|photo by Vera De from Unsplash|

Paige comes to French again on Wednesday. But this time when she leaves the classroom, five minutes early, Mari Okada goes with her. All three of us have trig next period. So it's reasonable to assume Paige is planning to attend that class and Mari's taking on the role of bodyguard.

Which means I should skip.

A chill climbs my spine. I cannot be having thoughts like this. Not when my grade average is already questionable.

The bell rings. "I came here for the math," I say under my breath as I force myself to stand, to walk. Maybe my assumption is wrong. Maybe Mari walked Paige out of the building because she's having a panic attack.

No, Thea. No wishful thinking allowed. It's better to brace for the worst.

The good news is that Mari hates me. There's slim chance of her recruiting me to help shield Paige. And the horseshoe seating arrangement in that class could work in my favor. Paige will want to be close to the exit. I'll sit on the opposite side of the room.

I hesitate outside the door, half waiting for Chase, who normally struts in with the bell. But then I hear his voice. Apparently he's already inside?

The urge to skip is stronger now, harder to push down. I blow out a breath, silently chant my here-for-the-math mantra and walk though the door.

Paige is flanked by Mari and Chase. Which is fine. Good, even. He's her cousin. He should be supporting her.

He's turned sideways in his chair, facing Paige. She has her delicate hand wrapped around his wrist like it's a lifeline. Her eyes are twitching back and forth between Chase and scary Professor Bernard. Her anxiety is obvious, and it's absolutely genuine.

I can't believe I told Chase I thought she was faking. He must think I'm an ass. I know I do.

His eyes go squinty when they find mine—concern, not judgment. Thank God.

Paige must notice, because she turns around. "Thea," she says, like it's this huge relief to see me. "We saved you a spot." She points to the chair next to Chase. He takes the opportunity to break out of her grasp so he can move his book bag out of my way.

"Oh, um. I..." Now Mari's gaze is fixed on me. If she could shoot death lasers out of her eyes, I'd be a puddle of ooze on the sparkly green linoleum floor.

Professor Bernard chooses this moment to drop my graded math quiz on the table in front of the now-empty chair. So Chase, Paige and Mari see the giant red 65 scrawled across the top—which drops my trig grade to a solid C.

I have no choice. I have to sit beside Chase because my legs are wobbly.

We took this quiz on Monday, while I was strung out on the euphoria of Conner's good-morning kiss in our secret stairwell. And now I'm a million times more distracted.

The headmistress was right. I had a high grade point average at a substandard school. I'm not qualified to be at this one. My aunt bought or bribed my way in, effectively stealing a spot from someone more deserving.

Chase bumps my shoulder with his. "This is fixable," he whispers as he folds my quiz paper over on itself, hiding the big, ugly, embarrassing grade. Paige reaches across him and gives my forearm a supportive squeeze.

I nod for both of them, keeping my eyes on my lap so they don't see the lie.

Nothing about this is fixable.

* * *

I wait for Chase in front of the elevator Thursday morning. He greets me with questioning eyebrows and I get the feeling he wasn't expecting me to be dressed in Zachery plaid.

"Appearances can be deceiving," I tell him. "I've been dressed since 4:00 a.m. I didn't really sleep last night. And I've changed my mind about going to first period at least eight times."

He sighs and lopes over to push the down button. "I'm supposed to remind you that you have a very important English Lit test." He holds up his phone. "Conner is offering to skip the class if that's what it takes to get you there."

"Conner needs to learn how to take care of himself," I say.

"Yes, big heart, no brain. He and I are opposites."

Chase is keeping his tone light. He's trying so hard to help me and I don't deserve it one bit. "I'm sorry for yesterday. The thing I said about Paige was..."

"Don't worry about it," he says.

"I was hurt and confused, but I shouldn't have said it—and I hate the way I told you about the Tin Man."

He lifts a hand, flicking his wrist like he's swiping my apology away. "The heartless are notoriously hard to offend."

"I still don't think you're heartless—not entirely."

There's a good chance that Jasmine hooked-up with Chase for the same reason I kissed him on the beach. That doesn't excuse him for betraying his best friend, but who am I to judge?

The elevator pings, the shiny gold doors slide open. Chase steps in and presses the hold button. "You coming?"

I take a step forward and stop. Last night I asked my aunt about Paige and the Allemande. She clasped her manicured hands together in glee. "Jesminda and I were sworn to secrecy," she said. "But if you're hearing rumors at school, then Paige herself must be spreading them. That's a very good sign."

There's no doubt in my mind that Conner would—or will be her escort. Because I never followed through on my idea to make him mine.

"Thea," Chase says.

No, he admonishes. That was one of my SAT words.

"Get on the elevator, Dorothy."

I answer with a groan. As I step in beside him.

The sense of impending doom weighs on me. Or maybe it's lack of sleep, making my legs feel sluggish. Either way, the five-block walk to Zachery feels like a five-hundred mile uphill climb. Conner isn't waiting for me in the foyer. Or in the hallway outside our shared first period classroom. I know the reason—it's the thing I've been dreading, but have yet to put into words. Not even to Megan.

From the doorway, I watch Conner marvel over the miracle that is Paige, live and in-person in our shared English Lit class. She is surprisingly relaxed and happy. That is, until she sees me. Then her big, lion-gold eyes go all pitiful and pleading like one of those cartoon puppies.

The bell rings. I move methodically to the opposite side of the room. I am numb—heartless and brainless. I am a coward.

And I am going home.

* * *

Conner knocks on my door at 7:00 on Friday morning as promised. Actually, it was more like a threat. He said: If I don't get more from you than a one-word answer to my text messages, I'm coming over there tomorrow morning to break down your door.

I said: Okay.

When I open the door he hands me a bouquet of red flowers. Not roses. These are far more delicate: wispy stems and papery petals. "They don't have a smell," he says when I lift them to my nose. "They're poppies. Remember the part in the movie where Dorothy falls asleep in the field?"

Now is not the time to share the Oz-moment text I got from the Tin Man last night: The Wicked Witch gave you her pain pills to help you sleep. Did you know opioids are made from poppies?

"Like the field of poppies in the mural at Zachary," I say instead.

"Exactly."

I force a smile for him, but the movement dislodges the tears collecting in my eyes and Conner sighs. "I ordered them a month ago," he says. "It was supposed to be sweet and funny, but now..."

"They are sweet," I say. "And beautiful. Thank you."

He reaches out for me and I step back. "I had something planned for today." I head to the kitchen to find a vase. "I was going to cook for you but I..."

I haven't left the penthouse since yesterday. I came straight here after first period and have barely even left my room.

"I'm sorry, Thea."

"Don't apologize. Please." I open one cabinet. Then another. No vase. "Do you want a soda or something?" I ask him.

"I want you to tell me how to fix this. I don't want to lose you."

I spot a crystal wine decanter on the shelf behind the bar. But Conner is blocking my way out of the kitchen and I need to tell him my plans before he gets his arms around me. I need to tell him before I change my mind.

"Thea, please," he says, and his eyes are so sad I have to look away.

"You know it was never my intention to stay here, right? I came for the math. And now, I have a C-average in trig. How am I going to fix that with..." I lay the bundle of flowers on the counter, try to smooth out the wrinkles from where I closed my fist too tight around the tissue paper. "I don't know how Jasmine does it. I don't know if it's an act or if she's a saint. But I can assure that I won't be able to put my feelings aside. I know Paige has problems. But I can't pretend I don't know how much she's hurt you. I can't pretend to be her friend."

Conner sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. Now his eyes are avoiding mine.

"I know how horrible that sounds," I say.

He shakes his head but I don't believe him. Because it feels horrible. "I hate saying it out loud—especially to you—but I need you to understand. I can't stay at Zachary."

"You're dropping out?"

"I'm moving back to Virginia. Tomorrow."

He exhales a curse, takes a step back. "You can't just run away every time things..." He slams his fists on the counter. Then he slogs into the family room, hands pressed against his eyes.

"I can't stay here and be your secret girlfriend," I say, following him. "We need to let this go while it's still good. I need to leave before..."

Shit.

"Before what?" he asks.

"I can't stop thinking about the look on your face that morning Paige showed up at the pool."

"That was a very long time ago."

"It was there again yesterday morning. You still care about her, Conner. And you should be able to enjoy the fact that she's getting better. But you won't be able to because you'll be worried about me. So you'll try to hide your feelings—which you suck at—and you'll celebrate with Paige when I'm not around. And when the three of us are in class together it'll be awkward and just...wrong. And I can't do it. I don't even want to try."

"Okay," he says, reaching out to touch my hair. "If that's what you need then go home. It'll be hard but we can do this. Spring Break is in four weeks. I'll borrow my dad's car and—"

"No, Conner. I don't want a long distance relationship. And you..." I take a breath, press my fist against the pain in my chest. "Didn't you see the look on Paige's face when she found me in the gym that morning? She was jealous. I think all the crap about the prom was a test. And you know what? You still haven't asked me to go with you."

"That's because—"

I put my hand over his mouth and he narrows his eyes. "Think about it, Conner. How many times has she let you kiss her? You say you've given her a chance but have you really?" I don't uncover his mouth because I already know the answer. "No, you haven't. And maybe I didn't give Glenn the chance he deserves either, because I was being selfish. I didn't want to give you up."

He wraps his hand around mine and pulls it against his chest. His heart is pounding. "Things might've turned out different for me and Paige if you hadn't come here. And maybe...maybe you'd still be with Glenn. But that's not how it played out. We met. We fell in love. That means something."

"Right," I say. "So here we are in Oz—Dorothy and Scarecrow—but we can't be together because we don't want to destroy the Cowardly Lion. How's that for a Universal Nudge?"

He looks up at the ceiling, shakes his head.

"Dorothy is supposed to go home, Conner. She was always supposed to go home."

"Okay. Go home. We'll see what the future brings."

He puts his hand on my cheek and kisses me. When I don't resist, he moves his fingers into my hair and kisses me deeper. He sighs and there's a little moan that cuts right through me and I know we're both right here, right in a moment that says, "I want to breathe you in, climb inside you."

"I'll always choose you," Conner says against my lips.

And then he releases me and heads for the door and I just stand there watching him, mouth open, until the doorknob turns in his hand. "You're not going say goodbye?"

He lets go of the knob. Balls his hand into a fist and shakes his head.

"I thought..." I take a few steps toward him. "There's still time for us..."

Conner turns around. He's looks every bit as shocked as he did the day I told him my school was destroyed by a tornado.

"My aunt won't be home for a while," I say. "So. I thought we could..."

"You thought we'd have breakup sex—on Valentines Day? Is this is the scene where you tear out my insides and set them on fire?"

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Conner. And it doesn't have to be anything but you holding me. Just a little longer. Please. Can I be selfish one more time?"