I thought Eliza meant we needed to talk really soon. As in, after-I-took-a-bath-and-changed-into-clothes-that-smelled-like-me soon. But she didn't come back. I wasn't completely sure how long I waited, my mind wandering from topic to topic, but the quietness of the house told me that the person I was expecting wasn't here anymore.

I kept my promise and texted Tybalt, and he replied before I could look away from my phone.

I couldn't sleep that night. No matter how tight I shut my eyes and stopped thinking about everything bothering me, I just couldn't fall asleep. Something told me that I wasn't the only one in that state, that maybe a few streets away, West was also restless, staring up at his ceiling. The thought gave me a little peace, and at one point, I scrolled to his name on my contact list. My thumb hovered over it as I prepared to confirm my suspicion, but I chickened out at the last second and put my phone off. It was one thirty in the morning then.

I consoled myself with the fact that I'd see him in less than eight hours, and finally convinced myself to get some sleep. Only yesterday, I was ignoring him, and today, I couldn't wait to "accidentally" bump into him at school.

My emotions were all over the place, and I could hardly concentrate in my first two classes. It was weird how West always seemed to disappear when I needed him.

I was standing in front of my open locker after second period, one eye on my phone, and the other on the books I was arranging, when a girl ran from the direction of the principal's office and literally slammed into her friend. I wasn't planning on listening to whatever she had to say—anything that made a female Rigderock student run that fast couldn't be more than gossip—but when the first words she produced reached my ears, I paused.

"Someone finally spoke up!" she said, out of breath.

I turned to them just in time to see her friend's eyebrows raise in confusion, her hands still tightly wrapped around her arms to keep her up. "What?"

"Smooches," the girl responded, triggering my panic. "Someone finally reported it to the police."

It was like a play button was suddenly pushed, because a good number of students moved to her at the sound of that, circling around her and asking questions. Some asked how she knew, some said she was joking.

"My sister overheard them in the principal's office and sent me a text." She pulled out her phone and proceeded to show them the text as proof. She didn't know that she didn't need proof when talking about Smooches and the cops. They'd believe her either way.

I subconsciously pressed my palm into the edge of one of my hardback textbooks as I stared unblinking at them. It was over. It was all over. Everything I'd been planning for months was tumbling to the floor, and I stood in the rubble, clueless about what to do.

For a while, I just remained where I was, watching the other students, but I eventually looked away when I realized that my breathing was a little unsteady.

I knew that the bell was going to ring soon, and that I was having a class next, but I couldn't remember what class to save my life. My eyes moved back to the students now slowly moving away from the human circle they'd created as they pulled their phones out of their pockets and backpacks, ready to share the news until people at neighboring schools knew about it.

The murmuring was loud, but that didn't stop me from noticing a black hoodie down the hallway. The guy putting it on looked like West from behind, but on closer look, I saw that he was considerably leaner and looked much less intimidating.

Then it hit me; I suddenly knew what to do.

My hands felt like overcooked noodles as I scrolled to his name in my messaging history and tapped on it, and it took all my self-control to keep the phone in my hand.

Where are you? I typed, hitting the send icon before I could check that I spelled the words correctly. My brain had turned to mush.

I had to lean against my locker for support as I waited for his reply, but my left foot kept tapping impatiently. The bell rang, telling me to get my sorry butt to a class I couldn't remember, and I felt my eyes sting as they focused on my dimming screen.

The hallway started to empty, and I heard someone shout, "After class," as they rushed past me, but I only cared about getting a reply from the guy on the other side of the phone. The text had been marked as seen already.

If I was in the right state of mind, I would've probably laughed. At myself. Because I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. Kimie Sato didn't depend on the assuring words of a guy, she did things on her own without asking for help. But I found myself in a position where I thought—no, believed —that only West could make this better. Only him could say the right things and know what to do to send my panic away.

My phone finally vibrated as his reply popped onto my screen, lighting it up again, and I barely realized that I was alone in the hallway as I read the three words he'd sent.

Class. Need sth?

I was glad he asked, because it reduced the amount of words I had to type to convince him to come to me.

I need you. Janitor's closet now!

I heard a teacher yelling at me down the hallway, asking why I wasn't in class, but it sounded more like background noise than something I should've actually found important, so I slammed my locker shut and rushed to the meeting spot.

I was sitting on an upturned blue bucket, wringing my fingers impatiently, when West walked in. Immediately he did, I released a sigh, suddenly feeling hundred times lighter, and stood.

On an impulse, I wrapped my arms around him and held him closer than I'd ever held anyone. My face was buried in his shirt, and the smell of his cologne soothed me. He didn't return the hug, probably surprised, and I felt a muscle in his arm tense as he moved further into the room, before realizing that he was trying to close the door properly and I wasn't making the task any easier.

I still didn't let go of him, and he finally placed his hands around me, one in my hair, and the other on the small of my back, canceling the remaining inches between us. He held me like that for a while before whispering, "What's wrong?"

"Someone told the police about Smooches," I forced out, not as hesitant as I thought I'd be, and his arms tensed around me immediately.

A few seconds passed in silence, then his hands were around my arms, gently detaching me from him against my will. I ran a thumb beneath my eyes to stop the tears from moving down any further, noticing the surprising color of the shirt my face had been pressed into for the last few minutes—white.

He chose today, of all days, to wear the color white.

"When did you hear about this?" he asked, not letting go of me just yet.

"Before the bell rang. Someone said it in the hallway."

He regarded me in silence for a few seconds, my words sinking in. Then he mumbled, "Shoot."

"That's a huge understatement."

I waited for him to say something, just like I did last night, but as expected, nothing came. And it sent a new wave of panic coursing through me. West didn't know what to do, so what was I supposed to do?

"Say something!" I urged, and he let go of my arms, looking defeated.

"I don't know, Kim. I'm just as confused as you are." He massaged the bridge of his nose as he thought about something, and I suddenly remembered something.

I thought about how to bring it up without getting the same reaction I got from him, and, combined with the silence of the hallway, it was like we weren't even here.

"What about Jett?"

His eyes snapped to mine so fast, I couldn't actually believe they didn't pop out. I instantly knew that I had him where I wanted. "What about him?"

"Don't you want your revenge anymore?"

"It's stupid, Kimie. Jett is a monster and I've thought about it. Nothing is going to affect him."

"Jail would."

West studied me for a while, and I could see that he was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "What are you talking about?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat, the latter suddenly feeling dry and scratchy, gathering as much courage as I needed to say what I was about to. "I have something on him."

I saw the shock on his face before he stepped closer to me and wiped it off completely. "What did you do?" His tone was accusatory, implying things greater than I knew I was capable of.

"Nothing."

"Kimie."

"I'm not lying to you. I didn't do anything, I promise."

"Then what do you have in him?"

My throat closed up then, blocking the words. I was aware that once it was out there, I wouldn't be able to take it back, and one look in West's eyes told me that I could tell him anything, but I was still hesitant. He closed the distance between us, then used a finger to lift my chin so that I could look nowhere but at his face.

He was a wizard. A pro wizard. And the worst part was that he knew the power he possessed; he knew how to use it.

"What's going on, Kim?" he asked, and his voice came out so soft that it brought me incredibly close to cracking open.

I managed to close my eyes as I said it, not wanting to see the look on his face when he heard it for the first time. "He raped my sister, West." It was nothing louder than a whisper, but the effect it had was great. "Kairi opened up to me the day Macy attacked me. We saw him at Punch a few days before that and she just sort of freaked out."

I opened my eyes. At first he looked like he couldn't believe the words that came out of my mouth, but then he blinked and said, "That's why you're doing this, isn't it?"

I wasn't sure I could speak anymore, so I just nodded in response.

His arms were around me again, and I melted into him, everything suddenly feeling real. The rumors, the outcome, the eye-for-an-eye moments.

I'd heard somewhere that an eye for an eye would only make the world blind, and, honestly, blindness could solve a lot of problems. If Jett suddenly turned blind, he wouldn't be able to assault another girl, no matter how hard he tried, and neither would the other guys.

It still disgusted me when I thought about it. Four guys intercepting my sister and doing one of the worst things they could ever do to a person. They didn't just force her, they also hit her in ways a woman should never be hit. Now my sister didn't feel comfortable going out, and nothing she wore made her feel covered.

"I should just die," she'd screamed one night after she got back from the hospital. "Everything in this freaking closet is too short! They'll all see my ugly, dirty body, Dad. I'm disgusting, I'm so freaking disgusting!"

"It's okay."

I wasn't crying, but my breathing was shaky and my shoulders were trembling, and West's voice in my ear was all I needed to recognize that thing growing inside me.

The only word I could accompany with it was hatred. Pure, undescribable hatred.

Sometimes, I compared what happened to my sister to a fire.

Fires start suddenly, sometimes because of an accident, most times because of mistakes that could've been easily avoided.

Piper Marcelli was the one who lit the match, thinking it was harmless when she told Macy she'd noticed that Kairi was always staring at her "boyfriend." Milan Harvard added gasoline by urging Macy to take charge—or some other useless advice like that—of her relationship. Axel Denvers watched the fire spread, watched my sister scream in pain as she burned, even though he was with an extinguisher. Dray Fox was there, ready to dispose of her ashes.

I didn't know where Jett and the other hormone-controlled idiots stood in the fire. All I knew was that it was a domino effect, and the dominoes kept falling and urging their friends to do the same, until my sister was the first female harasser at Ridgerock High. Allegedly, of course, until that video of her drunk and all over Axel, that stupid video with the disgusting caption, went out.

I felt a breeze in my face, suddenly remembering where I was—sitting on the hood of West's car outside Foodie. It was definitely the wrong place to think about my sister's fall from grace.

West had been gone for a while, allowing my mind to wander into territories I'd barricaded a long time ago. As if he knew how much I wanted him to return, he finally came out of the building with a takeout pack of salted chips and a milkshake.

The color of his shirt surprised me again. I was used to seeing him in black and gray and deep shades of blue and red, not in bright colors, much less a pure one like white. He looked really good in it, though. Literally. Today, he looked like the good person I knew he was. Not the vandal who didn't want to stop vandalizing.

"You know, you have a serious staring problem," he commented as he moved closer. "And the worst part is that you think no one notices."

I gave him the tiniest of smiles. "How many people have noticed? I'll kiss you if you give me three names." Surprisingly, I wasn't as red-faced as I thought I'd be.

West laughed, stopping in front of me and placing the pack of chips in my lap. His fingers brushed against my pants, but he quickly drew them away so he could keep the milkshake on the hood, next to me. Another red flag I'd noticed that day. He was trying not to come too close to me, and he was trying hard.

He didn't want me to notice, but I did.

Surprisingly, he placed his hands on either side of me. "That's a little tempting."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "A little?"

"Mhm."

"You're joking, right?"

"I promise I'm not."

I tilted my head up so I was looking directly into his eyes, trying to spot the lie, but, as always, his eyes told the truth. On the surface, it wasn't a big deal for him to have just a little interest in me at the moment, but I didn't feel good about it. This was the closest he'd been to me since that morning.

I decided to check something by making a move, wanting to prove myself wrong, so I placed a hand on the side of his face and rubbed my thumb against his cheek. The amused look on his face slowly disappeared, but he didn't stop me or say anything.

I think there were a lot of emotions leftover from last night, because I didn't care that we were outside a fast food place when I gently lowered his face to mine.

My breathing was shaky before he even got close enough to make my blood boil in a good way, and I felt his hand inch closer to me. Our lips were just seconds away from touching when he suddenly hesitated, and before I knew it, he was pulling away from me and letting my hand fall.

At first, I was confused, then the feeling really sunk in, and it was like I'd just walked into a pole.

West stepped away from me, taking his hands off the hood and leaning against the car, next to my legs. He folded his arms over his chest, and I just watched him quietly, drawing in breaths that were starting to suffocate me.

I was right. He was trying to stay away from me, avoiding physical contact. I really wished I didn't notice, but it was hard not to when he was all I could think about last night.

"You promised you're gonna talk to me today," I reminded him like it wasn't his promise, breaking the thick silence between us, and his shoulders slumped, but not with relief.

"Why is it so hard for you to just forget what I say?" was his response. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, refusing to look at me. "I didn't mean it, okay? It was the only way I could get you to let me go."

Words so simple had never hurt me like that before.

"So you don't want to talk about it?" I looked down at the pack of chips in my lap before he could reply.

"I don't."

"At least look at me when you say it."

He turned to me, causing my breath to catch in my throat, then hesitated again, not sure about something. But he didn't turn away this time. "Just ask the question, Kim. You wanna know if I'm mad about the date, don't you?"

I could only blink at him, surprised at how straightforward he was being today. I knew that the answer to that question was going to be yes, but I wanted to hear it from him.

"Well," he continued when I remained silent, "I'm mad you were stupid enough to drink alcohol, and I'm mad you almost let yourself get hurt. I don't care about who you choose to go out with. By the way, you have better things to worry about right now."

"I'm trying to make things right, okay?" Frustration seeped into my tone then, and my body went stiff because of all the pent up emotions.

"If I didn't get those photos, do you think I would've found out?" he snapped, giving me a few seconds to produce an answer if I wanted. I kept my mouth shut. "Even if I didn't get them, would you have told me?"

I still didn't respond to him, gazing into his bewitching eyes. A part of me couldn't quite believe it was him saying those words to me with so much anger. I still found it odd when he was mad at me.

"Why do you care about what I think, then?" He went back to his earlier position, and I stared at his profile, my chest tightening with emotions I didn't know I could feel.

I watched him watch a few cars drive past, then let out a sigh when I realized how much had changed since last night. Just because of one date and someone who couldn't mind their own business.

I was angry all of a sudden. Angry that all of this was happening to me. Angry that the police knew about Smooches. Angry about what happened to Piper and Dion and Axel. Angry that West was angry.

"I think I need to go home." I got down from the hood, then took the milkshake. "Thanks for . . ." I trailed off, gesturing to what I was holding, trying to be courageous by looking into his eyes.

Then I waited for his reply.

"No problem. I'll take you back to your car."

I nodded in agreement. "Sure."

By the time he dropped me off at the parking lot close to school so I could go home with my car, it was already getting late. Kairi sent me about five texts, all of them variations of why aren't you home yet? I was driving, so I couldn't reply to them, even though I wanted to for a change.

When I got to my house, I noticed someone odd sitting on the porch stairs. She looked like she'd been there for a while, and I remained in my car, parked on the driveway, staring at her through the windshield, trying to come up with one reason why she was at my house.

Before I could think of something sensible, Gianni looked up, then pulled one earphone bud out of her ear. With the look she gave me after our eyes locked, I knew that she was silently telling me to get out of the car.