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I shrugged one shoulder. “It went fine. He bought me a Coke at the drive-thru, and then I helped him learn gas laws—which we had a pop quiz on today at school. He thinks he aced it, thanks to me.”

“Good!” My mom celebrated by taking a long swig and I realized she hadn’t poured a drink for herself in front of us—I suspected that her personal lemonade was spiked. “See, ladies?” she announced, putting her glass down. “This is how it all starts. You help him get good grades, he helps you be popular, and then everything starts to happen.”

She was drunk. I could tell. I glanced at Allie, who was doing her deer-quiet thing—she knew it too. Lacey just looked at my mom like she always did, like she was from another planet.

“Mom, even if we do wind up going out—which we’re not—how many times does going out in high school equal staying together for the rest of your life? It’s unrealistic.”

“Your dad and I met when we were nineteen.”

And look how well that turned out,was on the tip of my tongue, but I resisted saying it as she went on.

“I’m just saying both of you girls need a little more fun. Always studying or watching TV. Need to go out and live a little.”

“Yeah. We do,” Lacey agreed.

I looked at her, and she shrugged. “Isn’t that the point of high school?”

The point of high school for me was to get good enough grades to get the hell away from here—and I knew Lacey agreed, we’d talked about it often enough.

“Precisely,” my mother agreed. She pushed herself back from the bar, logic triumphant, making her way into her bedroom again. Not long after that, we could hear the blare of her TV.

I looked to my little sister. “Allie—you have homework to do?”

“Yeah.”

“Then do it. I need to talk to Lacey some again. Outside.”

I opened up the sliding glass door to our backyard, and pulled Lacey out behind me.

CHAPTER 26

“I’m so sorry about that—she’s so embarrassing.” I whispered, as we crested the hill and started down its far slope, lemonade in hand. “I hate her.”

“At least she’s sane.”

“That’s debatable.”

Razor howled at us, throwing his body against the fence, trying to gnaw away the wood. We found the same grassy spot as last time, where the power lines stretched overhead like shining train tracks. I waited for a minute trying to think of the right thing to say, and when I couldn’t I just asked, “Danny?”

The distant look on her face toughened into an angry mask. “Yeah. Danny.”

“Did he do it? I mean, he’s saying he did.”

“Yeah.” She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I don’t remember everything—but in the blurs—some colors, and his voice—it sounds like him. Plus, if you had to poll the student body about ‘which baseball team member was most likely to rape’, I think everyone would agree. It makes sense, you know?”

“But now that you know it’s him—can’t you go to the cops?”

“The police that I just told I wasn’t raped? The ones I told to ignore everything?”

“But how do they know you did that for sure?”

“Because I freaking told them.” She unlocked her phone and brought up ZB before handing it to me and everything new on it flooded my mind before I could read.

I did what you asked.

A long lag.

Thanks. For calling off the cops. And for being a good fuck.