“What do you mean by ‘harassing’?”

“Pushing them, knocking their backpacks out of their hands, calling them names, starting rumors that aren’t true.” I could go on, but I don’t. He already knows that Dylan followed me from work with the express purpose of scaring me.

“Do you have any witnesses?”

“Sure. I can think of two off the top of my head.” I can count on Lila and Ryan to tell the truth. “Oh, and I asked Mr. Johannes to help once. He’ll confirm what he saw.”

“Then I’ll open an investigation. If the situation turns out to be as you’ve described, then we’ll deal with Mr. Smith accordingly.”

I have no idea what that means so I just nod. Maybe I can’t get Shane released, but I can make sure people know he had a reason for what he did. It’s better than nothing.

“You’ve put me in a delicate situation,” he says quietly.

“Because of what I know?” No point in pretending.

“Precisely. Can I count on your discretion?”

“If I was going to spread rumors, I’d have done it already. But Ms. Smith deserves better. Your wife and kids do, too.” I startle myself by being bold. Apparently, the new Sage speaks her mind and she doesn’t fear the shadows.

To my surprise, he flinches. He doesn’t acknowledge what I said, but he opens the door, looking like he’s got a heavy weight on his shoulders. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. Since I know, he must be wondering if other people do, too. And if so, how long before this explodes in his face?

“I can’t believe you pulled this shit,” Dylan snarls at me. “You couldn’t just admit that I beat you, huh? You had to go for round two. Well, guess what? I’m gonna—”

“Stop talking,” Principal Warick cuts in. “And get in my office. Right now.”

I get a pass from the secretary and head toward my next class, but before I get there, I hear the rapid click of high heels. Turning, I spot Ms. Smith coming toward me. She really is beautiful, tall and slim, with legs that go on forever in a black pencil skirt. She’s wearing a simple white blouse that looks more expensive than it is, because of her elegant frame. Her long blond hair is caught in a tortoiseshell clasp, and she hardly looks old enough to be Dylan’s mom. I understand all over again why he’s worried about his friends trying to sleep with her and I’m sad that he needs to be.

The world is so screwed up.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“You’re Sage, right?” Ms. Smith asks.

I nod, wondering what she wants.

“I saw your videos. Your boyfriend’s really good.” She fumbles, twisting her fingers together. “The secret … the one about me … is it what I think it is?”

Oh, shit.

“Probably,” I mumble. This is so awkward. I never wanted to hurt her. She seems like a sweet woman, if not the most discerning about men.

“And my son really did all those things to you? He followed you?” This is what’s bothering her, I guess, not that her secret affair might get out. I like her better for it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I never intended to say anything. I just wanted Dylan to leave us alone.”

“I know he can be protective of me, but I swear I had no idea.” Ms. Smith bites into her lower lip, looking even younger. I feel like buying her ice cream. It must be hell to be her son. “What can I do to make this right?”

My answer doesn’t require much thought. “You could drop the charges against Shane. Unless Dylan’s eighteen, he can’t pursue this without your backing. That would be a start.”

“You can guarantee that Shane won’t go after Dylan again? He shouldn’t have done any of this, but he’s my son, and I love him. I won’t see him hurt.”

“I promise. I’ll make sure Shane knows it’s a condition of the deal.” It’s not a legal solution, but if Ms. Smith drops the charges, Shane could come home, right? Excitement surges through me.

“All right,” she says, her shoulders drooping. “I’ll go down to the station tonight. Dylan won’t like it, but I’m in no mood to care.”

“Thank you,” I say. “Dylan’s lucky to have a mom like you.”

“He doesn’t think so.”

There’s not much I can say to that. So I give her a half smile. “Anyway … I should get going.” My pass has a time written on it, and while I suspect teachers will cut me some slack, given the drama I’ve created with my videos, I can’t push it too far.

“You seem like a nice girl. I’m sorry about all of this. Dylan should’ve known better than to dredge up the past. Lord knows I’ve made my share of mistakes.”

I’m curious if she counts Principal Warick among them, but I only wave and hurry down to the hall to my classroom. Everyone looks up when I slip in, but the teacher doesn’t pause. I’m grateful for that. Since it’s chemistry, I join Ryan at our table, where the experiment’s already underway.

“How did it go?” he asks.

“I’m not sure. But … I’m hopeful.”

Three days later, Dylan is suspended from school for a week … and the most astonishing part? Mr. Warick is seen at a local hotel because he’s apparently moved out of the family home. I feel bad for his wife and kids, but I guess it’s better to have a clean break. But I’m not sure if clean is ever the right word for a situation like his.

I pester Aunt Gabby daily for updates on Shane’s situation. And the day after Dylan returns to school, she comes home wearing a frown. My stomach clenches.

“What happened?”

“I talked to Shane’s lawyer. Since Ms. Smith has dropped the charges, his offense no longer goes on his permanent record, and he can be released from Ingram.”

“But that’s good news, right?” I don’t understand why she looks so sad.

“His dad still isn’t around, Sage. Since he’s not willing to assume custody, the state has to send him into foster care until he turns eighteen.”

“That’s only four months away,” I protest, remembering he told me his birthday’s in July.

“It doesn’t change anything. Four months or four days, right now he’s a minor, and he can’t live on his own.”

“He could get … what’s it called … emancipated. Can’t his lawyer help him with the papers?”

“I’ll check into it,” my aunt promises, “but legal petitions take time. It may end up being faster for him to wait until he ages out of the system.”

“What does that even mean?”

“When he turns eighteen, the state will no longer assume responsibility for his care.”

What the hell. This seems incredibly messed up. Now, he’s facing the one situation he wanted to avoid—having to deal with a strange family. After taking care of his mom and managing his own life, he’ll have to follow their rules. I hate that it’s worked out this way; it seems so unfair. He deserves better.

“Where is he?” I demand.

“He’s with a family two hours away.”

Two hours by car, roughly 120 miles. There’s just no way I can bike to see him. I’m still recovering from the trip I took to see his dad. I curl my hand into a fist, taking comfort in how my nails bite into my palms because I’m sad and angry at the same time. But for Shane? For a happy reunion? Okay. Maybe I can ask Aunt Gabby to drive me. I still don’t approve of gas-guzzling vehicles, but Shane’s worth an exception.

“Do you have his address?”

Aunt Gabby shakes her head. “The social worker wouldn’t tell me since I’m not family.”

“Did they give his phone back when they released him from juvie?”

“I imagine so.”

Then why hasn’t he called me? How long has he been out? But maybe his battery’s dead—he probably didn’t have a charger with him—or he might be out of minutes, since it was a prepaid phone. With some effort, I calm down. Honestly, I can’t wait to get to my room, so I can try texting him. If he doesn’t reply, it might not mean anything bad.

“Thanks,” I say quietly. “It means a lot to me that you’ve been calling around.”