Page 40 of Room to Breathe

“That sucks.”

“It was my favorite. And theyweresigned.”

I cringed. That was my fault too. Her borrowing that particular series. But he could’ve said no. He should’ve said no. “Never loan out your favorite things,” I said, which was a bratty thing to say.

He watched me pace for a few minutes, then his eyes went back to the book on the floor. “Why did you check outthatbook?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“You don’t know?”

“Maybe the same reason you’re listening to my playlist,” I said.

His eyes locked on mine.

“It looked good,” I said, which was basically the reason he’d used for listening to my music.

“Right,” he said, and went back to writing in the binder.

“It was due like two months ago. I wonder what my late fee is.”

“Ms. Garcia is cool. Just tell her you forgot.”

“No teacher is cool to me anymore,” I said. That’s what happened when you talked back more and stopped getting good grades.

He gave a tight nod.

“Seriously, you can read it. It’s making me sleepy.”

“You don’t want to be tired?” he asked. “Why don’t you sleep?”

“It’s too early.” And I hadn’t had the nightmare in a while, theone where black-clad men broke down my door and surrounded me. The one that always made me wake up in a cold sweat. But knowing my luck, I’d have it here when Beau was wide awake, observing me. If I was going to sleep in this bathroom, which was a big if, we’d be sleeping at the same time.

“Maybe it’s not early,” he said. “It could be one o’clock in the morning for all we know.”

“I don’t think it is.” I couldn’t explain why, but it didn’t feel that late. The air coming in through the still-open window wasn’t cold enough or something. I did some more high-knee walks.

“Neither do I.” He looked toward the door. “I can’t believe nobody is coming for us.”

“Do you share your location with anyone?” I asked.

“My parents, but they won’t look. They rarely wait up for me.”

“So in the morning? When they realize you’re not home?”

“More like in the afternoon. They’ll think I’m sleeping in.”

“You don’t sleep in.”

“Sometimes I do. And Brady probably has baseball practice in the morning anyway, so they won’t look.”

“I thought your mom made you get up no later than nine and do your chores and be ready for the day.”

“She’s compromised for Saturdays.”

Mrs. Eubanks, letting go of some control. Surprising. “Bad timing,” I said.

But that meant we could be here until tomorrow afternoon? No, we couldn’t be here until tomorrow afternoon. Tomorrow afternoon would be too late. My mom needed my letter tonight. Tomorrowmorningat the very latest.Then why aren’t you writing it, Indy? Why did you trade the binder for the book?Because I couldn’tthink of anything to write. And I didn’t want to admit what that meant. It meant nothing. I was going to write it. I had all night.