Without another word, I dragged myself up the stairs to my bedroom.

When my dad came home around seven, I strained from the confines of my bedroom to listen to what my mom said to him, but all I could make out was the low murmur of voices in the kitchen. At one point my dad stomped past my room, but he didn't stop to check on me.

I closed my eyes and squeezed back the tears, wishing I had Neil's arms around me. I couldn't even remember the last time anyone had reached out to touch me-not even for a hug.

I might be grounded, but I'd still sneak out and see Neil tonight. f.u.c.k it. He felt like the only thin thread connecting me to love-or to anything really except anger and disappointment. I just prayed that my parents would be asleep by the time I lifted my window and crawled into the darkness.

Chapter Twenty-six.

SAt.u.r.dAY, APRIL 25 / 12:02 A.M.

I pa.s.sed under a stooped birch at the end of Neil's driveway and tried not to breathe too deeply as I approached his window.

I tapped on the pane-once, twice. I counted the seconds to stop the panic climbing up my brain stem. Finally, Neil pushed aside his curtain and motioned for me to come to the back door.

I waited, shivering, until he opened it. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to his bedroom. He closed the door and held me close.

I breathed in the rich smell of him, comforting and familiar.

"Hey," he said, pushing back my hair. "Glad you made it." Before I knew it, he'd leaned in and kissed me. Instinctively, I reached out and touched his face, the rugged smoothness of it sending sparks shooting along my fingertips.

"I missed you," he said. He sat on the bed and pulled me on top of him. I didn't resist. Within moments we were rolling and groaning quietly, careful not to be too loud.

My whole body was hot with antic.i.p.ation, but every time I closed my eyes, my brain started firing off questions. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you talk about where your relationship stands before you make out? What if Neil is just using you again?

The questions came to a screeching halt when I felt Neil's throbbing p.e.n.i.s against my thigh. I gasped, and he kissed my neck.

"Did you ever . . . ," he whispered.

I sat up on one elbow. "What?"

"Did you ever do it with anyone?"

I steadied my breathing. "If you're asking me if I'm still a virgin, then yes."

After homecoming, I had wanted to have s.e.x with Neil. I'd wanted him to be the One-my first. But we'd never gotten the chance, thanks to him dumping me.

"Me too," Neil said.

I felt like there was more he wasn't saying. "And?"

"I just always wanted it to be you," he said, running a finger along my ribs. "Always."

Is this why you wanted to get back together? I wanted to ask. My brain was humming like my computer processor.

"I have condoms," Neil continued. "If you . . . you know."

I sat up fully. Neil did the same. "Neil, I just-"

To my surprise, Neil cut me off. "It's okay," he said. "You don't have to explain."

"But I want to explain," I insisted. "I thought that's why I was here. So I could explain how I felt, and so could you. Wasn't I coming over so we could work things out between us?"

"Totally," Neil said, running a hand through his hair. "Absolutely."

An awkward silence fell between us. Finally, I spoke. "If you want to get back together, then I need to know we're together. That you won't like me one minute and then pretend not to know me the next. It tears my heart out when you do that. If that's not what we're going to be, then-then I should go."

Neil leaned in and touched my thigh. He began moving his hands upward. "Don't go. That's not how it'll be."

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "For real?"

"For real."

My body was heating up in relation to how high his hand was going. "This time it will be different?" I asked.

"Definitely."

He's never said he wanted to get back together before, I told myself, trying to focus. So this must be for real.

And that's when another thought crammed itself in my brain like a file folder into an already stuffed drawer. If you have s.e.x with Neil, maybe that will seal the deal officially. Then you really will be back together. Maybe that's what it will take.

I wished suddenly for a brain noose that would cut off blood flow to whichever part of my mind had thought that. No, no, no, I repeated to myself silently. That is not an option.

Neil pressed himself against me. "I love you so much. And I always wanted us to be each other's firsts."

I kissed him-a long, aching kiss that left me shaking. "I wanted that too," I said. "I still do. But we're going to have to rebuild what we had."

Neil nodded. "I know. But I want to try. Do you?" He pressed himself against me, harder this time.

I exhaled and let myself feel him fully. "Yes. Absolutely."

Neil was draped across me when my cell phone alarm buzzed. I pushed him off and checked the screen. Three thirty A.M. Plenty of time for me to sneak back home, throw my tackle together, and pad downstairs for breakfast with my dad before we headed to the ba.s.s tournament together.

I kissed Neil softly on the cheek. He stirred and stretched a little. His hair was tousled, but still I reached out to put my hand in it, to feel its texture one last time before I went home. Neil exhaled but kept sleeping.

As quietly as I could, I pulled on my clothes, grabbed my car keys, and turned the k.n.o.b of his bedroom door. Just as I was stepping out, I heard a voice.

"Is this what you do in other people's homes?" Neil's mom asked.

I felt a wave of nausea cresting somewhere in the back of my throat, and I swallowed to keep it down. I looked frantically behind me at Neil's door.

"Don't bother going back in," Neil's mom said. "I'll get him up." Her dark hair was pulled into a severe ponytail. Her cheeks were pink against her olive skin, not from blush but from rage.

"Go and sit in the kitchen until I get there," she said, pushing past me and barging into Neil's room.

Oh my G.o.d, I thought. Oh my G.o.d, oh my G.o.d.

With panic fishtailing through my body, I willed my legs to walk me into the kitchen.

A moment later, Neil stumbled in, groggy and a little stooped. I stared at him as he came in, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Sit," Neil's mom said.

Neil sat and stared at the place mat.

"Mrs. Bromes," I started, but she held up a hand to cut me off.

She glared at me, then at Neil. I noticed she was fully dressed, like she'd been up for a while. Had she been sitting up waiting for me to leave? What time did she get up? I wondered, then swallowed. What if our groaning had been what got her out of bed in the first place?

Oh G.o.d.

"If you want to be s.e.xually active," Mrs. Bromes said, interrupting my thoughts and staring straight at me, "you're not going to do it under this roof. You're not going to sneak over here in the night and seduce my son."

My lungs felt suddenly flat. Seduce her son? She had to be kidding. Except she wasn't. Mrs. Bromes was laser-focused on me, like I was the only person in the room.

But then Mrs. Bromes did shift her attention to her son. "Neil, your father and I thought you'd broken up with Aggie. We didn't realize you were still seeing her."

"I'm not," Neil mumbled.

Something holding me to Neil snapped free.

"Then I want this nonsense to end," Mrs. Bromes said. "Right now. Do I make myself clear?"

Neil nodded, but I just sat there.

"Aggie Winchester, do I make myself clear?"

Nothing was clear at that moment. I looked at her, still silent.

"One more time, Aggie. Do I make myself clear?"

The truth was that no, Mrs. Bromes wasn't clear at all. And neither was her son, for that matter. I'd wound up with my heart sliced to pieces all over again because I'd been stupid enough to believe Neil's lies. He didn't want me, he just wanted to see if he could get me. But the worst part was that I think I'd known, deep down, that he was full of s.h.i.t. I just hadn't let myself admit it.

The pink color in Mrs. Bromes's cheeks got deeper.

"That does it," she said. She marched toward the phone, and Neil glared at me.

"Just apologize," he hissed.

I blinked back the tears that wanted to burst forth. "I will not," I whispered, "when you should be the one saying you're sorry."

"I heard that!" Mrs. Bromes hollered, s.n.a.t.c.hing the cordless phone from its cradle and stomping back to the table. Neil shot one last glare at me before Mrs. Bromes was back in our faces.

"Call your mother," Mrs. Bromes said, handing the phone to me.

"What?"

"Call your mother. Tell her where you are, and tell her what you've been doing."

I thought of my mom's recent meltdowns, the way she'd leaned against the counter last night, the stress that the prom drama was clearly causing her.

"No," I whispered, my voice hardly working. "I won't."

"Yes," Mrs. Bromes said, shoving the phone at me. "Yes, you will do this, or I'll d.a.m.n well do it for you."

"You don't understand," I said. "My mom's under a lot of pressure right now."

Mrs. Bromes leered at me. "Oh no, Aggie, I do understand." She flicked her head toward the far end of the kitchen table where Friday's edition of the St. Davis Letter lay. It showed the front page, where yesterday's prom story had run.

PROM UNREST AT ST. DAVIS HIGH SCHOOL.

When today's paper-the Sat.u.r.day edition-hit mailboxes, how much worse would the text be? In part because of the conversation I'd had with Rod yesterday. I turned away from the paper and looked back at Mrs. Bromes.

"Either you call her and tell her where you've been," Mrs. Bromes said, "or I'll call her and tell her. And I'm no expert, but it would seem to me that it might be better coming from you than from me."

I s.n.a.t.c.hed the cordless phone away from her. My breath was coming in uneven gulps. I closed my eyes to try and clear my addled emotions before I dialed.

"Now," Mrs. Bromes insisted. I dialed my home number.

"h.e.l.lo?" my mom answered, half asleep.

"Mom," I said.

"Aggie?"

"Yeah. It's-it's me."

"What time is it?"

"Like, four A.M. or s-something." I kept swallowing so my throat wouldn't come unhinged.

"Are you okay?" My mom sounded fully awake now.

"I'm f-fine. I'm . . ."

"What? What's wrong?"

"M-Mom, I'm over at N-Neil's," I hiccuped. "I got caught over h-here, sleeping in his bed. Mrs. Bromes is right here, and she ma-made me call and tell y-you."

There was a deep silence on the other end.

"Mom?"