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“And then I hit him!” I say quickly, to make her laugh. “You must be so disappointed in me. Chivalry is truly dead.”
She grins, clearly relieved I’m not going to interrogate her. “I am disappointed.”
“I’m funnier than Greg,” I say. It’s easy to talk to her today, knowing I didn’t kill the last girl I was in love with. I had no idea how heavy a burden that was until I set it down.
“But he likes me better than you ever did,” she says.
“He must like you a whole lot, then.” I look into her eyes as I say it, and am rewarded by the blotchy blush spreading across her cheeks.
She punches me in the arm. “Oooh. You are funny.”
“Does that mean you’re not quite over me?”
She leans back and stretches. “I’m not sure. Are you coming back to school?”
I nod. “I’ll be back.”
“Tick tock,” she says. “I might forget all about you.”
I grin. “Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones.”
“You’ve got a good memory,” she says, but her gaze is focused somewhere behind me.
“Did I mention that I was smarter than Greg too?” When she doesn’t react, I turn to see what she’s staring at.
Lila is heading across the quad toward us in a long skirt and a sweater that she obviously talked someone out of. She cut off so much of her hair that it’s shorter than mine: a pale silvery cap on her head. She’s still wearing my boots, and her lips are shining with pink gloss. For a moment I don’t breathe.
“Big difference,” Audrey says.
Lila’s smile widens. She walks up and links her arm with mine. “Thank you so much for letting me use the shower.”
“No problem,” says Audrey. She’s watching us, like she suddenly thinks that there’s something off about what occurred. Maybe it’s just how different Lila looks.
“We have to catch a train, Cassel,” says Lila.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll call you.”
Audrey nods her head, still looking bewildered.
Lila and I head toward the sidewalk, and I know what this is. The blow-off and the getaway. High stakes or low stakes, the steps are the same.
Turns out I’m not like my dad at all. I really am just like my mother.
* * *
The train station is practically empty without the weekday commuter traffic. A guy about my age sits on one of the painted wooden benches, arguing with a girl whose eyes look red and puffy. An old woman leans over a pull cart of groceries. Standing in the far corner two girls with slender mohawks dyed a deep pink giggle together over a Game Boy.
“We should call your dad.” I fish my cell phone out of my pocket. “Make sure he’s going to be in his office when we get there.”
Lila stares into the glass of a vending machine, her expression unreadable. Her reflection wavers a little, like maybe she’s trembling. “We’re not going to New York. We have to get him to meet me somewhere else.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want anyone but him to know I’m back. Anyone. We have no idea who’s working with Anton.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. After all she’s been through, a little paranoia is probably not misplaced.
“I overheard a lot,” she says. “I know their plan.”
