"Calling Connor?" My dad asked, walking out of his room in his running clothes. He should have left Atlanta by 8 a.m.

"Yeah, he didn't answer though." I dropped my phone on the table and went to the kitchen to find some breakfast.

"He may already be on the road. Probably no signal."

"Maybe."

"Your mom ran to the store, I'll be back later," he said and walked out the door.

Alone in the house, I decided to put on my bathing suit and hit the beach. Connor would be here soon enough. About an hour later, my mother appeared on the walkway and walked down to the sh.o.r.e. She wasn't carrying her beach bag or wearing her swimsuit.

"What's up?" I asked. She had a funny expression on her face. "Is something wrong?"

She sat down in the sand by my feet. "I just heard from Connor's mother."

"Heard what?"

"He's not coming." She frowned and placed her hand over mine. "Connor was arrested last night."

"Arrested? For what?"

"He was caught vandalizing a building downtown."

"Vandalizing." It wasn't a question. I knew what she meant.

"Graffiti painting."

"Downtown?"

"Yeah." Her hair flew around her head from the breeze. "He's in pretty big trouble. I think he's still in lock-up."

My parents were both lawyers before they quit and opened the shop. My mother definitely had on her legal face right now.

"What does that mean? How long will he be there?

"I'm a.s.suming he has to have a hearing in 48 hours. He should be out by tomorrow. I doubt they will hold him longer since his parents will take him home, but this isn't his first offense." She studied me. "You don't look terribly surprised by any of this."

"No, I am," I lied. "I think I'm in shock. Not to mention more than a little angry." My insides churned with conflict. Scared and furious at the same time. He knew better than this, and he risked it right before this trip. Angry tears filled my eyes.

"He'll be okay," my mom said, mistaking my tears for sadness.

I moved away from her and stood up. "I'm sure he will. I'm going to take a walk."

"You want company?"

"No, thanks."

I left her behind sitting on the hot, white sand. Connor had a lot to explain when I returned home. All this tip-toeing around his problems and issues had to stop. The meds, Charlotte, everything. There was no doubt in my mind that he and I would deal with all of this when we met again.

The first text came on the car ride home. I picked up my phone, knowing exactly who it was before I even looked. I slid the lock and checked the screen. Sure enough, Connor's name popped up, along with his face from his photo I had locked in.

Sorry I tossed the phone on the empty seat. Sorry wasn't enough.

We had only been home for an hour or so when my mom came up to my room. She came in just as I tossed a pile of dirty clothes from my suitcase into the hamper. "I'll take these to the laundry room in a minute," I said.

"Connor's downstairs."

I balled up a shirt and threw it at the basket. The red and green shirt missed and sailed behind my desk chair. "I don't want to see him."

"I know you don't," she said. "But I think you should."

I looked at her in surprise. "You're defending him?"

"No, but I believe in dealing with things head-on."

I started to laugh and rolled my eyes. "History has proven you do not believe that." If there was one thing my mother and her family were good at, it was pushing things under the rug.

"Just talk. I don't want fighting and crying and avoiding phone calls. Break up with him. Or don't. Make things clear. It's up to you. But avoiding him isn't going to solve anything."

"Fine," I said. I picked up my entire suitcase and dumped it all in the laundry basket before following her down the stairs.

"He's on the porch. He didn't want to come inside in case you didn't want to see him." We stopped in the foyer. I hesitated by the door and she asked, "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No. I'm okay."

She gave me a quick hug. "Growing up stinks."

I tried to smile, but couldn't and just opened the door. Connor sat on the porch swing, rocking it back and forth with his long legs. He jumped up when he saw me.

"Hey."

I did not reply.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The purple bags under his eyes looked worse than before and his eyes were wide and intense.

"I can't believe you did that."

"It was stupid. Completely stupid. I don't even know what I was doing." He was being kind of weird. Hyper.

"Right. Like tagging private property isn't against the law. That carries serious jail time. I can't believe you would risk everything for a rush."

I sat on the swing hoping he'd join me and calm down a little, but he continued pacing.

"I'm serious, I didn't know what was happening. One minute I'm drawing on my bed, and the next I'm being pushed face first into a brick wall. Ask the cops. I didn't put up any kind of fight."

"What are you talking about? You expect me to believe you transported down there or something?" I started to laugh, even though there was nothing funny about this. "You know I'm open-minded, but I'm not dumb. It would have been nice if you had waited until after our trip."

He stopped pacing and kneeled before me, reaching for my hands which I crossed over my stomach.

"I'm serious. I was on my bed. Sketching. My bag was packed. I went to bed early so I could get up and get down there. I didn't want to waste another minute. Then I just got really inspired. This drawing. It was amazing. Wings and red and I couldn't wait to show it to you. I admit it, I was planning on painting it down at the ruins when I got back, but not that night. And not on the side of some real estate office downtown. Trust me on that."

He ran his hands over his head, making his hair as wild as his eyes. "I want to," I told him.

"Then believe me."

We stared at one another for a minute and I considered just forgiving him. Telling him what he wanted to hear. Instead I said, "I know about the meds."

His back straightened. "What meds?"

"Your meds. You aren't taking them. And you haven't been for weeks."

"How?" he narrowed his eyes. "You went through my stuff?"

"G.o.d, Connor," I said, jumping off the swing. "It's not about how I found out. You can't even deny it. Did you stop because of her? You did, didn't you?" He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "Don't lie to me," I said and he clamped it back shut before speaking.

"I know she's been trying to contact you. How? Because she told me when she showed up in my room the other night. I don't know what she needs, but that girl isn't finished with this side of the world."

That got his attention. "You saw her?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me? We had a deal. We tell each other when we see them." The frantic look from before was turning increasingly manic.

"Water tower," I said.

He whispered back, "Water tower."

"I was going to tell you. At the beach. Where you never showed because your skinny a.s.s was locked up. Again."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing of importance."

"Tell me. What did she say?"

"Nothing. She was confused or lost or something. She said she couldn't reach you, but you already know that. There's no way she would come to me first." I stared at him. "Unless you're both lying."

"I haven't seen her!" he yelled. "What did she look like?"

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, but I knew he was dead serious. "You really can't see her? Even off the meds?"

"No, but..."

"But what?" I asked. He stared at his shoes. It didn't matter. I could see the truth written all over his guilty face. He had secrets about all of this he refused to share.

"Whatever. You need to leave."

"No, I need to know everything that happened between you two." He tightened his grip my arm, but I twisted loose.

"Go home. Go to bed." I brushed the angry tears off my face.

He shook his head. "I don't want to go home. Not alone."

"Then you should have thought about that before all of this." He stepped toward me again. "Don't make me call my dad."

"You wouldn't."

"I would," I told him. "Look Connor, I don't know what's going on with you, but that's because you won't tell me. You've shut me out and I'm flying solo over here. But I can promise you one thing," I said, grasping onto the door k.n.o.b, "you need to get yourself together. See the doctor, listen to your parents or otherwise you're going to end up back in the hospital."

He stood across from me stone-faced, but I could see the red rims of his eyes.

I stepped into the house and said, "You're also going to end up alone."

Upset over the way things went the night before, the next day, I hovered around Connor's front porch, trying to gather the nerve to ring the doorbell. The outside of his house was nicer than the inside of mine. The decor invited a guest to stay for a while. They had a porch swing like we did, but it was ma.s.sive, covered in plush pillows. I parked on the street before I covertly walked around back to see if his car was there. I cursed when I saw the ratty blue car parked next to the carriage house. Rationally, I knew I should just go to the back door, but I had never been here uninvited. Instead, I chickened out and now cowered by a potted plant near the door, freaking out with each pa.s.sing minute.

I raised my hand to knock on the large red-painted door, but just before I made contact it swung open.

"Emma?" I said, in relief, seeing the little girl's face.

"Hi, Jane."

I wasn't expecting her to be the one to open the door. I swallowed. "Is your brother home?"

She frowned and shook her head.

"Oh. Well, do you know when he'll be back?"

"Um," she floundered, her hands twisting.

Her awkwardness made me self-conscious. I should have called. I'd a.s.sumed he would be here and we could talk out our fight from last night. The way we left it made me uneasy. And worried. But I guess he didn't want to see me. "It's okay. I'll come back later."

I turned to leave, but Emma called her mother anyway. I walked back to my car, brushing the hot tears off my face. I wasn't ready for this. The rejection. Before I made it to the sidewalk, I heard Mrs. Jacobs calling my name and her sandal-clad feet slapping on the driveway.

"Jane, wait," she called.

I stopped and waited. I couldn't exactly walk away from his mother no matter how hurt I felt.

She approached me and I could tell she was taking in my tears. To my surprise, she pulled me into a hug.

"Oh, honey. I was going to call you."