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I pull at his sweater. “No,” I say. “What’s a little rain?” As soon as I say it, another wave of rain dumps over us, stronger and cold. And yet, I say, “I don’t want to leave.”

This time, when Theo smiles, it’s more heated than warm, and it feels like dozens of flowers are blooming in my chest. “Okay, then let’s move everything under the tent.”

I hop up and help him shove everything on the wall of the tent, including our chairs, pushed up together to avoid the rain that still inches into the tent. We huddle into our chairs, and I tuck my feet under me.

“I can’t believe,” Theo says, “out of everything I packed, I forgot an umbrella.”

“Thank God,” I say. “I can’t deal with you being too perfect. Being forgetful is a great trait to have.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, looking at the rain piercing the lake.

“Hey, Theo,” I say quietly, bringing his attention back to me. When he raises his brows, I add, “Thank you.”

“For this?” he says. “It was nothing.”

“No,” I go on. “For this, yes, but for before, and for everything else.”

He reaches over, like he means to touch me, then pulls his hand back to his lap. “Anytime, Violet.”

The sound of my name, the way he says it so softly, as if any louder the word will break, makes my heart swell. I unfold my blanket, then reach over and cover him with it so we are both warm.

When I do, he watches me like he’s waiting for something. I give him more blanket, shift so our arms are pressed against each other, a sign to say, I’m okay with this.

His arm moves, wraps around me so he pulls me closer, and I tuck myself into him, wrap my arm around his waist. For the next few hours, he strokes his fingers along my arm, and I listen to his heart beat, faster and faster as we talk, against my ear.

CHAPTER 17

Character Statements

Statement from teammate (Neil):

“Theo Hudson is basically the least vandalistic person. He doesn’t even own a pen, I’m pretty sure. Tell me, have you ever seen the guy hold a pencil? Yeah, that’s what I thought. He wouldn’t have the supplies, but anyway, he’s too good. He’d feel too guilty about it. Swear I caught him picking up spiders and freeing them before any of the team stepped on him. You want me to believe that guy committed a crime? Yeah, right.”

Since I spent so much time with Theo last night, I dedicated the weekend to studying. Though I have so much anxiety stirring within me for the wasted time, as soon as I sit in the living room and open my notes, the tension eases, oozing out of me.

To my surprise, the math isn’t too hard to figure out. Most of it is because of the formula Theo taught me, and this trick he learned on two different ways to solve a problem. The numbers aren’t jumbling around in my head as I solve the practice problems, and the headache behind my eyes is so slight that I barely notice it.

A couple of hours have gone by when my dad calls me.

“My little flower,” he says when I answer.

“Hello, Fernando; how can I be of service?”

“I get out of work in an hour, and I’m thinking about stopping by Pan De Sina,” he says, referring to my favorite bakery. “You want some rellenos?”

I open my mouth to say yes, because it’s my favorite food on the planet. Not rellenos, but specifically rellenos from Pan De Sina. But I’ve been trying not to let Dad spend any money on me.

“I just made a sandwich,” I say, denying myself one of my greatest joys in life, “but thanks anyway.”

“Estás enferma?” he asks. “When have you ever not wanted rellenos?”

“I’m not sick.” I’m budgeting. “I have to get back to studying now, adios.”

When I hang up, I realize there isn’t something in my stomach. Theo’s voice echoes in my head. This isn’t healthy. He wasn’t entirely wrong, since after a good night’s rest and feeding, I have been working more easily. Could be just a placebo, but I go to the kitchen and make myself a peanut butter and jelly anyway.

I eat it on the couch with some boxing match my dad was streaming playing in the background. The fullness of my stomach, the cushion of the couch, and the sound of the fight’s commentary lulls me into sleep.

When I wake, it’s to the sounds of pots and pans banging against one another. I move, stretching, waking Vivi, who slept beside me. There’s a smell of something warm and a little spicy wafting over from the kitchen.