“Sadie always has contraband,” Charlie explained, opening the bag of peanut butter cups. “It’s why we put up with her.”

“Oh, whatever.” I pretended to be mad. “Nick does, too. He just went to the extra-special preschool where they learned math instead of how to share.”

Nick sighed, opened a desk drawer, and tossed a water bottle into the pile.

“Vodka,” he said. “What was that about not sharing again?”

“Where did you get this stuff?” Lane asked, which I guess I’d been expecting. There was only so long you could be at Latham without noticing the contraband bags of chips, or the water bottles of booze at weekend movie nights, without asking someone where it came from.

“I’m a coyote,” I said. “I help illegal goods cross the border into Latham.”

He laughed, thinking it was a joke, and then realized I wasn’t kidding.

“What else can you get?” he asked.

“Name it,” I said.

“Wait,” Lane said. “You do this for real?”

“Nick and I do. We’re the kingpins of the black market.”

We’d inherited the responsibility about nine months ago, from this kid Phillip, who’d gone home. Which was about the time Nick had inherited an interest in dating me, although I’d quickly let him know that was never going to happen.

“That mixed metaphor was painful,” Nick said, wincing.

“How painful? On a scale of one to ten,” I prompted.

“Screw you,” Nick said, not meaning it. “And seven.”

And then we watched Spirited Away, which I hadn’t seen for ages. It was about a girl who got trapped in the spirit world and worked at a witch’s bath house to rescue her parents and get home. I know that sounds like some kid movie, but trust me, it’s amazing. I’d forgotten how much I loved it.

At one point, I glanced over at Lane, who was staring at the screen, enthralled. His face was lit up in the glow of the monitor, all sharp angles, and I couldn’t help but imagine reaching out and tracing my finger over the curve of his jawline.

I don’t know why I did it, but I imagined us at a real movie theater, splitting an overpriced popcorn, our fingers getting tangled as we scooped the last kernels from the bottom. And it was a real date, the kind where he picked me up in his car and we ran into people we knew from school. Except his town was hours away from mine, and I didn’t know if he had a car, and we didn’t go to the same school, and those weren’t even the reasons it wouldn’t work. It was just a fantasy. Just a scene in my head of a date I’d never have with a boy who hadn’t asked me.

Lane looked over at me and smiled then, and we stared at each other in the dark, across Charlie, who was snoring softly. I wasn’t mad anymore about his being friends with Nick. I wasn’t mad about any of that. I was angry that Marina was wrong about us being Lizzie and Mr. Darcy, even in some made-up version with wombats and dirigibles. Because if the past year had made me certain of one thing, it was that love stories at Latham all ended the same way: with someone left behind.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LANE

THERE WAS SOMETHING about having a group of friends at Latham that transformed it. When I thought back to that first day, watching from my window as the four of them slunk back from the woods, they’d all seemed so mysterious and unapproachable.

But as I became a regular fixture at their dining table, they came more sharply into focus. And so did life at Latham House. It was like I’d misread the directions and had been trying to solve an unsolvable equation, when all I had to do was simplify.

Nick began knocking on my door before breakfast, and we’d wake up Charlie, who was usually still in bed and was apparently allergic to early mornings. We’d spend first rest period playing video games in Nick’s room, and I’d walk the lake path in Wellness with Sadie and Marina. Then I’d grab a shower and take a nap until dinner. We kept up the post-dinner movie marathon, sneaking the girls into our dorm each night. Marina brought over her selection of Miyazaki movies, which I couldn’t believe I’d missed. I wasn’t an anime fan, so I’d always figured they weren’t my thing, but they completely were.

I remembered how, at summer camp, the first few days had always felt disorienting, and then one morning I’d wake up and everything would just click. That Friday, everything just clicked. I worked on my Dickens packet in English and tried to stay awake during this documentary about the Dark Ages. And then, as we were leaving lunch, Nick complained that his math teacher had brought a travel thermos again and spilled it, making the entire classroom smell like coffee.

“It was like a torture chamber,” he complained. “And then, on top of it, we had to do math.”

“There’s no reason we can’t have caffeine,” Sadie informed us. “I looked it up.”

“Except that Latham doesn’t want us bouncing off the walls,” said Nick.

“Which you do anyway,” Marina said, and we all snickered.

“Oh, whatever,” Nick grumbled.

I asked why they didn’t just smuggle in coffee, and Sadie stared at me like I’d suggested she bring in mung beans.

“Instant coffee?” She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

“See, that’s a coffee drinker’s problem,” Marina said. “Meanwhile, I’m perfectly fine with tea bags.”

“I love that there’s such a rivalry,” said Charlie. “It’s like, leaf water versus bean water, you know?”

“Bean water?” Sadie echoed. “You better take that back.”

“Watch out, espresso shots are being fired in the drink fandom,” said Nick.

“Can we not talk about coffee, though?” I asked. “Because it’s all I can think about. That, and how we don’t have any.”

Coffee was one of the main things I missed from my old life. Every time Finnegan brought a travel thermos, I practically salivated.

“Actually . . .” Sadie nodded toward the woods, grinning mischievously.

Everyone besides me seemed to know what she meant.

“Oh no,” Marina said. “Not again.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Sadie asked.

“I’ll find my sense of adventure when you find your sense of direction,” Marina retorted.

“It was one small miscalculation,” Sadie said. “Besides, I have a compass now.”

We were stopped on the lawn outside the cottages, and Charlie started to walk away.

“Wait,” Sadie called. “Where are you going?”

“To take a nap,” he said, and then snorted. “Where do you think? To get my wallet.”

“Does someone want to fill me in?” I asked after Charlie disappeared inside.

“We’re going to Hogsmeade,” Sadie said. “To get butterbeer.”

I was really, really confused.

“There’s a Starbucks down in Whitley,” Nick explained.

And then it dawned on me what they meant. They were talking about sneaking to town.

“No way,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Why not?” Sadie asked innocently.

“There are about a hundred reasons why not. Number one, we’re quarantined. Number two, I’m pretty sure someone will notice. Number three, it’s the middle of the aftern—”

“Are you seriously going to stand there and list them all?” Marina asked.

I glared.

“What about these?” I lifted my wrist with the med sensor.

“No problem,” Sadie assured me. “They only show your location if the sensor goes off, so the nurses can find you. Dr. Barons doesn’t sit there Geotracking us around Latham House.”

I stared at it doubtfully.

“I promise it’ll be completely fine,” Sadie said. “Don’t you trust me?”

I wanted to. I really did. But more than that, I wanted to keep hanging out with them. And I had the impression that if I didn’t go, their ranks would close, and I’d find myself adrift again on the colorless sea of Latham, with no one to blame but myself.

So I relented, and then Charlie came down from the dorm and we headed off into the woods.