NOTE: for anyone having trouble with the chapters (sentences are incomplete/sections are being repeated), try removing the book from your library and adding it again! everything looks fine on my end, so i think that will resolve the issue! thank you and enjoy xx

MORNING COMES AFTER a night of staring at the dark ceiling, wide awake. I only allowed myself to fall asleep in short bursts, jerking awake before I could completely drift into subconsciousness.

When it's finally an acceptable time to get out of bed, I eagerly sit up, a strong twinge pulling at the newly stitched area of my side. My fingers graze over it absentmindedly, remnants of the nightmare still floating around in my brain. My nose is blocked up, my eyes watery, and I assume I have my activities in the rain yesterday to thank.

After dressing, I head downstairs, expecting to fix myself some breakfast in solitude. Instead, I find Audrey.

She's sitting at the island, eating a bowl of granola and yogurt, already showered and dressed, looking fresher than I've seen her in a while. I can't even remember the last time I saw her outside of her bedroom. She looks up when I enter, giving me a smile.

"Morning," she greets, looking a little sheepish under my gaze.

"Morning," I echo slowly, voice lower and more hoarse than I expect, eyebrows furrowing as I go to open the fridge. "I didn't expect to see you up and about this early."

She gives a casual shrug, though she looks down. I take out a jug of juice, pouring it into my glass, before taking a seat next to her. "It was good to talk to you yesterday," she confesses. "It made me feel a little better."

I give her a relieved smile, grateful that her spirits have perked up. "I'm glad. You look great."

"Thank you," she says sincerely, her eyes running over my own appearance, before her face clouds over in concern. I try to look away, but she catches my chin in her hands, examining my features. "I wish I could say the same about you. You kind of look like you got hit by a bus."

Choking out a pitiful sounding laugh, I pull out of her grasp gently, her concern making me feel both warm inside and guilty, the same tug I feel whenever she's nice to me. There's a part of me that wishes she still hated me, wishes we still didn't get along so it would make all of this easier. At least I've severed my ties with Parker now, and it's one less thing to worry about it.

"Gee, thanks," I say wryly.

She holds her hands up in surrender, raising her eyebrows. "Hey, I'm not judging. I've looked even worse lately." She pauses, frowning slightly. "Is everything okay though?"

"I'm fine," I lie, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just didn't get much sleep, and my head feels like it's full of rocks."

She blinks. "Yeah, that doesn't sound fine." Reaching over, she places a hand on my back, rubbing it gently. "Breakups are the worst," she murmurs sympathetically.

Feeling restless, I hop down from my perch on the stool, taking my glass to the sink and rinsing it out. With my back to her, I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. Her mention of my relationship reminds me of Mason's words to me last night, demanding that I reconcile with Dylan. The thought of it all causes my stomach to twist anxiously. I need answers. I don't know how he expects me to trust him blindly.

"I'm going to quit," Audrey suddenly announces, a touch of nervousness to her voice, snapping me out of my reverie, and I turn around to frown at her.

"What?"

She reaches up, tucking some of her hair behind her ear and biting her lip. "I'm going to quit my job at Antonio's today. I can't... I can't see him. That's too much for me," she says in defeat, shaking her head.

My heart sinks. Her whole life is changing because of my stupid mistakes and lack of judgment.

"Do you have to quit?" I ask, trying to reason with her. "Couldn't you explain the situation and ask to not work the same shifts as him?"

She shakes her head, remaining firm. "Even being there is too hard. It's the place we met, the place we fell in love. And now it's ruined."

"I'm really sorry," I say sincerely, walking over to her and looping my arms around her shoulders. "This sucks."

Laughing bitterly, she sighs. "You're telling me. But I think it will be good, having a new start and all."

I release her, stepping away as she stands up, plastering a smile on her face again, and it makes me wonder how many of her smiles are false. She always does her best to put on a brave face, and it makes me both admire and pity her at the same time.

"Anyway," she says, "I'm going to drive over there this morning so I can give you a ride to school if you want."

"Sure," I reply, nodding and smiling meekly, "thanks."

Audrey exits the kitchen to finish getting ready, but I stay behind a little while longer, trying to convince myself that both of our lives are better without Parker White in them.

✘✘✘

Getting out of Audrey's car and stepping onto the pavement of the school's front walkway feels scarily reminiscent of my first day back after returning from the hospital. The curious glances and whispers are still there, that hasn't changed, though they've lowered the intensity a great deal, and I can ignore them if I really try. But today, it feels harder. Maybe it's because I've decided to take Mason's advice into consideration, and that means I'm going to have to speak with Dylan, Zoe, and James again after what feels like a long mutual silence.

The nightmare I had last night doesn't help either, as I know I'm about to come face to face with the boy whose face is starting to haunt me. Even the thought of him makes my heart race.

Pulling the heavy door open, I cross the threshold of Pender Falls High, taking a deep breath. I begin to walk toward my locker, my legs becoming shakier with each step, and I try to keep my breathing consistent, and stay calm.

I see a familiar figure in my periphery, and I look in that direction inconspicuously, locking gazes with Mason. He stands at the other end of the hallway, his dark hair spilling over his forehead slightly, and other students mill about in front of him, unaware of our silent conversation. His eyes are prying, looking for an answer to the unspoken question floating between us. He lifts his chin a fraction of an inch, eyes shifting in the direction of the infamous threesome standing by Zoe's locker, before shifting back to me. Swallowing, I nod discreetly, and he seems satisfied with that answer.

Running my sweaty palms down the length of my jean-clad thighs, I head over to them, attempting to maintain some semblance of my composure.

James is in the middle of saying something that has Dylan clutching his side in laughter, and Zoe rolling her eyes. They notice my approach before I reach them, their good humour dying out, being replaced by guarded looks of distrust. Dylan's eyebrows furrow as I walk over to him, and my pulse multiplies tenfold as I conjure up an image of him from the nightmare, a crazed look to his eyes as he brandished a knife. They're silent by the time I stand before them, waiting expectantly.

My heartbeat becomes erratic as I fumble for words, but it feels as though my throat has closed up. I blink frantically, trying to shove the flashbacks of the dream to the back of my mind. The silence between us grows, and Zoe raises her eyebrow dubiously.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out, and my face feels increasingly hot.

Dylan takes a slow step toward me, holding out his hand. "Allie—"

His voice is all it takes for me to lose my last shred of sanity, and I back away, turning on my heel and making for the nearest exit, ignoring Mason's eyes on me once again. The first bell rings, and I push my way through the crowd going in the opposite direction, my hands quickly finding the door to the girls' room and pushing it open. My chest rises and falls rapidly, and I head straight for a stall, locking myself inside.

Closing the lid of the toilet seat, I sit on top of it, sliding my fingers into my hair. I thought I could do it. I thought I could face him again, but after the nightmare—which may not even be real—being in the same space as him is terrifying. Even the sound of his voice is enough to make my skin crawl. Mason clearly has too much faith in me; I can't even stand in front of him for longer than a few seconds, much less ask him to get back together. It's just not happening.

If he's really the one who did this to me, the one who plunged a knife into my side in the middle of a dark forest, I don't even want to look at him anymore. The memory of every time he's touched me makes my stomach twist with nausea, and I place a hand to my lips, trying to keep from vomiting.

I hear the door to the bathroom swing open again, causing me to freeze, my eyes widening, and I quickly tuck my legs up onto the toilet seat, not wanting anyone to know I'm in here. Looking to the floor, I see a pair of expensive shoes clicking along the tile, and I have a sinking feeling I know exactly who it is. The feet stop in front of several stalls, as the person looks inside.

"Allie?" Zoe finally calls, and I hold my breath. "You in here?"

Swallowing, I close my eyes, bracing my hands against the cool sides of the stall, trying to remain upright. The last thing I need right now is to topple over and make her aware of my presence. I can't face her. I can't face any of them.

She walks slowly, stopping in front of the closed door to my stall, and my heart constricts, sending a silent prayer up to the heavens that she'll just go away and leave me alone. She sighs, turning away, and through the cracks between the door, I can the back of her blonde head as she checks her reflection in the mirror, pulling out a tube of red lipstick, sliding it over her lips effortlessly.

Pursing her lips, she primps her hair, before walking out. Only when the door closes behind her do I let myself breathe properly again, my shoulders relaxing. I lower my feet, letting them rest on the floor once more, and run a hand through my hair as the second bell rings.

There's no way I can go to class in this state. Besides, I don't want to risk seeing any of them in the hallway in between periods.

I figure my best bet is to wait things out here until lunch, when I can hopefully make it out undetected and find Mason. He'll most likely be angry with me after the stunt I just pulled, and for failing to follow his instructions, but I want to try to get more answers out of him. The only way I can even consider listening to him is if I know everything he does, and everything that went down the night I got attacked.

Settling in, I slide my backpack off my shoulders, putting it on my lap and resting my head on top of it. I briefly consider using this time to catch up on some much needed sleep, but my brain is way too wired and I'm afraid to close my eyes for too long, worried I'll be sucked back into the nightmare yet again. That's the last thing I need right now, especially if I want to stay open to Mason's plan.

There has to be a reason he wants us to get back together, and I know that reason extends far beyond trivial high school drama, since he made it into a matter of life and death. The intensity of his eyes has stuck with me, not allowing me to dismiss his words before taking them seriously first.

The morning passes by achingly slowly, without classes or teachers to distract me. Several times I consider bringing out my homework and getting a start on it, but I know there's no way I would be able to focus anyway.

Several girls come in and out of the bathroom in between classes, all of them gossiping, or whining about too many assignments, or lamenting over some boy not liking them back. I wish briefly that my life were as simple as theirs; that the most I had to worry about was waiting for a boy to call me, instead of what looks like attempted homicide.

When the lunch bell rings, I feel a rush of anxiety. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself, knowing I'm going to have to make a break for it in the hallway if I don't want to be noticed by anyone, and if I want to catch Mason before he leaves for lunch, which he usually does. With slightly trembling hands, I unlock the stall, stepping out into the empty bathroom, casting a glance over my shoulder before stepping out into the hall.

There are people everywhere, heading to their lockers to put things away, then to the cafeteria to grab lunch. My gaze darts around frantically, both trying to spot Mason, and keep an eye out for Dylan and the rest of them. I see neither the former nor the latter, so I begin to head toward the exit, adjusting the strap of my backpack, thinking my best option is to check the parking lot and see if Mason's car is there.

I'm almost to the door, looking surreptitiously over my shoulder every few seconds, when I think I spot James a distance behind me, causing my eyes to widen. He notices me, a smile beginning to light up his face, and my breath catches slightly as I pick up my pace, trying to make it out of the building before he can get anywhere near me.

Finally, I burst through the door, feeling relieved when the uncharacteristic sunlight warms my skin. I doubt James cares enough to actually follow me outside. Squaring my shoulders, I walk toward the parking lot, trying to find a car that resembles the one Mason had idling outside of my house last night. I locate it near the back, and head in that direction, grateful that he hasn't appeared to have left yet.

Several people give me curious looks as I reach the vehicle, and I try to act as though this is a normal thing, tucking some hair behind my ear and leaning against the passenger door. I work to control my facial expression in an attempt to look less panicked and more casual, brushing away tendrils of hair as the wind blows them into my face. Keeping an eye on the entrance to the school, I watch for Mason, knowing he'll probably come out shortly.

After a short while of waiting, my attention is drawn back to the door as a familiar figure exits, and I feel both relieved and nervous at the sight of Mason walking toward me. It takes a second for him to register my presence, and when he does, he looks mildly irritated, causing my cheeks to heat up, though I remain rooted in place. I need answers, I don't care if that annoys him.

I swallow as he approaches me, and he doesn't say anything as he reaches around me, unlocking the car and putting us in incredibly close proximity. I stare at the side of his face, his expression stoic as ever, before his eyes flicker to mine, catching me off guard. Even though we're outside, it feels like we're in an enclosed space with little room to move, and it makes my heart race.

"Get in," he tells me in a low voice, and I obey, moving past him and heading to the passenger's side.

Once we're both inside, he pulls out of the parking lot, and I question why I feel safer in his presence than I have all morning.

✘✘✘

"Are you hungry?"

Mason poses the question after pulling into the parking lot of a fast food joint, and it catches me off guard for two reasons. The first being that he's actually thinking about my needs and not being a total ass for once, and the second being that he's brought me to a public place. I turn to him, meeting his expectant eyes, and I feel my eyebrows pulling together in a frown.

"You aren't worried that someone will see us together?" I ask, looking at the patrons on the other side of the window, before bringing my gaze back to him.

He shakes his head, turning the key in the ignition to shut the car off. "No one from school comes here at this time of the day. It's too far out."

Without waiting for any further words from me, he exits the vehicle, and I sigh, doing the same. I have to admit, I feel a lot more at ease with some distance between me and the school. It felt suffocating there, whereas here, there's actually air to breathe, even if it smells like greasy food and deep fryers. I follow Mason inside, and we order moments later.

The cashier tells us the total, and I swing my backpack around, unzipping it to rifle through and look for my wallet, before I feel Mason's hand on my arm. I look at him in surprise.

"I've got it," he tells me smoothly, and I still my movements, zipping up my backpack and nodding meekly.

After we collect our food, I find myself glancing in his direction every few seconds. This is the kindest he's been to me so far—the majority of our interactions are aggravating and confusing—and the easiness now makes me suspicious. We take a seat at a table near the window, and I begin to pick at my food self-consciously, aware of his gaze intent on my face. I wait for him to bring up what happened this morning, how I ran away like a deer in the headlights and made a fool of myself, but he doesn't.

Instead, he asks, "Did you get any sleep last night?"

I bark out a humourless laugh, shaking my head. "Is that a joke? Absolutely not."

His face clouds over in a frown, in a look of what appears to be sympathy, and I raise my eyebrows, wondering what happened to the boy I spoke with last night, since the one in front of me feels completely different.

Narrowing my eyes, I lean back against my seat. "You're acting weird," I comment bluntly.

One of his dark eyebrows raises. "What do you mean?"

"You're actually being nice to me," I elaborate, and his lips curve up into a smirk, though it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says, sighing and grabbing hold of his drink, taking a sip. "I've been an asshole. It was misdirected anger. You didn't deserve that."

I stay silent, thrown off by the unexpected apology, feeling heat rush to my face. When he meets my eyes again, I look down, focusing on the container of French fries in front of me.

"You just don't understand how high the stakes are, and it's frustrating," he confesses.

I look up, chewing on the inside of my lip. "Then tell me."

He regards me quietly for several moments, looking at though he's internally warring with himself, so I press on. "I'll be more inclined to do as you say if I know why I'm doing it," I tell him, my voice firm as I raise an eyebrow. "You can't expect me to blindly trust you, I can't trust anyone right now. Enough with the cryptic answers. Tell me something real."

Mason holds my gaze awhile longer, the sharpness of his features seeming to soften as his jaw relaxes. I try to convey how important this is with my eyes, and every other part of my expression. It seems as though he's going to say something, and I brace myself, but instead, he sighs, checking his watch, causing his sleeve to shift as he lifts his arm.

"There's not enough time to explain everything now," he says, sounding defeated. "We need to get back. But I promise I will. Tonight."

My eyes drop to the watch on his wrist, then further to an irregularity on his skin, barely visible above his sleeve. Eyebrows furrowing, I reach forward, gently pushing the sleeve down the rest of the way, revealing an ugly scar that trails down the length of his forearm. It looks like a painful injury, and my frown deepens, my gaze flickering back to his face in concern.

"What happened?" I ask, the fabric of his shirt still between my fingertips.

His mouth curves up in a bitter smile, and the sight of him smiling is such a rarity that I'm distracted momentarily. "I got it on the same night you got yours," he explains, raising an eyebrow, and my eyes widen. "Still don't trust me?"