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I look around in awe, like some medieval peasant walking into a lord’s house.

“Does Luca know?” Scarlet asks, wincing as she sits near the window, moving as though she’s still pregnant. Yet she looks strong like, soon, she’ll be completely over the aches and pains.

“No,” I whisper. “I wanted to tell him, but… Scarlet, I’m so sorry.”

Scarlet’s expression softens. “Ruby, there’s nothing to be sorry about. It was high school. It was a million years ago.”

“But I am sorry,” I say firmly, sitting opposite her. “I’ve got no excuse.”

Scarlet folds her hands, looking at me unflinchingly. We’re the same age, but she seems far older somehow. Maybe it’s the fact she’s a mother or married. She looks like a mafia queen, and I’m just the would-be princess. “Why don’t you explain what happened from your point of view?”

I nod. I owe her this much, at least. “I was invisible in high school. I guess you probably felt the same. So when that asshole jock pulled the stunt…” We both pause, thinking of when the most popular kid in school brought in pig ears. He glued them to Scarlet’s hair before she had a chance to react, then started oinking, and everybody laughed and clapped… and so did I.

“I was going through a phase of trying to be popular,” I go on. “I was sitting at the cool girls’ table, thinking I was so special.”

Tears threaten, but I push them away. It’s not my right to cry, not after what I did.

“When it happened, all the girls started clapping, and I just went along. Like an idiot. Like a sheep. I can’t believe I did it.”

Scarlet nods. “I didn’t see you at the popular girls’ table after that.”

“I felt sick with them,” I snap. “Absolutely disgusted. In fact…”

“Wait.” To my shock, Scarlet smiles. “I think I’ve guessed this next bit, Ruby. May I?”

“Uh, sure.”

“That semester, all the popular girls—who had somehow been doing extremely well in history—all got straight Fs in their biggest assignments, completely tanking their grades. My theory is you were helping them with their work, but then you decided to sabotage it.”

I can’t help but grin when she’s aiming such a beaming smile at me, but I quickly wipe it away. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because they’re bitches,” I snap. “The way they laughed and after, the way they fawned over that jock douche. It made me sick. I would rather have no friends than suck up to them.”

Scarlet beams. “That was my theory. I wanted to ask you about it, but high school…”

“It was hell, wasn’t it?”

“Yep. I don’t miss it one tiny bit. Is college better?”

I nod. “Much. There aren’t the same games. Nerds are actually respected. There’s a lot more independent work. Scarlet, I’m really sorry. I hate myself for it. It’s one of my worst memories.”

“Oh, Ruby.” Scarlet reaches over and takes my hand. “If this is one of your worst memories, you must be a pretty special person. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I was worried you might be. It’s all in the past.”

“Really?”

She squeezes my hand. “Something’s changed in Luca since you came along. Elio has noticed it. I’ve noticed it. We all have. There was a time when I’d thought it impossible for two people to fall for each other this quickly. After Elio and me…” Her smile widens. “I know anything’s possible. Don’t let some silly thing in the past spoil it. It’s all ancient history.”

“That’s the problem, though. All I think about is history.”

She laughs. “Not anymore.”

Luca’s mom, Alessia, laughs as she places her wine glass down. “And you sabotaged their grades?”

I risk a smile, though I still feel terrible about the whole thing. “It felt like the right thing to do. They were so cruel, but so was I.”

“She’s a keeper, Luca,” Elio says, grinning. “Ruby, if this is the worst thing you’ve ever done, you’re a saint, especially compared to my wife.”

Scarlet playfully digs her elbow into him, and he leans in and kisses her on the cheek.

“Really,” Luca says softly beside me. “Don’t beat yourself up. We all make mistakes.”

“I’m just glad it’s out in the open,” I tell them. “It’s seriously been eating at me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Luca.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he tells me.

For the rest of the dinner, we talk about my history work, the funny things Molly does, and the time Alessia got stranded at the mall and ended up running up a ten-thousand-dollar charge on her credit card. After saying goodbye, when Luca walks me down to the car to give me a ride home, he says, “You’re smiling. I take it that wasn’t as terrible as you imagined?”

I spin on him, throwing myself into a kiss. He catches, spins, and gently pushes me against the hallway wall. He groans in that husky, possessive way as I wrap my arms around him.

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