Zaslow didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t dismiss his explanation entirely. “Miss Tierney said that the two of you do spend some time together outside of school.”

Skye didn’t have as much experience as he did at these things, unfortunately—she’d cracked a little—but he knew what she must have told Zaslow. It was as clear as if she’d whispered it into his ear. “We both enjoy riding, so we inevitably end up running into each other on the trail. I’ve even rented one of her stable’s horses a few times. And we do talk.” Once again, a lie was stronger when laced with the truth. “You might know that she lost her brother almost a year ago. Well, my younger sister died tragically, too, and I know what it’s like to need someone to talk to.”

Because he’d admitted to going slightly over the line, he could see Zaslow was considering the idea that he was being honest. “You realize how easily that could be misconstrued.”

“Well. I do now.” He ran one hand through his hair, allowing the curls to show; the younger he looked at the moment, the better. “I’m sorry, Principal Zaslow. I’m new at this, and I guess I’m still figuring out where to draw the boundaries. But I’d never abuse her trust.” Yours, sure. I’m abusing that right now. Balthazar didn’t like that, but he knew better than to attempt to share any part of the truth.

“She said your friendship was just that. Friendship.” Zaslow sighed. “I’m inclined to believe you both. You haven’t done anything damaging—yet. But I can tell that girl thinks the world of you, which is why you need to back off. If you don’t, you’re going to have a brokenhearted teenage girl on your hands at best, a lawsuit by her parents against the school district at worst.”

“Never,” Balthazar said. He wasn’t sure exactly what her parents would be able to sue him for but devoutly hoped never to learn.

Zaslow looked more relieved than frustrated. “Listen—I want you to go in and talk with the counselor for a while. She’s ready for you, and she’ll be dealing with Skye for the next few weeks. I just need to be able to write this up to the satisfaction of Skye’s parents, and to clear your record so you won’t have any trouble getting hired in this state again.”

How quickly could he get that over with? An hour, Balthazar figured. Skye was smart enough to get home immediately and stay there until he came for her. “Okay. Sounds like a good idea.”

“And I meant what I said,” Zaslow said, leaning forward over her desk. “We don’t need a situation on our hands, and we don’t need gossip. Stay away from Skye Tierney.”

“I will,” he replied, thinking only of how quickly he could get to her again.

Chapter Twenty-four

IT’S BEEN SUGGESTED THAT YOUR RELATIONSHIP with Mr. More may be inappropriate for that of a teacher and student.

Principal Zaslow had been so calm when she spoke—kindly, even—but Skye still felt like she wanted to throw up. Balthazar was only the second guy she’d ever been with, and to have the principal asking questions about it like it was something gross or dirty—it popped the happy bubble she’d been in since Friday night, and all those feelings of being trapped on every side were rushing back.

Skye’s phone rang as she crossed the quad, gravel crunching under her feet. Had to be her parents—though her phone didn’t recognize the number. Maybe they were calling from some office phone in the capitol building. “Hello?”

“Why, hello there,” Redgrave said. “Am I calling at a bad time?”

She froze in her tracks. “How did you get this number?”

“You put it in the public information on your Facebook profile. Which is an enormously stupid thing to do, by the way. Everyone knows there are all sorts of predators on the internet.” Even over the phone, it was obvious he was smiling. “So, I was wondering if you’d come to any final answer for me.”

“I told you I don’t want to have anything to do with you.” Her voice shook, and she wished it didn’t.

“But now that you know what’s at stake—what your alternatives really are—I was hoping you’d have changed your mind. We could have such wild times together.”

“Both alternatives have me as your slave. No thanks.”

Redgrave made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue. “As you say—it’s going to happen one way or the other. You’ve chosen the other. So be it. See you soon, my dear.”

The call disconnected. Skye stuffed her phone in her bag and dashed toward the nearest bathroom. She definitely needed to rinse her face off with cold water; she might need a little while to cry alone in a stall.

See you soon. She could just imagine the leer on Redgrave’s face as he said it. Never had she needed Balthazar’s presence so badly. Forget the protection he offered—she only wanted him to wrap his arms around her and comfort her. But she couldn’t go to him now. For at least a couple of hours, she’d have to brave it on her own.

As she walked into the bathroom, she was breaking down her options: Okay, I can take the bus home. Once I get inside my house, I’m safe. Mom and Dad are probably coming home early—and, hey, I can use this, make it seem like all the gossip is why I want to leave school. Why I have to. So Balthazar and I can still get out of here in a few days—

Then Skye realized that somebody else was in the bathroom with her: Madison, who was touching up her blush in the mirrors.