"You want to get out of here?" Dylan was saying to me, but I could barely make out the words.

I shook my head miserably. I didn't have time to hang out with my boyfriend, to have long talks about where this was all going. It was going nowhere. I was going nowhere.

I pulled away from him, mumbled to my mother that I'd see her back at home, and left the hall. It was raining now, freezing cold drops spitting down from the sky. I got in my car, tore off my suit jacket, and yanked every last goddamn pin out of my hair. Nice clothes hadn't done the trick, and neither had sexy librarian or fancy animated graphics or impeccable science. If they only wanted to give their prize to biomed, they should have expressed that in the rules.

Stupid Canton and their stupid expensive, best-in-the-country program. I hated it. It had ruined me. All of Dylan's fantasies of the scientific power couple were revealed for what they were: dreams. I couldn't afford Canton, even with the academic scholarship. And Colorado? Ha. It would take me two jobs this summer to work my way out of the hole I'd dug in a single semester. And I still had the spring semester looming ahead, with new books, new fees, new bills.

"Three jobs," I murmured to no one in particular as I drove off the campus. I'd always had to fight, hadn't I? If it took losing a semester of credits, if it took moving in with my mother-I'd done everything else to have Canton. I could do three jobs, too.

And there was no time like the present, was there? I'd been lax in my shifts at Verde recently, prioritizing study time over my job. Oh, who was I kidding? It was only when it was study time with Dylan that I'd blown off work. I'd rationalized that if Dylan and I worked hard enough, we'd win the symposium, and I'd make up all those lost tips in one fell swoop.

Well, it was time to face facts. Girls like me didn't get breaks like that. No, we were Sylvia, waiting tables and performing at campus coffee shops and never leaving this town for New York or Nashville or LA or wherever it was singers actually got jobs singing. We were my mother, who swore she loved art but would settle for beauty. I could have Canton, but not unless I let it wear me down.

Why waste time? I had so much money to make and so little time to do it. Maybe they needed an extra hand at Verde tonight. I made a U-turn and started heading to the restaurant. Screw the fact that I'd left my uniform at home. Who cared that I was wearing pumps instead of standard-issue waitress sneakers? I'd been an idiot to expect my life at Canton would be one of fancy, science-symposium afterparties. I had tables to bus and drinks to pour.

I walked into Verde, and Sylvia sprinted to my side.

"What are you doing here!" she said under her breath. "I told you not to come in."

I made a face. "No, you said you didn't need me this week." Verde was decorated for the holidays, with sparkly lights dripping down from all the trees in the atrium.

"That was a heavy hint," she replied. "Now, out of here, quick, before she sees you."

"Who?" I asked, but then I saw her, her back ramrod straight in the booth, her hair falling like liquid gold down her back.

Hannah.

TWENTY-FOUR.

"She's been coming here and asking for you." Sylvia wrung her hands. "Since yesterday. I can't get rid of her. She's polite and she orders and Bill says unless she causes a scene we can't refuse service."

I looked over the tops of the booths at our customer. Verde was quiet tonight. Most people were probably studying.

"Well," I said. "She is a regular."

Hannah saw me. She didn't wave. She didn't smile. She just sat there, like a princess waiting to receive her audience. And God help me, I started walking over. I held onto the silver T like a talisman, like it could ward off the worst of her wrath. I'd never meant to hurt her.

"Tess, don't," said Sylvia. "I'm serious. What if she does have a vial of acid in her purse-"

I waved her off, uninterested in Sylvia's theories. I arrived at the booth. "Hi."

"Hi," she replied. "Have a seat?"

I slid onto the bench seat across from her. It was odd, being so close. Hannah was shorter than me and thinner, too. Her skin was a gorgeous peaches and cream, her hair was straight as rainfall, and her eyes were like looking in a mirror.

"So...," I said. "My friend thinks you're here to attack me for stealing your boyfriend."

There was the tiniest twitch on her polished, aristocratic expression, but it was gone in an instant. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. I didn't even know you knew I worked here." And I wasn't sure how it made me feel, either. I'd spent most of my life believing it absolutely vital that Hannah Swift never thought about me at all.

"Dylan told me. He talked about you a lot." She gave a small, self-mocking laugh. "Should have known, right?" She waved down a server. "Would you like something to drink? I have to order something every half-hour or they kick me out."

"What do you want from me, Hannah?"

But Hannah just smiled at our server, a guy named Phil I didn't know very well, and ordered two iced teas. Once he was gone, she spent a great deal of time rearranging the cocktail napkins on the table.

"You've apparently been hanging out here looking for me," I continued.

"I don't know what I want," she said abruptly, still looking down. "I want to hate you, I guess."

"That seems fair."

"Doesn't it?" She looked up, a rueful smile on her face, but as soon as our eyes met, it vanished. "It's been a bad few months for me, you know? I didn't get into any of the classes I wanted, I totally flunked my Stats midterm, I had a big medical scare, and then some bitch stole my boyfriend."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"About what part?" She raised her eyebrows.

"All of it." I wanted to add something about how I wish I'd known she was having difficulty in Stats, because I totally could have helped her, but of course, I couldn't have. I wouldn't have. The rules.

I should have.

Phil came back with our iced teas and a small plate of lemons, which both Hannah and I reached for at once. Our knuckles brushed and I snatched my hand back. She took two slices, then pushed the plate over to me. I nabbed the rest as my pulse sped.

Hannah liked lemon in her iced tea, too.

"So, yeah," she went on, squeezing the lemon into her drink and watching me as I did the same. "But what that whole health thing did was make me think about how, as much as life sucks sometimes, I should really appreciate the things that I have. I shouldn't go out of my way to make enemies." She paused. "And even if I want to hate her, I should probably at least try to get to know my sister."

I choked on my tea. "You-how did you-"

"Dylan told me. The night after the hospital. Don't get mad."

"He promised-"

"I basically made him," she said calmly. "Well, I basically guessed, and he's not much of a liar."

No, he certainly wasn't. "You...guessed?"

She was silent for a long while, staring down into her tea. "I knew my dad cheated on my mom before I was born. My mom told me about it once, a long time ago. They almost broke up, but then she got pregnant."

Stop, I thought at Hannah. Just go back to hating me.

"I thought that's all there was to it. But you were there at the hospital that night. When I went in to see my dad, he was so out of it on drugs, he thought I was still you. He kept telling me to go away but calling me Tess, he kept mentioning someone I assume is your mother. So I Googled."

"You Googled?"

"I can Google things, you know. I'm just not good at math." She frowned. "I knew your name. I found out hers. I saw pictures of her art and recognized a few paintings. My father has some just like them hanging in his office."

"He does?" That didn't sound like him. That didn't sound like the rules.

"So I went there. Do you know what else he has in his office? I do, because I went through everything. I told his secretary I needed some records for his doctor. Anyway, I found a picture of you. You're young in it-maybe middle school? But I recognized you."

That definitely didn't sound like following the rules! "Is it the one with the off-center ponytail?"

"And the zit on your nose," she finished a little too gleefully. "And your eyes. Your Swift eyes."

I closed those eyes, unable to bear the accusation on her face.

"So what would you do, Tess?"

I opened my eyes, those eyes that were so much like hers, and met her gaze.

"I want to hate you, because you stole Dylan from me. I want to hate Dylan, because he left me. But you guys slid right off the top of the list. Right now, I want to hate my father even more."

Sorry didn't seem strong enough for what I needed to say to her. "I'm not supposed to talk to you," I said lamely. "Ever."

"That's ludicrous," she said. "You have no idea how insane that sounds to me."

Spoken aloud, the rules did sound crazy. I remembered Sylvia making fun of me, here in this very restaurant, when I dared mention rules.

I stirred my straw around in my drink as silence descended between us once more. The rules were smashed to smithereens, but it didn't feel at all like I thought it would. Where was the part where Hannah and I hugged and braided each other's hair and gossiped about boys...boys we hadn't both slept with, that was?

"I wasn't in love with him, you know," she said at last. "Dylan, I mean. I thought I was, but I know now I couldn't be, because he didn't love me back. I guess he was always in love with you."

She waited, as if expecting me to respond. But I couldn't. What was I supposed to do, thrill to the confession? I already knew it, since honest Dylan had told me. And I wasn't here to gloat.

"That's what he said to me, you know. As soon as I figured out he didn't just dump me, he dumped me for his lab partner. He apologized, and he told me he'd always been in love with you." She looked me over, appraising every inch. "I wonder if that's why he dated me...because in some way, I reminded him of you. I don't think we have many similarities, though."

This glittering, blond Lady Who Lunches and her science nerd bastard sister? Not really. "I recognized you by your eyes when we met," I said at last.

"You already knew what you were looking for," she snapped and sipped her tea. "But you never answered my question."

"What question?"

"What would you do if you were me?"

I twirled the straw in my iced tea, batting at the slices of lemon until they drowned. "I don't know, Hannah. I have no idea what it's like to be you. I have no idea what it's like to have a father who lies to you every day. Dad-" She flinched, and I fumbled. Yeah, we were so not ready to put it like that. "Your dad...he cast me in the role of accomplice."

"And I'm the victim in your scenario?"

"Not what I meant-"

"No, it's fair," she conceded, then frowned as if her tea was too sour. "I know what I'm doing first."

I waited.

"I'm getting out of town. I'm not coming back to Canton next semester. I'm halfway through my junior year and I still can't land on a major. I need to go away for a while, figure some shit out. School. Boys. Family..."

I nodded in understanding. "That sounds...nice."

"Yeah," she said. "I thought maybe Europe."

"How are you going to afford it?" I could have cut my tongue out the second the words slipped from my lips.

She stared at me, alternately amused and pitying. The gulf between us was massive. Hannah had never worried how she'd pay for something in her life. "So that's what I'm doing here," she said instead. "Partly."

"Partly?" I wasn't sure how there could be anything left after this, the most bizarre conversation of my life.

"I'm going away. I probably won't see you again for a while. Four months? Six? And I hate you a lot right now. But maybe once I get back"-she gave a little, self-mocking giggle-"once I've slept my way through my fair share of Spanish pool boys and Swiss ski instructors and forgotten all about that jerk Dylan you're dating..."

I almost snorted iced tea up my nose. She was funny, this sister of mine.

She looked away now, off into the distance, and her voice dropped a few levels. "Maybe I'll be ready for us to get to know each other." She shrugged. "If you want."

I thought of the horror movies on her Facebook page. Of the friends Dylan said didn't understand her. Of the way I'd wished to sneak her my bone marrow if she were really sick. "I would," I said softly as my nose burned and my eyes watered. "I really, really would."

"Okay then." She folded her cocktail napkin, then unfolded it again. "That's all I came for...except also, Dylan told me you're here on scholarship, but it's not covering everything."

"Yeah. Well."

Her pretty pink lips formed a thin line. "Dad's going to pay for your school from now on."

"I don't want to live by his rules anymore," I replied. It was easier than I'd ever thought it would be. Dylan would probably say that was because it was the truth. Dad's money came with Dad's rules, and I was done. I was here with my sister, and she wanted us to try. What was fear of my father to that?

Hannah rolled her eyes. "These aren't his rules," she said. "They're mine. I went to Dad and told him I knew. I told him that unless he supports you in school like he's supported me, I'm telling my mother he had a child with his mistress." She stopped. "I mean...your mom."

My eyes widened and my heart pounded at the very idea. It wasn't the words that had bothered me-my mother was his mistress. Hadn't I said it to myself a thousand times? But if Hannah's mother knew, if it was public... My mom might be his mistress, but she also loved him. The rules weren't just for me. "Please don't do that."

"What would you do, Tess," she repeated, "if you were me?"

I knew what I'd do. I knew because I'd done it. I'd followed the rules. I'd stayed silent. I hadn't argued with my parents when they'd arrayed themselves against me. I'd acted just like my mother, letting Dad's desire for secrecy keep me from Canton for two years. I'd nearly let it keep me from Dylan forever.

And I was done. I was not that kind of girl anymore. I was the girl who'd risked my father's wrath to pursue my dream school. I was the girl who refused to follow in my parents' path of betrayal and lies when it came to Dylan.

I was done playing by the old rules. I was determined to make my own.

"Besides," she added, "you and I both know Canton costs a lot less than he'd lose if Mom created a scandal or sued his ass for divorce."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Wouldn't she just make him break up with my mom?"

"Yeah, because that worked out so well last time," Hannah scoffed. "You haven't seen my parents in action. Trust me. I know exactly how all this would go down."