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Just a few days ago we’d been working on the statue together and joking about the latest Charlie’s Angels reboot. Why didn’t time have a rewind button? What I wouldn’t give to be back in that shop class again, the welding torch flaring, and hearing Mason’s amused laughter as I did my best super spy pose.

“What do you want, Trina?”

Mason had spotted me and was standing with his hands curled into fists at his sides. I had echoes in my head of the first time we’d spoken at the hospital, after Charley’s dare to go up to him. Had we returned full circle to being strangers again?

“I’m so sorry for all of this.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. I pressed the palms of my hands against my stomach, fighting against the nauseating sensation that had sprung up. “I really didn’t mean to spill your secret to the whole world.”

“Well, you did.” He leaned against the white-washed cement block wall, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “You know, if you didn’t want to be with me, you could’ve just said so. You didn’t have to drop a bomb like that.”

I flinched. He was trying to be all casual, but I could hear the pain in his voice. That was me. I’d done that to him.

“Mason, I’m sorry.”

“I thought that kiss meant something.” He rolled his head to look at me, his eyes flashing. “And maybe I’m an idiot, but I thought you felt the same way.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How could I tell him that in that moment, our kiss had meant everything to me? But with all the stuff standing between us, it could never happen again.

I’d promised my parents that I would ace this class. It was the only way I’d get to go to art camp this summer. To pursue my passion for a change. It was my last chance before I spent the next decade in school and residency.

And when I’d taken Mason on as my study subject for my project, I’d essentially pledged an oath not to get involved with him. Maybe another kid could’ve shrugged that off and lied to the panel of judges, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t in my nature.

Finally, there was the issue of Polly. Beautiful, perfect Polly who’d been in his life for far longer than me. She knew what it was like to battle cancer. She could relate to him in a way that I never could.

“Mason, I just want you to be happy.” I grasped the front of my blouse and grimaced. “That’s all I want.”

He snorted and pushed off the wall. “I am happy. I’m ecstatic.”

His sarcastic tone stung. And as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, a rumble of footsteps inside the cafeteria was a warning sign that we were about to get some more company. Mason slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and began to walk away backwards, sending me one last pained expression.

“Don’t worry about me, Frye. I’ll be just fine. But maybe you should think about focusing on your own happiness, for once.”

The image of him walking away hurt more than I could’ve ever prepared myself for. The nausea in my belly flared up, threatening to evacuate that chocolate chip cookie.

So much for a happy ending.

Chapter Nineteen

Mom pulled her suburban up along the sidewalk and rolled to a stop. I looked out at the masses of students walking across the lawn toward Rock Valley High’s doors as Tuesday morning classes began. It was the first time in my seventeen years of life that I could ever remember dreading going to school. Normally, I was chomping at the bit to get out there. Today my behind was glued to Mom’s leather seats.

“Darling, I love your enthusiasm, but did you really need a poster this massive for your presentation?” Mom turned in her seat to gaze at the trifold poster board I’d stashed in the back of her suburban.

My little Chevy had been too puny to haul this thing around. On it was my Research Methods project. The presentation was three days away and I had yet to input the final data. What was I supposed to say? That I’d caused my research subject unnecessary harm and embarrassment? That in fact, a relationship of any sort with Trina Frye was the opposite of happiness? I couldn’t bring myself to finish it.

“Sorry, Mom,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. “You know me. Overachiever.”

She grinned and softly pinched my arm. “Yes, and I adore that about you. It’s what’s going to make you succeed in medical school.”

I stifled a sigh and slid out of the car. It was getting harder and harder to smile at my parents’ talk about the future. With everything going wrong lately, I wasn’t sure if I could count on the plan anymore. What if I didn’t even get into medical school? What if I wasn’t good enough? Would my parents still love me even if I wasn’t the uber over-achiever they thought they knew?

All of these questions terrified me.

I lugged the poster board out of the back and waved goodbye to my mom as she set off to the hospital for an early morning laparoscopic cholecystectomy. She was always in a wonderful mood on days like today. Surgery kept her sane. I liked to think that it was sort of her version of art and the scalpel was the brush.

Mandy and Audrey had managed to find alternative forms of transportation for today, but I could’ve used their help lugging my giant poster across campus. A slight breeze battled me for control over the heavy cardboard. I held it as tight as I could in my arms and prayed that I didn’t run anyone over.

I should’ve known my luck would run out. It was that kind of week. But as I collided with something on the sidewalk, I heard an ear-splitting shriek.

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