Okay. Not a question, but an accusation.

One I deserve. “I know.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to talk about my dad.”

He keeps looking at those damn needles. A few years ago, I told Isaiah the same lie I gave everyone else regarding my father. Isaiah was so moved that he told me something he’d never told anyone else: that his mother had no idea who his father was. The lie I told Isaiah bonded him to me for life. By the time I

figured out what cemented our relationship, that he believed we both had huge question marks on the paternal side, it was too late to tell him the truth.

“You know how people are.” I hate the

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and if there’s a story, they’ll dig, and I never wanted to think about the bastard again.

When I told you I never knew who my father was, I had no idea that was your reality. I didn’t know that was the story that would make us friends.”

His eyes shut at the word friends and his jaw jumps as if I said something to hurt him. But we are friends. He’s my best friend. My only friend.

“Isaiah…” I have to give him something.

Something that will let him know what he

means to me. “What happened with my dad…”

It hurts to breathe. “When I was in third grade…” Say it already!

Isaiah’s gray eyes meet mine. The kindness in them fades as they turn a little wild. “Is your dad around?” In the predatory movement of a panther, he takes several steps toward me. “Are you in danger?”

I shake my head. “No. He’s gone. Uncle

Scott and Dad hated each other. Scott didn’t even know Dad left.”

“Your uncle?”

“He’s a dick, but he’d never lay a hand on me. I swear.”

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He blinks and the wildness fades, but his muscles still ripple with anger. “I trusted you.”

His three simple words gut me.

“I know.” I can give him honesty now. “I

wish I could go with you.”

“Then do it.”

“She’s my mom. I expected you to

understand.” It’s a low blow. I stay silent, unmoving, waiting for him to swallow his

demons.

“I get it,” he says in a hard voice, “but it doesn’t mean I agree.”

Good. He’s forgiven me. Guilt still eats at me, but at least my stomach muscles relax while the guilt feasts.

“Nice shirt,” he says, and I smile at his playful tone.

“Fuck you.”

“There’s my girl. I was wondering if they sucked out your personality in first period.”

“You’re not far off.” Time is running short.

I’ve lost so much already. I can’t lose him.

“What do we do?”

“What are your uncle’s terms?”

“No running away and no more seeing you

or Noah.” Scott said he wanted me to

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completely forget my old life. That the only way I’d have a fresh start was to make a clean break and if I wouldn’t willingly amputate the past, then he’d do it for me.

Isaiah grimaces. “And?”

“No ditching school. No being disrespectful to his wife or teachers or people.”

“You’re screwed.”

“Fuck you again.”

“Love you too, Sunshine.”

I ignore him. “Good grades. No smoking.

No drugs. No drinking. And…no contact with Mom.”

“Hmm. I agree with the last one. Can you

make it happen this time?”

I glare at him. He flips me off. God, he’s aggravating. “No more cursing. Keep curfew.”

His head pops up. “He’s letting you out?”

“Probably with a GPS stitched under my

forehead. I have to clear every second of every outing through him. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you’re a bright girl who could manipulate the devil for a passage out of hell.

You get out of that house and I’ll come get you. Any day. Any time. And I’ll have you safely home by curfew.”

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Hope fills me, yet it’s not enough. I need more than Isaiah. I need something else. I fiddle with the ends of my shirttail. “Will you take me to see my mom?”

He sighs. “No. She’s no good for you.”

“He’ll kill her.”

“Let him. She made her choices.”

I stumble back as if he punched me. “How

can you say that?”

The anger returns to his eyes. “How? A few months ago, she let you bleed in front of her.

How could she go back to that bastard? How could she let you take the fall for her? Don’t play the sympathy card on me. No one fucks with you. Do you understand me?”

I nod to placate him, but I’ll find another way. Isaiah’s right. I can play Scott, keep Isaiah, and find a way to take care of Mom.

He pulls something out of his back pocket and tosses it to me. I slide open a shiny new gray cell phone. “We saw Scott trash your cell so I bought a new one for you and put you on my plan.”

I quirk up a smile. “You got a plan?”

He shrugs. “Noah and I got a plan and we

put you on it. Cheaper that way.”

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“How…” Echo inspired. “Grown-up.”

“Yeah. Noah’s been doing a lot of that.”

“How did you know? That I’d be here? In

Groveton? At school?”

Isaiah focuses on the trees. “Echo. At the police station, she sat close enough to your uncle and your mom to overhear what was

going down. Then Echo talked Shirley into giving us the rest of the information. Scott told Shirley his plans.”

“Great,” I mumble. “I’m in debt to psycho bitch.” The moment I say it, I feel a twinge of remorse. She’s not entirely crazy, but the truth is our relationship is strained. She’s sweet and she’s nice and she makes Noah happy, but

she’s brought change…too much change…and

how can I like that?

He shifts from one side to another. That’s not good. “What else, Isaiah?”

“Echo sold a painting.”

I raise my eyebrows. “So?” Echo’s been

selling her paintings since last spring.

He reaches into his back pocket again and produces a wad of cash. Holy Mother of God, I’m going to start painting. “It was one of her favorites. Something she painted for her

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brother before he died. Noah was ticked

when he found out.” He holds out the money.

“She did it for you.”

Pissed. I’m beyond pissed. “I don’t want her charity.” She didn’t do it for me. She did it for Noah and Isaiah, but she mainly did it so I’d have to owe her and she knows that pride is one of the few things I rightfully own.

Isaiah closes the distance between us and shoves the bills in my back pocket before I have a chance to step away. “Take it. I want to know you have cash in case you need to bail quickly. It’s my debt to pay.”

The wad of cash feels heavy in my back

pocket. Even though I’m determined to see this year out, I also know that life sucks. It’s best to be prepared.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. “I gotta go.”

As I walk past him, Isaiah wraps a hand

around my arm. “One more thing.” His eyes darken into shadows. “Call me. Anytime. I swear to you, I’ll answer.”

“I know.” It takes a second to work up the courage to say it, but he’s my best friend and worth the words. “Thank you.”

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“Anything for you.” Isaiah releases me,

and as I walk back to school my fingers trace the area where my skin still burns from his touch. He’s my friend…my only friend.

I pull on the handle of the same door I’d snuck out of and my heart sinks as the door stays shut. No. I broke the cardinal rule of ditching: always make sure you can sneak back in. I wiggle the handle. Nothing. I wiggle the other door’s handle. Same result. The dread sparks deep in my stomach and becomes a

flash fire of panic in a heartbeat. I can’t get back in, which means I’ll be busted when I don’t show for next period. When Scott finds out, he’ll burst a blood vessel.