Why did I call him? I hated him.

Then I asked, my voice making myself grimace, I sounded so raw, “You were pro-choice.”

“Huh?” There was loud music in the background, and he added, “Hold on.” A moment later, the music faded. His voice was louder. “You’re asking about the abortion issues? Do we need to know about it for tomorrow?”

“Linde said his sister was raped. I was wondering why you were pro-choice.”

He was silent.

Then, “Are you pregnant?”

My throat hurt so much. My fingers curled into my jeans by my knees. “Why were you pro-choice? Can you tell me? Please.”

Another beat where he didn’t answer.

His voice dropped. “Why are you asking? Kennedy, were you . . . ”

Oh, my goodness. He was going to ask me.

“No! Just tell me why you were pro-choice.”

“Look.” He cleared his throat, sounding so kind, so considerate. So gentle. “Why are you asking me this stuff? Kennedy, did someone hurt you?”

“I just want to know.”

“I won’t tell you until you tell me.”

He was so stubborn. I groaned, pressing my knees to my chest. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

He laughed quietly. “Uh, we’re kind of a match there.” He prodded again, “Tell me why, Kennedy. Did someone hurt you?”

“No.” I lifted my head back up. My voice grew hoarse. “But a friend of mine might’ve been. My brother called and told me he heard someone I knew was raped. And I have no clue what to do.”

“Oh.”

I waited, bated breath. My heart even paused.

Nothing.

I cried out, “Are you going to say anything?”

“I don’t know what to say. I was worried about you. You’re not hurt? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m not hurt. Why were you pro-choice?”

He cursed under his breath. “You’re pushing this on me now? Fucking A. Okay, I didn’t share because I didn’t want you to look at me how you looked at those girls. I’m pro-choice because Linde is, because he’s my buddy, and I’m going to back him up. That’s why.”

“For real?” I didn’t know if I was relieved or even more frustrated. “I was hoping you could tell me what to do. I have no fucking clue.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “What would you do?”

“Talk to the girl.”

“I’m not really friends with her.”

“Are you friends with someone who is friends with her?”

“Yeah, but if it were me, I wouldn’t want anyone to know. Not until I chose to tell them.”

He was quiet for another moment. Then, so damned softly that the kindness I heard from him dislodged more tears, he said, “Then you have to go to her. I’m guessing she hasn’t said anything.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” I had to go. I didn’t want to. My fingers had formed knots around my pants. They didn’t want to let go either.

“Look, do you want to talk to Linde about it?”

I should, but I heard myself saying, “No.” Linde was easy. He was a surface friend. Things were good with him. Things weren’t with Shay, but he was someone I’d already gone deep with. That made sense. That was why I called him and not Linde.

I had to go.

“I’m going to go talk to her.”

“You want me to come, just be there for you?”

I barked out a quiet laugh. “That’d be weird.”

“I know, but you seem like you could use some support.”

I could have him come. I could tell Kristina. I could put this on either of their shoulders, but that wasn’t the right thing to do. His presence would put the whole dorm in upheaval. If he visited any girl there, everyone would know. If I told Kristina, I’d be breaking Casey’s confidence, even though she hadn’t chosen to give it to me.

Both were easy-outs, and I couldn’t indulge in either.

“I’m going to hang up and go talk to her.”

“Okay. I’ll have my phone on all night. Call if you need anything.”

That felt nice, but I frowned. “I still hate you.”

He laughed. “I know. I hate you, too.”

We hated each other again. Everything was right again.

Kristina was in their room, but Casey wasn’t. Their door was open, but I still knocked, rapping my knuckles against the wood. “Hey, uh, where’s your roommate?”

She was sitting in a similar position I just stood from, and putting her feet back on the floor, she motioned for me to come inside. “You can shut the door. I think they’re downstairs baking.” She laughed under her breath. “Sarah wanted to send cookies to some guy—” Cookies again! “—and they decided it was the greatest idea in the world. The last plan I heard was that they were going to do a bunch of cookies, put them on plates, and give them away as gifts.”

I joked, “Linde might like to be their friend.”

God.

Worst timing ever.

I was horrible at this stuff.

I lingered in the doorway. I didn’t come inside, and I hadn’t closed the door.

Her slight grin lessened. “Haven’t seen you all week.”

“Yeah.” I lifted up a shoulder, holding it because that was the most awkward thing to do, right? I had to remember to let it drop. “Just been busy with stuff.” A girl came up through the back door, and I could hear laughter coming from in there. I looked over, thinking it may have been Casey.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” My attention went back to Kristina, but she had returned to her book. Her highlighter was in the air. “Anything happen with you guys this week? You okay? Casey . . .” I looked back to that door to the stairway.

“Yeah. Why?” She ran the neon yellow marker over some words.

“No reason.” I edged back. I got my answer. “I’ll—uh—I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure.” I heard her response but was heading for the door. “Wait. What—” That came as I opened the door.

Heading down the last two sets of stairs to the kitchen in the basement, I could hear them laughing down there.

Sarah was saying something.

Laura shrieked.

I waited, but no Casey. I pushed open the door and rounded the corner. Aromas of baked cookies filled my nostrils. I could identify the chocolate chip right away.

Casey was sitting on the counter, fiddling with a fork.

Laura was mixing the dough. Sarah was rolling the dough into a large spoon and putting them on the pan. The two were talking to each other, but not Casey. She seemed zoned out.

“Hey!” Laura noticed me. She held up a different mixer covered in dough. “Want some? We’ll get you your own spoon.”

Sarah turned my way, too, but not Casey. She continued looking down, still holding that fork.

I gestured to her. “Actually, Casey.”

She looked.

“Could I talk to you for a second?”

“Me?”

Even Sarah and Laura were surprised, sharing a look.

I nodded, feeling my neck and legs still filled with lead. “Yeah.” Holy shit, I didn’t want to do this. My insides were screaming for me to turn around, but there was something in the middle of my chest not letting me. If I did, I’d regret it. I didn’t know why, or when, but I knew I would. Alarms, and gut instincts. This was the year I was listening to mine.

I motioned for the hallway. “Maybe in the chapel or something?” That’d be empty, for certain.

All three exchanged looks, but Casey shrugged and jumped off the counter. “Sure.” She followed me inside.

I stopped, surprised by how quaint and cozy it was. There was red carpet, a small altar, two sitting chairs, and a wood counter with a Bible on top. It was also creepy. I sat on one of the chairs, folding my knees against my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

Casey frowned, sitting on the bottom step of the altar. She threaded her hands together, letting them fall onto her lap. Her legs stretched out before her. “What’s up?”