Cursing myself under my breath, I let the bathroom door shut behind me. “Veronica, are you okay?”

Her lashes lifted. “What does it look like? I’m fantastic.”

And that was why I hated girl code. Shaking my head, I turned back for the door. There had to be other bathrooms around.

“I thought he actually liked me,” she said, voice cracking. “Wasn’t I stupid? I bet that just makes you so freaking happy.”

With a sinking feeling, I faced her. “Del?”

“Who else?” She laughed as she dabbed at the pink skin under her eyes. “He finally dumped you, and I had my chance. There wasn’t even Cassie to get in the way.”

I thought about correcting who broke up with whom but decided against it. “Seeing you cry doesn’t make me happy.”

She threw the towel on the floor and spun around, gripping the edge of the sink. The intricate curls atop her head bounced off her tear-stained cheeks. “All he’s done is talk about you. About how you guys were just taking a break—that you two will get back together. I’m so sick of it!”

I was dumbfounded. “We’re not getting back together.”

“You should try telling him that.” Veronica threw up her hands. Nails painted to match her bloodred dress. Dizziness crept up on me. “Not that it matters. He told me that your mothers are planning a trip for you to the Poconos to patch things up.”

My mouth dropped. Oh my god, I was going to strangle that woman. And here I thought she’d been making progress tonight. Ugh. “Del and I aren’t going on any trip.”

Veronica started to laugh, but then it choked off. She sniffed. “You’re not.”

“He’s all yours if you want him, but seriously, do you want him?”

She stared at me as if I’d suggested we go kick some puppies in the street. “Everyone wants him.”

“No, not everyone does.” Again, I started to turn but stopped. “You deserve better than some guy who spends his time talking about someone else.”

Snatching another paper towel, she blotted her face. “Why are you being nice to me?”

Good question. “Why not?”

She sniffed again, turning back to the mirror. “Whatever.”

I left the bathroom then and nearly plowed into Candy and a gaggle of girls. Oh, for the love of God…

Candy popped her hand on her hip. “How far have you fallen? Dating the help?”

“How desperate are you?” I shot back. “Dating your dead friend’s ex-boyfriend?”

Her eyes shot wide and then narrowed, but I pushed past the girls. They followed me back into the ballroom, talking crap the entire way. I deserved a medal for not turning around and hitting one of them.

“Are you going to cry?” Candy crooned.

“What?” I frowned but kept going. Almost to the ballroom…almost.

“Or are you going to freak out and need to see your therapist?”

I spun around. “Why don’t you try acting like a real friend and go check the bathroom instead of following me around like a pathetic puppy?”

Candy cocked her head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your friend—Veronica? She could use you right now. She’s in the bathroom. Not having a very good time.”

Her nose scrunched up as if I’d just asked her to figure out the square root of three. “You’re probably seeing things again, huh? Veronica is having a great time. She’s going to be voted prom queen.”

I gave up at that point. “Whatever.”

“Insanity Sam!” Candy trilled, earning a few chuckles.

I rolled my eyes. “Clever, real clever.”

She bobbed her head at me like an ostrich and then turned on her heel, teetering away. A few girls were left, and I met their stares. Something in my eyes must’ve reminded them of the old Sammy because they scattered like cockroaches.

Refusing to let any of them ruin my one night of normalcy, I entered the ballroom and searched for Carson. Spotting him with my brother and a few other baseball players, I headed in his direction.

A tall, slender body suddenly appeared in front of me, dressed in red. In an instant, the dancing bodies, the music, and the dazzling lights all disappeared. The world turned gray.

Cassie was in front of me.

Her pretty dress was ragged and hung limply from her ghastly pale arms. A dark oily substance seeped down her face. I took a step forward. The side of her head…it was shaped wrong, sunken in.

Cracked. Shattered.

Bile rose in my throat. “Cassie,” I whispered.

And I realized then she wasn’t really standing. Her arms and legs sort of waved in a lazy rhythm, as if something carried her body. Part of me recognized what I was seeing—Cassie floating in the lake, which explained the doll-like vacancy in her eyes.

Another form appeared between us, scrambling through the air…or over the boulders. Moonlight reflected off the slender body. Wind blew back long strands as she screamed out, “Cassie!”

My heart stuttered. It was me—me staring down at Cassie’s body.

From the darkness, someone appeared, reaching out to the gray version of me. I turned, horror and disbelief etched into my face. My face contorted as I stood, taking a step back.

The other person was taller, broader. Frustration boiled in me. I couldn’t see his face!

He reached for me, and I could taste the panic pulsating off both of us. My foot slipped on the rock; my arms flailed as I tried to keep my balance, to grab for something—for him. A silent scream parted my lips as my body bent in half.

And then I tumbled over backward—gone, falling as the dark void reached up and pulled me down. Gone.

I jerked out of the vision when a body bumped into mine. Dazed, I twisted around.

A face leered into mine. “What are you doing? Move out of the way, freak.”

Barely hearing the words, I stumbled toward the doors. Horrible as it sounded, excitement pulsed through me. It hadn’t been just Cassie and me. Someone else had been there with us.

And then a different scenario crept into my thoughts. The other person might not have pushed Cassie. I’d been the one on the edge of the cliff, screaming her name. He could’ve been there, witnessed it all. But that didn’t make sense. If there had been a third person and he had seen me, why hadn’t he gone to the police?

He would’ve, unless he had something to hide.

I had to talk to Carson.

Pulling my cell out of the clutch, I sent Carson a quick text, telling him I was going outside for some air just in case he started looking for me. Leaving the ballroom behind, I stepped into the dimly lit hallway that led to the back parking lot. My heels clicked on the floor, a steady echo that kept me company. I placed my hand on the cooled glass of the door, stopping when goose bumps spread across my flesh. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose.

I looked over my shoulder, scanning the empty hall. No one was there, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It swirled inside me, like dark ink spilled into water. Pushing open the door, I stepped out into the night air and refused to look behind me.

Ignore the feelings—they aren’t real. The memories were, but everything else was just me freaking myself out…or trying to communicate with myself, which was odd and downright insane-sounding.

I clicked across the parking lot while every nerve seemed to be firing at once. Look back. You’ll see him. He’s there. Waiting and watching. My heart started racing as fast as it had when Carson had come so very close to kissing me while we danced. Only not as pleasant.

My cell phone chirped loudly from inside my clutch, causing me to jump and almost eat asphalt. Placing my hand over my slamming heart, I let out a shaky laugh. Scared to death by a text message. Jeez. Stopping beside a large tree, I dug out my cell. Carson’s name flashed across my screen.

Then I heard it, the equal, measured steps—heavy and foreboding, sending my pulse racing. Ice formed tight balls inside my stomach. It’s not real. It’s not real. One. Two. Three. The footsteps were closer. The back of my neck burned with awareness.

I couldn’t breathe.

Fingers shaking, I ran them across the screen of my cell, opening Carson’s text. B THERE IN A SEC. My lungs spasmed, working again. Carson was coming. I was okay. I would be—

The loose strands of hair on the back of my neck stirred. Warmth moved over my skin.

A hand circled my bare arm, and my heart lurched into my throat. I started to scream, but another hand clamped down on my mouth, smothering the sound.

“Don’t scream,” he said.

Chapter twenty-five

The second I recognized the voice, anger replaced the terror. I slammed my elbow back into Del’s stomach with everything I had in me. Pain radiated down my arm, but with a startled grunt, he let go.

I whirled around, ready to use my clutch as a deadly weapon. “What is wrong with you?”

He clutched his stomach, eyes wide. “Jesus, Sammy, that wasn’t necessary.”

I wanted to hit him again. “It wasn’t? You snuck up on me and put your hand over my mouth! Jesus, I thought you were going to…”

Straightening, he met my stare. “Do what? You had to have heard me walk up behind you. I wasn’t being exactly stealth about it.”

“But...” But I thought he hadn’t been real, just another auditory hallucination. Now I wanted to hit Dr. O’Connell. What if Del had been some kind of psycho? And I just stood there, telling myself he wasn’t real? I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. What do you want?”

He looked wounded. “I just wanted to talk with you. You did promise, by the way.”

I slipped my phone back into the clutch. “I didn’t promise anything, and you’re here with Veronica—”

“I don’t care about Veronica!” A vein pulsed along his temple, and I took a weary step back. “I only came with her because you’ve been avoiding me, not giving me a chance to talk to you.”

Weeks later and he still wanted to fix things? Sad…and even a bit disturbing. I searched over his shoulder for Carson, but the parking lot appeared empty.

“Did you really come here with Carson?” Del asked. “Like, as a date?”

My eyes shot back to him. Upon closer inspection, I saw that his cheeks were ruddy. Temper or alcohol? “Yes. He asked me and I said yes.”

Del shook his head as he ran his tongue along the front of his teeth. “So you’re dating Carson now?”

Our newly labeled relationship seemed too fragile to blast to the entire world, but before I could say anything, the immediate lack of response hit a sore spot with him. He cursed. “Carson of all people? His dad works for your dad, Sammy. He’s below a bottom-feeder.”

“He’s not a bottom-feeder!” I took a step forward, hands shaking. “And I don’t care that his dad works for mine. It doesn’t matter. Money doesn’t buy taste, personality, or common decency.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you saying Carson is better than me?”

I didn’t want to stoop to that level, but ugly anger turned me inside out. “Yes, he is better than you.”

“You know what? I wouldn’t have wasted almost four years with you if I’d known what a complete and utter loser you were going to turn into.” He took another step, towering over me. His own fury rolled off him in dark, murky waves. “I would’ve stood by you, too. While everyone is calling you Insanity Sam, I’ve backed you up, protected you! I’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“Kept your mouth shut about what?”

“What? You can’t figure it out? I know, Sammy,” he sneered. “You can forget loyalty. You screwed that up. And you’re nothing without me.”

I recoiled, stung by the venom lacing his words. And what was I supposed to know that he knew? Before I could demand answers, another voice, cold and hard, intruded.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Carson said from behind him, startling both of us. “She’s actually about a thousand times better without you.”

Del spun around. “Why? Because she’s screwing—”

Carson’s fist slammed into Del’s jaw. There was a fleshy sound, and then Del’s head jerked back. He folded like a deck of cards, hitting the ground and rolling onto his side, clutching his jaw.

“You know, I was sort of jealous when I found out Scott got to give you that black eye,” Carson said, shaking his right hand. “But then I told myself to be patient. You’d give us another reason to knock the living shit out of you.”

“What an odd thing to be patient for,” I mumbled.

He ignored me. “Listen to me clearly, Del. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her again. If you do, you can trust that a busted jaw isn’t anything close to what I will do to you. Got that?”

Del grunted something in reply that suspiciously sounded like a string of four-letter words.

Coming to my side, Carson leaned in, his lips brushing across my cheek as he spoke. “I think we should get out of here before I hit him again.”

I glanced over his shoulder. Del was picking himself up off the ground, leaning against a car for support. My hand found Carson’s and squeezed. “I think you’re right.”

Part of me wasn’t surprised that the night ended with fists being thrown. On the way home, I told Carson about the memory I had but kept Del’s cryptic words to myself because I didn’t know what they meant. Like me, he seemed excited about this development. At first.

“This is a good thing. Maybe you’re starting to remember everything….” He trailed off, focusing on the road.