tears hot on my cheeks, ruining the makeup I had put on for my mother and then carried stupidly into a party for a boy who had not even known I was there.

My phone lit up in the cup holder. I stared at his name through tears until the call went dark.

Ty: How was dinner? You okay?

Another call.

I pressed my fist against my sternum like I could hold myself together from the outside.

The phone kept lighting up.

Ty: Luce?

Ty: Call me.

I drove home with the windows down because I could not breathe otherwise. Warm summer air rushed through the car, tangling my hair, drying tears against my skin only for new ones to fall. The road blurred and sharpened, blurred and sharpened. I gripped the steering wheel with both hands and made myself stay between the lines.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, my phone had gone quiet.

The porch light was on.

The house looked exactly the same as it had when I left. Safe. Familiar. Waiting.

I sat in the dark car and looked at it until another text from my mother appeared on the screen.

Mom: Hope you’re not upset. We’ll do something soon.

CHAPTER 28

LUCY