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I make a bit of an effort to catch up with my friends, but the crowd of people crushing through the doors makes my heart jump.

I hang back. Rita turns around, looking for me, and I wave at her to go on ahead.

I take a few steps back, out of the stream, and concentrate on breathing steadily.

I might feel more whole—but the panic and claustrophobia are still there, barely hidden under the surface.

“Aren’t you going in?” Rhue’s voice crashes into me like a wave of ice water and I jump.

“Ack! I mean—hi.”

He tilts his head slightly. “You okay, Maddie?”

“I’m okay.”

He watches me intently for a moment. “Hey--I hear Farnsworth is an incomprehensible genius. Want to join me for dinner tonight and translate my notes for me?”

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “I’m pretty sure you can keep up. You can’t play dumb with me, Rhue. I was your tutor.”

“My point exactly,” he says with a grin. “You already know how to teach me.” He leans forward, gazing into my eyes. My heart races, certain for a moment that he’s going to kiss me—but then he draws away with my phone in his hand, having slipped it out of my bookbag.

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself,” he says as he fiddles with the screen for a moment. He hands the phone back, flashing the screen at me. He’s added himself to my contacts, complete with cheesy headshot. “Text me if you want to save a poor jock from academic probation.”

He flashes me a parting grin and disappears into the auditorium.

I stand there for another moment, stunned.

Is this his way of extending an olive branch, or does he have some kind of elaborate revenge waiting for me?

I hate that I can’t tell anymore. I shove my phone back into my bag and file in after the last few straggling students, then make my way over to Cameron’s perfect seats.

“Took you a minute,” Rita says, giving me a suspicious look. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I tell her, putting the problem of Rhue aside for the moment. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Farnsworth begins his lecture, and for a short while I am enraptured.

He really is very good. But the question of whether to have dinner with Rhue or not keeps creeping around the corners of my mind, distracting me, taking something from my enjoyment.

It annoys me to an irrational degree, seeming like just one more thing that family can’t allow me to have.

I know my reaction is uncalled for, but I can’t help it.

Finally, I pull out my phone and send him a text.

Okay. Dinner it is. Send me the address, I’ll be there at 6.

His reply is a single word: YAY!!!

I shake my head, smiling. How he can go from such an intimidating creep to such an adorable dork with the flick of a switch is baffling. I should probably take it as a red flag—but we’ll call it yellow for now.

Satisfied with my decision, I settle in to enjoy the remainder of Farnsworth’s lecture.

Later, after classes have finished for the day, I start to second-guess myself.

He hasn’t sent me an address, he hasn’t even texted me again, and I’m supposed to be wherever it is I’m supposed to be in a couple hours.

Paranoia curls around my mind, whispering that Rhue might be just like his father and I can choose not to go.

Simply say no. Bury the memory of him under a bridge.

If I never learn from my mistakes, I’ll never stop making them.

But then again—he was just as upset about what he read in his mom’s diary as Laura was. If he had the same intentions, wouldn’t he have brushed it all off? Maybe he’s finally ready to talk to me about everything.

I go back and forth with myself about it for a while.

Eventually, I work up the nerve to text him.

Not ready to commit to any decisions yet, I simply ask him for the address—then I wait.

And wait. And wait some more. My stomach twists a little more with every passing second, my anxiety rising until my nerves feel ready to snap.

When my phone rings, I jump, stifling a scream. It’s Rhue.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he says. “Felt a little rude to cancel over text, but I just got a call and I’ve got to drive to Rochester.”

My heart sinks. “Is Laura okay?”

“She’s fine,” he reassures me quickly. “It’s something Dad wants to talk to me about. I think he’s going to try to buy me out again.”

“Buy you out—of what?” It occurs to me that I don’t know much about the family dynamics outside of the horrifically dysfunctional parts.

“I’ve got some sweet properties in the middle of downtown.

Bought them with my inheritance from Mom.

The previous owners refused to sell to Dad because, well, to put it simply, they hate him.

Can’t imagine why, he’s such a sweet guy.

” They dry sarcasm in his voice makes me grin.

“Anyway, they went so far as to draw up a contract that states if I ever sell the properties to Dad or any of his companies, that the previous owners can sue me for the market value of those properties. Dad’s been trying to wriggle around that for ages.

He probably thinks he’ll get more votes if he has more of a presence in that district—but that’s all beside the point.

The point is, I gotta head out now and won’t be able to hang. ”

I’m more relieved than I’d like to admit. “That’s okay,” I tell him. “Say hi to Laura for me.”

“Sure thing. Later, Madison.”

“Goodbye.”

I feel really gross about Rhue continuing to negotiate business deals with his father now that he knows what actually happened.

It’s silly to feel betrayed. But they’re family.

Of course they’re going to have to speak to each other.

It’s just that when I imagine it, all I can see is the two of them chuckling over how easy it is to touch my body, how simple to slide between my legs.

Bile rises forcefully in my throat and I do everything in my power to settle myself. My phone pings a few times while I’m dealing with the nausea, so I check it as soon as I’m feeling better. It’s Lindsey.

Sorority party. You in?

Fuck it. I’m in, I reply. If I’m going to be suppressing horrible memories and invasive thoughts all night, I might as well get some liquid assistance.