“What about Piper?” I cringe at the hint of jealousy in my tone.

Since when do I sound jealous? That’s not like me. Or is it? Maybe I’ve never gotten the chance to be jealous before, and it’s really a huge part of who I am.

A hollow laugh leaves his lips. “Yeah, Piper and Logan are kind of the same with that. It’s okay, though. I’d rather them not notice. Then I don’t have to talk about why I had to sell it.”

“I get what you’re saying,” I pant, wiping the sweat from my brow. “I don’t talk to my friends about everything. I mean, I love them to death and everything, but sometimes I worry about stuff.”

He hops over a log blocking the path. “Worry about what exactly?”

“That they won’t love some of the things that I do . . . won’t understand why I do the things I do.” I dodge around a pothole in the path then turn to my side right as a revelation smacks me across the face. Grey is going to see the home I live in and know I’m not stealing because my family lives in poverty.

I search for an excuse, something that will get him to turn around and go home before we make it to my house. But before I can think of a good lie, the trees thin and my two-story home with a lavish front yard and three car garage comes into view.

I guess it’s time to tell the truth. It was going to happen eventually, anyway. Besides, after he opened up to me about his dad, I feel terrible for lying to him and letting him believe I’m a better person than I really am.

I suck in a breath and blurt out, “I know you think I stole because I’m poor, but I’m not. I’m just a bad person who steals stuff.”

He carries my gaze even when the path curves sharply to the right, and I have to look away to regain my equilibrium. Silence sets in, the awkward kind that makes me squirm. I dare a glance in his direction and cringe at the disgust in his eyes, the same disgust he had the day he turned me down for the dance.

“Thanks for telling me about the shortcut.” I pick up the pace, even though my legs are furious with me.

He doesn’t come after me, which is good since I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to look him in the eye ever again.

I make it home with seconds to spare, getting the door shut right before my mom calls.

I know I should feel grateful that I made it home in time and avoided further punishments, but all I feel is trapped, in desperate need to get control again. I can’t breathe. I swear the walls are about to close in and crush me to death.

A small part of me wishes they would.

Luna doesn’t show up at the library. With how horrified she looked when she ran away from me, I’m not that surprised. I could see in her eyes that she thought I was judging her, and why wouldn’t she think that? It’s not like I have a great track record of being a nice, nonjudgmental guy, but I wasn’t judging her.

While I don’t fully understand why she stole, I don’t think she’s a bad person like she thinks she is. After I saw how her parents treat her, I think I get why she thinks she’s bad person, though.

I call her when I get home, but she doesn’t answer, so I end up asking my mom for help with my English paper, which turns into a disaster.

She freaks out when she discovers that the assignment is about Shakespeare’s work. “But I haven’t read anything by him.”

“Don’t worry; I haven’t really read much of it, either,” I tell her¸ trying to make her feel better.

She scowls at me from across the kitchen table. “You’re telling me you haven’t been doing the reading assignments?”

“I tried, but I could barely make it through the first scene.” I lower my head in my hands. “I feel like an idiot. I should’ve tried harder instead of waiting until my senior year to try to get my grades up.”

“Honey, you’re not an idiot, and I don’t want you to ever say that again.” She reaches across the table and tugs on my arm until I look at her. “We’ll get your grades up somehow.”

I force a smile, hoping she’s right, that somehow she can help me make good on the promise to be a better person. Getting my grades up is part of accomplishing that. I wish I hadn’t screwed around so much for the last few years. Then maybe reading Shakespeare wouldn’t be like trying to understand Latin.

“What happened to that girl who was supposed to help tutor you?” my mom asks as she reads over the assignment sheet again.

“She had something come up and couldn’t make it,” I lie as my stomach grumbles.

My mom glances at me then at the clock. “Wow, I didn’t even realize it was that late. I probably should make dinner.” She pushes back from the table, wanders over the cupboard, and takes out three cans of Ravioli. “Why don’t you go call this girl and see if maybe she can meet you another day?”

My hunger pains increase at the sight of the cans. “That might work.” But I’m not sure Luna will be too happy to help me after what happened unless I somehow convince her that I’m not the douchebag guy I used to be.

“Mom, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, honey,” she says as she presses the can opener into the top of the can.

I pick at the cracks in the table. “Say there was this person who was an asshole to people for a really long time. Then one day something happened, and he decided he needed to change, but the girl he wanted to be friends with was someone he did some messed up stuff to. How would he go about convincing this girl that he’s not a jerk anymore?”

She narrows her eyes at me as she rotates the handle of the opener. “Grey Sawyer, have you been mean to girls?”

“Not lately . . . But, yeah, I have . . . in the past,” I confess, ashamed.

She pries the lid off the can. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

“You did . . . I just didn’t listen to all the amazing stuff you taught me.” I try to dazzle her with my most charming smile.

She wags a finger at me. “Don’t try to charm me, young man.”

“Sorry. I’m trying to change, though . . . be better . . . be the person dad thought I was.”

She grows quiet, and when she speaks again, her voice is overflowing with emotion. “Your dad didn’t think you were a good person. He knew you were.”

I shake my head. “He might’ve thought I was a nice guy, but . . . I’ve done some messed up stuff, and everyone at school knows it.”

She chucks the lid of the can into the trash below the sink then wipes her hands clean on a dishtowel. “Well, then I guess it’s time to start showing everyone the sweet, caring side of Grey Sawyer that I know.” She pulls out the trash bag from the bin and ties it up. “And you can start with taking the trash out for your mom.”

I get up and take the bag from her. “That sounds like the easy part.”

As I’m heading for the back door, she says, “And, Grey, if you want to show this girl that you’re a nice guy now, you can start by saying that you’re sorry for whatever it was that you did to her.”

“You think it’s that easy?”

“No, but I think it’s a start.”

Could it be that easy?

I hope so.

I spend the rest of the night eating dinner with Mia and my mom while trying to think of what I’m going to say to Luna tomorrow and how to apologize to her. After I eat as much as I can, scraping the plate clean, I get ready for bed and head into the office to say goodnight to my mom. But I stop just outside the door when I hear her talking on the phone.

“I know we’re behind on the mortgage, but things have been really rough lately.” She pauses, and when she speaks again, her voice is wobbly like she’s fighting back tears. “Fine, I understand. I’ll come up with the money.” She hangs up and bursts into sobs.

I give her a moment to cry before I knock on the door.

“Just a second,” she says quickly. I hear her rustling around with something, and then she calls out, “Okay, you can come in.”