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hair day. And if you didn’t want to answer a text, you didn’t—and then later made up an excuse.
    She had even kissed Bran once. In a coffee shop in front of a dozen other patrons. Did that really count as a kiss? Because so far the experience hadn’t been repeated.
    She grinned at Bran. But Bran didn’t grin back. In fact, he barely even looked at her. Her stomach lurched. Had she done something to make him mad?
    After Jon dismissed them, Dimitri ended up talking to Bran in a corner of the room. Alexis didn’t talk to anyone from TIP. Nick didn’t, either, although Alexis guessed he needed it at least as much as Dimitri. Ruby, of course, seemed unfazed.
    Alexis loitered in the corner, watching Bran. His mouth was crimped, his face more serious than she had ever seen it. At one point, he put his arm around Dimitri’s shoulders. His straight black hair fell across his eyes, hiding his expression.
    Ruby came up to her. “Need a ride home?”
    Bran glanced over at them. “I’ve got it, Ruby.”
    Alexis flushed as people turned to look, trying to read between the lines. TIP volunteers weren’t allowed to give rides to people they counseled. Friends—and girlfriends—were different.
    But when Bran was finally done talking to Dimitri, he didn’t even look at her. He just took his keys from his pocket, saying, “You ready?”
    â€œSure.” In silence, they walked out into the parking lot toward his small brown Honda. Was he angry with her?
    â€œIs something wrong, Bran?”
    â€œNo. Of course not.”
    But Alexis heard the lie in his voice.

 
    CHAPTER 9
    NICK
    SUNDAY
    HOT AND BITTER
    On his way out to the parking lot, Nick walked behind Alexis and Bran. What kind of a name was Bran, anyway? It sounded like some boring, healthy cereal. Something that would get stuck between your teeth.
    Neither one of them seemed to even notice that Nick was right behind them. Alexis was holding on to Bran’s arm, her face turned toward him as if he were the sun.
    With her free hand, she reached up and pushed the hair out of Bran’s eyes. Suddenly Nick’s chest hurt, a pain so fierce and sharp it felt like someone had slipped a knife between his ribs and given it a good twist.
    The two of them climbed into Bran’s small brown car. And they still hadn’t seen him. Nick got into his mom’s car and slammed the door.
    Alexis was nice to Nick, sure. Alexis was his friend.
    But that was all.
    Even though he had met Alexis first. Even though they sat together in SAR class every Wednesday night and Alexis saved a place for him if she was there before him. Even though she laughed at his jokes and had admired his drawings.
    Even though Nick had once saved her life.
    But Bran had four inches and forty pounds on Nick. All of it muscle. Plus he was a senior, which meant he was two years older than Nick. And he had his own car, while Nick had a car only if he could wheedle his mom into letting him borrow hers.
    And tonight hadn’t helped advance his case, Nick thought sourly as he took the exit for the freeway. Not when Mitchell had forced him to admit in front of Alexis that he had thrown up.
    Yakking like that had just come out of nowhere. One moment Nick had been looking at Mariana’s leg— oh my God was that white thing really a bone? —and the next his mouth had flooded with saliva. A second later a column of vomit, hot and bitter, had risen up his throat and pushed past the hand he had tried to hold it back with. It had taken all that he had not to fall to his knees.
    After the paramedics had taken over and he had let go of her hand, Nick had realized that his own hand was still wet with either sweat or maybe vomit. Hopefully it had just been sweat. Dimitri had tried to make him feel better. “You did good, Nick. Immediately, you protected her spine. And do not feel bad for the vomiting. It is hard when it is all fresh like