She didn’t seem it. She was angry.

And she was tapping her foot.

I eyed that foot. Who tapped their foot like that? Seriously?

“Say that again.”

She couldn’t be talking about what I thought she was talking about because then . . . ew. How the hell would she know that?

Her arms uncrossed, and her hands formed fists, pressing into her legs. “You screamed last night. I was dreaming about taking a puppy to a fair. Ryan put it on me, but it was you. I know what you two are doing. He’s either sneaking over to your place or you’re at ours. It was you who screamed last night.”

Prove it.

I sooo wanted to say Willow’s words to her, but the truth was, Peach could. Easily.

Open the fucking bedroom door at three in the morning, and the proof is there. So I kept my mouth shut.

Ugh!

I ignored Willow. I was still mad at her for disappearing last night.

Fuck you.

I ignored that too.

“What do you want?” I asked Peach.

Fine. She wanted to play ball with me? Well, there were consequences. I was going to call her on it.

She frowned, her head lowering an inch as she moved back a step. “What do you mean?”

“What do you want? If I screamed, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” Her frown deepened.

“Then why’d you come over all heated like this?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms again. “I don’t know. I wanted you and Ryan to know that I know. And why’d you scream?”

It wasn’t something nightmare-worthy, at least not to others.

“I dreamed my sister and I were at Homecoming.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head. “That sounds kinda nice.”

I snorted. “I knew you’d think that.”

“It wasn’t?”

I gave her a dark look. “It was my sister. Me. Homecoming. I’ll never be able to go to another dance with her. You do the math.” I turned toward my locker again.

I left out the part where I was becoming Willow. The creep meter was off the charts there.

“I’m sorry, Mackenzie.”

Her quiet voice drew my eyes up to her again.

“I’m sorry your puppy dream got interrupted,” I offered.

A giggle left her and then another. She shook her head. “Sorry. Just . . .puppy dream. Sounds funny when you say that.”

I grunted. “I’d take a puppy dream over the weird shit in my head any day.”

She sobered. “Yeah. I’m sure you would.” A new softness emanated from her, and she murmured, “I’m really sorry about your sister.”

I couldn’t remember if she’d told me before, but the ring of sincerity told me she meant it this time.

Feeling choked up again, I nodded.

The warning bell rang.

I was standing in the hallway, getting all emotional with Ryan’s sister four minutes before the next class.

Fuck this.

“I’ll see you later,” I told her.

I didn’t wait for her response. Everyone else had started for their classes, and I merged with the stream to veer toward my classroom.

Ryan and I had sex.

Yes, I was on repeat, but I was giving myself a break. I had to process things while I was refusing to process something else, and that something enjoyed haunting me.

Aaand back to processing what I could: I was no longer a virgin.

It hurt at first, but then it felt good. Then it felt really good.

I was there for Willow after she had done the deed. I sat on her bed and listened to every detail.

I hadn’t been crying last night because I couldn’t share that experience with her. I cried because I wouldn’t have.

Willow was supposed to know. She would’ve cried, begged me for the 411, and I wouldn’t have said a thing because Ryan would’ve been important to me. Willow would’ve been jealous. She would’ve wanted him for herself, but I had him, and I got him because I crawled into his bed that night.

Willow was supposed to know . . .

Get over yourself. I’m so here, but you won’t admit it. Right, Mac? When did you start talking to yourself? Yes. Yes. You’re crazy. You’re so nuts, they’ll ship you to a hospital so you don’t do what I did. That’s your real worry, isn’t it?

“Enough!” I roared, and like that, I was staring at my classroom, and Willow was gone.

Every person in the room—including the teacher—was looking at me.

I was smack dab in front of the door as the last bell rang.

Mr. Breckley cleared his throat. “I quite agree. Enough. It’s time for some learning.” He ignored the light smattering of laughter and motioned to me. “Now, if you’ll close the door, Miss Malcolm, we’ll get to today’s lesson.”

My neck felt warm.

I kicked the doorstopper out and went to my seat, ignoring the questioning looks from Tom, Nick, and Cora.

“Hey.”

Ryan’s greeting shouldn’t have stood out with all the noise in the hallway, but it was as if I’d become attuned to his voice, his body, him. The rest of school, all of it melted into the background, and I turned, knowing he’d be standing there, watching me with the quiet concern maybe he shouldn’t have had. The tension eased from my body.