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Chapter 11

Past: Two Years Before the Accident—Eighteen Years Old

My phone vibrates onthe locker room bench inside the IPA. Taylor grabs it before I can stop her and looks at the screen. Her expressive brows arch toward her hairline.

“Who’s Delaney? And why is he talking about some gift and—Hey, I was reading!”

I snatch the phone away from her, my blood thrumming. “None of your business, Lil’ Tay.”

“Dude, I just turned fifteen. Stop calling me little. I’m taller than you.” Taylor crosses her arms over her leotard. “What are you hiding there, and why do you look like you’ve swallowed a whole bucket of red crayons?”

My face flames and I glance away, fighting the urge to look at his text.

We don’t text a lot—Keeper and I—we’re traipsing on a high wire a hundred stories up from the ground and a slight tilt of our bodies will send us plummeting.

Into something more. Do I want something more?

The warmth spreads to my extremities, and suddenly, the tank top I have on feels too constricting.

Yes, I do.

“Sheesh, you should look at yourself. I’ve never seen you look this way…not even with Dayton.” Taylor prances over and tries to grab my phone again.

“Oh my God, stop it!” I squeal, darting away. “And to answer your question, Delaney is a classmate from Broadbent. He’s just helping me move things for college in a few weeks. We’re coordinating schedules.”

The lies pour out of me. It’s silly, falling for your pen pal. If Taylor were the one telling me this, I’d warn her—be careful of strangers. There are a lot of weirdos out there.

“Hm. Not buying it. Unless you want to climb him as payment for his moving services?” A blush creeps up her face. Taylor is a virgin, but she’s very curious.

Little does she know, I’m not experienced on that front either.

“You go get some on your own when you’re old enough. Stop trying to live vicariously through me.”

“I’ll wait for my prince before I do it. My very own Prince Siegfried to my Odette.” She lets out a dreamy sigh, clearly thinking about the white swan and her prince in the famous ballet,Swan Lake.

I look at the clock and tsk. “Don’t you have practice now?”

“Ah crap!” She darts toward the door and hollers back, “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Alexis!” I chuckle as she disappears from view.

Blowing out a breath, I sit down and unlock my phone. Sure enough, a text from him awaits me.

Delaney

I’ve decided on a gift. And I have a confession to make.

I frown, my fingers flying over the keypad.

Alex

You’re a sixty-year-old creep and you’ve been catfishing me all along?

Delaney

Catfishing usually involves photos. We haven’t exchanged any.

Alex

You’re stalling. You better not be a creep.