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  It seemed almost strange when I walked out of that room on my own two feet instead of floating out on a cloud. Mason looked a little stunned, like he'd been smacked between the eyes. I worked very hard not to ask him whether he was considering Mr. Zane's offer.

  Drew threw her arms around me the second Mr. Zane and Mr. Langston were gone. "I'm so excited," she said to me. "I knew you could do it. But now that you have, I can tell you my news! I got accepted to Yale last week."

  I looked into her earnest blue eyes and realized something. "I'm such a horrible friend," I said. "And you're the best friend ever."

  She looked down at her black boots. "I didn't want to tell you, not when you didn't get in. But then Mr. Zane called and I thought, it would be so cool if we both went together."

  "You could've told me," I said. "I would've been happy for you."

  "It wasn't fair," she said. "My mom, my grandpa, my uncles, they all went there. They care about dumb stuff like that and it wasn't fair they let me in, but not you. Your grades and SAT score were better."

  I shrugged. "You still could've told me. I would've been happy for you."

  "I know," she said, "I know you would’ve, but I thought maybe if I waited, we could be happy together. And look, I was right."

  Drew hugged me again. I was such an idiot for taking her for granted. When I finally did let go, Mason was gone.

  She and I walked to the cafeteria, but the rest of our classmates had already headed out to the bus. When we reached it, I saw Mason sitting near the back. I squeezed Drew's arm and headed for the back of the bus to see what was going on.

  Mason was big enough to fill up the bench, almost entirely. He had shifted so I was looking at his back.

  I shoved on him. "Hey. Let me in you big ox."

  He turned toward me. "I figured you'd want to sit by Drew, your future roommate."

  I reached down and grabbed his arm and pulled on it, hard. I might as well have been pulling on the bench seat. He didn't budge. "Get up, you big baby."

  He stared at me, sulking for a moment. But then, he stood up and I slipped past him. I could’ve sat on the edge of the seat like I had earlier, but I had done that to talk to Drew and Mason at the same time, and it left half my butt hanging off for the entire ride. This time, I only wanted to talk to Mason.

  I patted the seat next to me. "Sit."

  He did.

  I thought about how he’d taken my hand. Twice. "Why would I want to sit by Drew?"

  He shrugged. "You seemed to have a lot to celebrate earlier."

  He was pouting. Mason, my big, confident partner and world-class swimmer was pouting. I reached up and put my hand on his face. "We have a lot to celebrate."

  He turned away and my hand fell back. "By my calculations, you're better off if I don't take Mr. Zane up on his offer. Full scholarship versus half."

  "You big idiot. I don't care about that. I never expected any scholarship at all to Yale. My mom has saved money for our college funds. I can afford to pay half their tuition, and what I can't afford, I can take out loans for. Stop acting like a meathead and look at me."

  Mason finally turned to face me. What I saw in his eyes surprised me.

  "What are you nervous about?"

  "I can’t go to Yale."

  "Why?" I asked. "You heard Mr. Zane. They have a great swimming program. I bet you'd be their superstar. Actually, they might offer you another partial scholarship! I bet their program needs you way more than UT’s does."

  "It's not about swimming."

  "Then what?" The bus jolted out onto the main road, and I fell against Mason's enormous chest. He wrapped one arm around me, and pulled me back upright. He was so big and so talented, and everyone wanted him. "What could you possibly be worried about?"

  "You're Yale caliber. You should’ve gotten in on your own, without debate. You got into Stanford and Princeton and Duke. And Drew, she got in too."

  I shrugged. "I didn't get into Yale. They rejected me."

  "You probably have perfect test scores. I heard you’re going to be the Valedictorian. It didn’t even occur to me to apply to any of those Ivy League schools."

  "Mason, what are you trying to say?"

  "I only applied to a handful of schools, Lacy. University of Texas, Michigan and Florida."

  "What do those even have in common?" I asked.

  "Texas is the number one swimming school in America. Michigan, California and Florida are next. I didn't apply anywhere on the basis of my scholastics."

  "You're smart Mason, one of the smartest guys I've ever met."

  He turned away again. "Not Ivy League smart. I’m jock smart. I wouldn’t survive at Yale."

  "You're Ivy League smart," I said softly. "I knew that the second we met."

  His head snapped back toward mine. "You believe that?"

  "No," I said. "I don’t believe it. I’ve seen it, and I know it’s true."

  He smiled at me then, a real smile, a warm smile. He put his arm back around me and I curled up against him. I fell asleep a few minutes later, and didn't wake up until we reached the school. Mason and I were the last two people off the bus. He carried all my stuff and his own. He walked me over to my mom's car in the bitter evening cold and loaded my bags into the back. I put the key in and turned it on, pressing the seat heater button immediately.

  "Where's your dad?" I asked.

  "I just texted him," Mason said. "He'll be here in like five minutes."

  "Oh," I said. "Wait in here with me, then."

  Mason climbed into the car next to me. It wasn't much warmer inside, but I wasn't about to drive off and leave him standing out here alone. Ms. Harris was doing better than I could ever remember, but she was already gone, and the bus had already headed for the bus barn. Such a responsible chaperone.

  "What will your parents think about the Yale offer?"

  Mason chuckled. "My dad will be over the moon. He’ll try and force me to take it. He's so bitter now that his baseball career is over. He thinks he wasted his time on baseball and he should’ve done something that would have left him in a better position now, at forty. He basically has to start all over. He's taking online classes to try and get a degree in graphic design. I guess it's embarrassing for him that my mom's supporting us."

  "And your mom?"

  "She’ll probably still want me to go to UT. It's the number one swimming program in the country. She wants an Olympic Medal more than anything. She thinks the endorsements and the accompanying fame will set me up forever. And she said I’ll be smarter than my dad was and I’ll save what I make."

  I think about Mason's looks, his eloquence and I realize his mom's probably right. He'd be an idiot to go anywhere but the place that will get him closest to his gold medal.

  "What do you think?"

  He looked at me for a moment without speaking. Then he said, "I don't know what I think. Before today, I just assumed I'd go to University of Texas."

  "What changed today?"

  "I realized I don't want to be without you in a few months. I don't want to be without you, ever." I had a steering wheel, boxing me in. He sat on the other side of a gear selector from me. It was still so cold that our breath made a fog in front of us. Nothing had gone right, not since the day we met, but it didn't matter, because we were right together. Mason, the strong, absurdly gifted swimmer, and me, the nerdy, hotheaded debater.

  We had so little in common, but I couldn't seem to stop moving toward him, no matter what was in the way. We were both facing forward in our seats, and I thought this had to be the worst place for a kiss in the history of ever, but he leaned toward me, and I turned toward him, and I realized I was wrong. Anywhere we were, that was the best place for a kiss. When his lips met mine, the world exploded all around me. I didn't feel the steering wheel. I didn't feel the cold. I didn't worry about Yale or the University of Texas or the distance between where we were and where I wanted us to be.

  There was only Mason and me. I was filled with
a joy I couldn't contain. The two of us became something more together. Unstoppable. I don't know how long we kissed, but when I finally pulled back, my seat was burning hot, and the windows were steamed instead of frosted. Even then, I didn’t want to stop, but I’d noticed something. Something insistent, something annoying.

  My phone was beeping.

  I felt dazed when I finally sat back in my seat. I clicked the seat heater off, and then I reached for my phone. Thirteen missed calls. Ten voicemails. Fifty text messages.

  What in the world was going on?

  If I could go back in time, would I want to notice those messages before Mason and I kissed? I don't know. I honestly can't say whether it would be better not to have ever had such a perfect moment, or better to have it, knowing it would be utterly ruined seconds later.

  Because when I listened to my messages, that's when I found out. See, my sister Hope had gone to jail, charged with possession of drugs I had selfishly allowed to be placed in her car. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lacy

  I close the laptop and slowly look up toward Dr. Brasher.

  "I've finished right up until the day she died. I won't write anything else until you comply with a reasonable demand."

  "I'm in the middle of a guardianship evaluation here," Dr. Brasher says. "I'm going to need to see what you've written, and then we can talk about what you want."

  "I've spent every single minute I wasn’t in school right here in your office since practically the day it happened," I say. "I need to see her. Not tomorrow, or after you've perused this, or called the police. I want to see her now. Right now."

  "She's in care right now. She can't just drive over here."

  I shake my head. "Then I'll delete everything I've written. I'll smash this laptop to bits if I have to. It’s not like the replacement cost is high. You'll have to tell the Court your opinion without the benefit of my side of things for the last few days. If that's what you want..."

  Dr. Brasher pursed his lips. "Why? Why do you need to see her first?"

  I look down at the laptop. The one on which I've confessed to a felony. Possession of almost ten pounds worth of illegal drugs, and the reason for it. Intent to use illegally acquired prescription drugs. "I need to know what she wants me to do. I need to know what to tell you about the end. I can't screw this up, not again."

  Finally, Dr. Brasher nods. He walks to his desk and picks up the phone. He speaks so softly that I can't hear what he's saying, but after that he sits in his desk and says, "It may be a few minutes. She's not located very close to here."

  I wait. My stomach fills with butterflies. No, not butterflies. More like hornets. I haven't seen her, not since it happened. I don't even know what I'm going to say. I don't know what she wants, or what I want. I honestly can't see a single clear path out of this mess.

  When Hope walks in the door and I see her gorgeous face for the first time in what feels like weeks, but is actually only a few days, I feel my eyes well up with tears. I want to run up to her and hug her tightly. I want to tell her that I know it's all my fault. I want to apologize for everything, for being so selfish, for not taking care of her like a big sister should and for leaving her to deal with my mess. But most of all, I want to tell her I'm sorry that our mother died.

  Because of me.

  Hope’s stuck in foster care now, maybe for quite a while, also because of me.

  I expect her to turn toward me with anger, loathing, or maybe even pity. Instead, when Hope looks at me, she looks as broken as I do. She looks at me with love, sorrow, and maybe even guilt.

  "I'll leave the two of you to talk for a moment," Dr. Brasher says, and for the first time since I stepped into his office, I like him.

  Before I can figure out what to do, Hope rushes toward me and wraps her arms around me. Something in my heart thaws then, and I can breathe for the first time in days. "I'm sorry," I say. "I'm so sorry for everything."

  "No, I'm sorry." Hope finally pulls away and sits down on the sofa. I sit down next to her, and she takes my hands in hers. "I ruined everything. I don't know what I was thinking, spending every single minute at Dave's after that Cypress meet, making you feel guilty, never telling you that Mason liked you, and that he turned me down. Kissing him. I let you be miserable just because I was, and I wanted to hurt you."

  "I'm sorry you were miserable. I never should have stayed up all night before the Alief tournament, or told Jack he could put his drugs in our car... in your car."

  "Who's Jack? I've been wondering where those came from. I knew you couldn’t be selling yourself."

  "If you knew it was my fault, why did you let them think it was you?"

  Hope smiles bitterly then. “It was my fault you were in that mess. I'm sure you only got drugs again because you didn't know how else to win, since you and Mason weren't talking. I knew it was my fault, but that’s not the only reason I did it. I did it because the principal kept going on and on about how bad it would be if I weren't a minor, and I thought, crap. Lacy's not a minor. Thank gosh I still am." She shrugged. "Besides, I'm not the one on my way to the Ivy League."

  I shake my head. "I'm not either, not after all this."

  Hope jumps up from the sofa. "Why not?"

  "How could I be?"

  "Why wouldn't you be? I took the blame. They think they were my drugs. They're just giving me probation. I've been back at school, just like you, only they make me go talk to a counselor during lunch. That's why you haven't seen me there. Which means things are fine for you, right?"

  I grit my teeth. "Yes, they're too fine. Mom committed suicide because you got arrested for my drugs, the drugs I let Jack store in the car. Meanwhile, I get off scot free." I look at the shabby carpet, ashamed to meet her eyes. "I've petitioned to be your guardian. That's why I'm here. I need an evaluation to determine whether I'm fit to be a 'guardian of your person' until you turn eighteen. That's what they call it."

  Hope beams at me. "That would be wonderful! The Boones aren't a bad couple, but I can tell they want to transform me from a criminal element into an upright young lady and it's exhausting. They want to parent me, and they don't get I had a parent, a perfectly wonderful mother."

  Our eyes meet and I can feel tears form in mine. "How did we miss it?" I ask. "How come we didn't know she was depressed?"

  Hope shrugs. "I don't know. I guess it seems obvious now, but I didn't even know it was really something that people had, as like a disease. I thought it just meant they were sad a lot."

  I close my eyes. Dr. Brasher had given me a checklist. Mom had lots of symptoms. Talking about death, lying around doing nothing for days sometimes, debilitating intermittent health problems, which for her was her headaches, and mercurial mood changes. If I'd known what I was looking for, I'd have realized it for sure.

  "We should've figured it out and made her take something. They have medicine for it."

  Hope shakes her head. "She'd never have taken it. I actually wonder whether maybe she knew."

  "What do you mean?" I asked. "In some cases, many cases, the medicines can completely repair the brain chemistry, according to the book Dr. Brasher gave me."

  Hope bites her lip. "You know how she was about any kind of drugs. We never took anything. I guess Dad didn't die of a car accident after all."

  "What are you talking about?"

  She hangs her head. "I should’ve told you. I should've told you that morning we both snuck in, but I was so angry, and I thought maybe you'd been out with Mason. I wonder whether it might have made a difference."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Mason came to the house to wait for you, the night you went to Drew's, the night you stole her mom's pills. Mason waited at the house for a long time, talking to Mom. I don't even know how long. I saw his car, snuck toward the window and heard them talking, so I didn't go inside until later. I kind of listened in for a while first.”

  “You ea
vesdropped? Like, literally, from under the eaves?”

  “I’m not sure what eaves are, but yeah, I sat under the window in the porch swing. Lacy, she told Mason a lot of things, stuff I didn't know. Like how Dad died, and it wasn't in a car accident. He died from a drug overdose, and it wasn’t his first problem with it."

  My mind's spinning at a thousand miles a minute. Drugs? Dad? Mom had never said a word. "Why wouldn't she tell us?"

  "I've thought about that a lot," Hope says. "I think it might have been to spare us at first, or because she was embarrassed. Or because she was worried it would come back to plague us. Like in our rebellious years, if we were curious about Dad, maybe we'd experiment."

  "She was always saying she couldn't bear losing us," I said. "And then I came home with drugs."

  Hope nods. "And then she hears that I'm arrested for drug possession. She hadn’t been doing well for the past week, too. I think maybe it just was the last straw."

  I can't process it. I can't believe it. I knew when I spoke to Jack that morning it was a mistake. I knew I shouldn't have stayed up all night, but it felt like it was my only hope for the future. Then I saw Jack and I thought, hey, what could I lose? People take pills specifically for focus, prescribed by doctors. Manufactured with FDA approval. They weren’t really that bad. It seemed like a tiny risk.

  I figured Mom killed herself because of me and Hope and our fighting, but now I know for sure.