The guys were college aged, and they stared at me in this uncomfortable way that I thought was only reserved for girls in tight dresses, and not girls in jeans and striped shirts.

I was still coughing, and the blond one walked over, laughing.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Kettle corn,” I said, trying to catch my breath.

“You wanna come back inside? I’ll buy you a drink,” he said.

I realized he thought I’d been in the bar, which made sense, because I was standing right outside.

I shook my head.

“I have to meet someone,” I said.

“We’ll walk you,” the guy said, suddenly pushy. “Won’t we?”

His friends nodded and said that yeah, it was no trouble, they’d walk me.

“That’s okay.”

I started to edge away, and he sort of blocked me.

“What’s wrong?” the guy asked. “You don’t wanna talk to us anymore?”

I glanced toward the passage that led back onto the street.

“I told you, I’m meeting someone,” I said firmly, and then I walked away.

“Come on, beautiful, where are you going?” one of them shouted.

Without looking back, I knew they were following me. I could hear their footsteps behind me in the alley but forced myself not to turn around.

I could feel the panic rising in my throat as they followed me through the edge of the Fall Fest. I didn’t know how to make them leave me alone, and I didn’t want to get anyone else’s attention, because they might ask questions about me.

“C’mon, we’re really nice, just stop a second,” one of them said.

I whirled around.

“I told you no,” I said sharply. “Go away.”

They laughed. They were so close, and so much bigger than me, and they didn’t seem to comprehend how terrible they were acting.

“But we said we’d walk you,” the tallest one said. “And a gentleman never breaks his word.”

“Then be a gentleman and stop following me!” I insisted.

And then I started coughing. It was pretty bad, and I hadn’t been expecting it. The stupid kettle corn had been my worst idea ever.

When I caught my breath, the tallest one had taken a step back.

“Whoa, that sounds pretty serious,” he said.

“I have asthma,” I said defensively.

“Didn’t sound like asthma,” the blond one said, smiling like he enjoyed taunting me. “Sounded contagious. You’re not gonna give us the plague, are you, blondie?”

“Not if you leave me alone,” I said, whirling around.

But his hand shot out, and he grabbed my wrist. I twisted away, and my parka pulled back, revealing my med sensor and its blinking green light.

They all stared at it, and at me.

“Oh shit,” the blond one said. “She’s from that creepy hospital.”

“We could have fucking TB now,” his bearded friend said. “What the fuck?!”

“Wait, she said she was meeting someone. There’s more of them here,” the tall guy said.

My heart was hammering. I didn’t know what to do. If I went back to Lane, they’d follow me. And if I tried to get someone’s help, I’d be in an even bigger mess. I was Frankenstein’s monster. Typhoid Mary. The guy who kept sneezing really loudly on an airplane.

I stared at them in horror, and then I heard a boy’s voice.

“What the hell are you doing?”

It was Michael, with his work boots and tattoos, walking toward us. I’d never seen him look so angry, or so intimidating, as he frowned at the three drunken bros.

“I asked you a question,” he demanded.

“She’s one of those contagious kids from the TB place on the hill!” the blond guy said. “And there’s more of them here!”

I stared at Michael, pleading silently for him to vouch for me.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “This is my cousin.”

“Your cousin?” one of the guys asked, frowning.

“I’m Phillip’s little sister,” I lied.

They looked unsure.

“I’m fifteen,” I said, making my eyes wide and scared. That at least got through to them.

“Shit,” the bearded one muttered, believing me.

“Then what were you doing in a bar?” the tall one said.

Michael glared at me.

“I wasn’t in a bar, I was standing outside eating kettle corn, and they started harassing me,” I said.

“You’re drunk,” Michael told them, “and bothering underage girls. So you can stop lying about how and why that happened. Go home, sober up, and read Jezebel.”

Michael stalked off, and I followed him, gratefully.

“Thank you,” I said.

He whirled around, still upset.

“I didn’t do it for you, I did it for business,” he said.

“Yeah, okay.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” he said. “Those guys were about to turn this place upside down until they found your friends. You have to stop coming down here. You’re going to infect everyone!”

“We are not, we’re just sitting by the pumpkin patch,” I said.

The color drained from his face.

“My kid’s over there!” he said.

“You have a kid?” I asked.

“Yes, I have a kid,” Michael said angrily. “He’s two and a half, and if anything happens to him, I swear to God. If I see you in town again, I’ll turn you in myself. Now get your friends, and get the hell out of here.”

“Fine,” I said, stalking off. It wasn’t fair. Those beer-sloshing bros were the ones putting everyone in danger, not me. I wasn’t even doing anything. I wasn’t even near anyone. But I believed it then, what Amit had said about leaving Latham. There were people out there who panicked, and all it took was one to start a witch hunt.

Lane looked worried when I got back to the hay bales.

“That took a while,” he said. “Everything okay?”

I didn’t want Lane to freak out. He looked so hopeful, and so happy, that I couldn’t say anything and ruin our date. So I rolled my eyes and held up the kettle corn.

“The line took forever,” I said. “Everyone had the same idea. We should probably head back, though, since it’s getting late.”

“Yeah, of course.”

And then he followed me back toward the old hiking path. I dug into my purse for my flashlight and compass and handed him the kettle corn.

We ate it as we walked back, not caring that it made us cough. And when we came to the rock in the woods, which almost looked like the one from camp, I was much calmer.

Nothing bad had really happened. It was just some drunk guys deciding that my walking around and being female was an invitation for creepery. That sort of thing went on all the time. And to be fair, it wasn’t like they were still afraid of me after the doctors said my TB was inactive. I was a pale, sick-looking stranger with a bad cough—of course they were on their guard. But it was over now, nothing to worry about. And I wasn’t going to let it ruin my first real date with a boy. A cute boy, who’d bought me cider and held my hand and been a complete gentleman.

Lane stared at the rock, and so did I.

“I bet you’ll never guess what color my bra is,” I said.

“Probably not,” he said. “But I know one way to find out.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LANE

MY FIRST MONTH at Latham House came to a close, although it seemed wrong to measure time like that, to consider the start of my days at Latham to be something that didn’t have to do with Sadie Bennett.

I talked to my parents on the phone every few nights, and when they asked me how was I sleeping, and how was I feeling, and what had I been up to, I actually answered them. I figured I owed them some assurance that I wasn’t lying on my deathbed four hundred miles away, trying to keep up with my AP Euro packet. And the weird thing was, they were enthusiastic when I said I’d made friends in my French class and that we played cards and traded books, and they didn’t seem to mind when I said I’d put aside my schoolwork to focus on getting better.

The longer I was away, the more my specific annoyances with them faded. Sure, they’d always been strict, but I’d never given any indication that I wasn’t happy with the way things were. I’d wanted to be the best as much as they’d wanted it for me.