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"How can he keep someone from talking?" Regardless of whatever influence Parker has over people, I strongly doubt his weak threats of denied access to a party or social suicide would keep mouths shut.

"I don't think he can," Joey answers simply. "But what can they say other than a girl fell? No one knows, not even the people working there, that he's one of the organizers. And only you and Vic know the truth. They'll have to change locations just in case, but I don't think Parker has anything to worry about. Neither do you."

"Nothing to worry about," I tell myself. Is that true?

Allie's alive. That's a good thing. And she's the only other person who knows what really happened.

Chapter Nine

"But he told me he loved me." My mother's words come out muffled with her face buried in the pillow.

I stand by the door, peeking in. I'm supposed to be in bed, but my mom's crying woke me up.

"And why would you believe him?" my grandmother asks, scowling down at her daughter with her arms crossed. "How many times do I have to tell you, those words are the most poisonous lies ever spewed from a man's mouth?"

"Want to sit on the green with me while we wait for them?" Joey asks, taking my hand and kissing my palm.

I smile gently. "Sure." I watch him get out of the Jeep. Maybe this day doesn't have to be a total nightmare.

Joey meets me at the back of the Jeep. His sweatshirt hangs low on me, creating the illusion that it's the only thing I'm wearing. He fights to hide a grin when he sees me. If he says something stupid like, I like you in my clothes, I'm going to throw it at him and get back in the Jeep. Wearing a guy's clothes has this weird effect on them, like it's some twisted sign of ownership. And I'm not a possession. Joey offers me his hand instead. I accept it, relieved he keeps whatever comment I saw flash across his face to himself.

We pass between a line of small evergreen trees that separate the delivery area from the golf course and carefully tread down a steep embankment until we're on the finely groomed golf course. Joey leads us to a circular area where the grass is even shorter before letting go of my hand to sit with his legs stretched out in front of him.

I untie my wedges and sink my feet into the lush, cool grass. Sitting down next to him, I pull my knees up to my chest and stretch the sweatshirt over them.

"Are you cold?" Joey asks, wrapping an arm around me and tucking me against his side.

"No, I'm good." I lean into him, resting my head on his chest.

It's so quiet here, it's almost unsettling.

"What colleges are you considering?"

The question seems so out of nowhere. I lean back to look up at him. "What?"

"When we were in the car, Nina said you were going to college. Where are you looking?"

"She was holding a gun to Vic's head, and you remember that?" I ask, laughing.

Joey shrugs with a lopsided grin. I laugh again.

"I have no idea why she said that," I tell him. "My guidance counselor keeps sending me home with brochures. But I haven't really thought about it."

"Why not?"

"Why should I? Having a college degree doesn't mean I won't end up working at a coffee shop when I graduate, except I'll have a shitload of student loans to pay off on top of it."

"Don't you have dreams of becoming something ... more?" He studies me intently, waiting. I don't know what makes me more uncomfortable, the question or that he's honestly interested in my answer.

"More than what? College won't change who I am," I say, shifting my focus away from his scrutinizing gaze and leaning back against his side. "I'm not sure what the point is ... wanting more from life than I've already been given. Money doesn't make you happy. I can't see how working eighty hours a week will either."

"Then what will ... make you happy?"

"What's with these questions?" I counter evasively, sitting up straight so that his arm falls away.

"Hey," he soothes, scooting closer and setting his hand on my waist, "I'm just trying to get to know more about you."

"Why?"

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