My punishment didn't seem so bad since I had no desire to speak to or see anyone. Unfortunately, I still had to go to school and Mom wasn't letting me skip unless there was arterial blood.

I'd spent most of Sunday examining every inch of Rose's picture and comparing it to the picture of Elizabeth from the news article. No matter how much I didn't want to believe it, they were, in fact, the same person.

The last time I pulled out the article I broke down in tears. This time it didn't happen. I was numb to it. It didn't feel real. Like at any moment I'd be jolted awake to find it was only some sick and twisted nightmare.

I mean, what are the odds of me falling for the brother of one of the crash victims?

As I dragged myself through my morning routine, the possibility of none of it being real seemed highly unlikely.

The bus ride to school, which usually took fifteen minutes without traffic, felt like a five minute drive. Not nearly enough time to go through my options.

There was the obvious choice of being honest and upfront. Then there was my usual method of running. That seemed less painful than the rip-the-bandage-off method.

I made him a promise though. No more running.

It took every bit of my energy to hold on to that when he called out my name. No more running.

"You're still alive," he said, as I turned to face him. He wore a smile on his face that I didn't want to ruin. "I guess your mom didn't catch you sneaking back in?"

I shook my head, afraid that if I opened my mouth, everything I'd been holding back would come flowing through.

"Oh," he exclaimed as we navigated the bustling school hallway. "Did I leave my—"

I whipped his wallet out of my sweater pocket before he could finish his sentence.

"Thanks." He slipped it into his back pocket. I was all too aware of him giving me a concerned look out of the corner of his eye. He knew something was up. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Did that sound as squeaky as it did in my head? I needed to take the conversation away from the topic of me. "How's Vivian?"

"She's good," he said, slowly, his gaze still lingering on me. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Try looking me in the eye and saying that."

I had to tell him. There was no way I'd be able survive keeping it secret. It was easier before because he wasn't directly linked to the accident. Now that I knew it affected him too, I couldn't smile in his face like everything was okay.

"Actually," I said, pulling him aside to avoid the traffic of students. That's when I saw it, the flyer for the fashion shoe taped to the wall. Nerves could be an easy explanation for my weird behavior. Besides, school wasn't the best setting for the serious conversation we had to have.

"It's the fashion show," I said. "It's just around the corner and my nerves are getting to me."

He looked relieved as he let out a small laugh. "You got nothing to worry about," he assured me, placing his hand on my cheek. "The show is going to kick ass and not just because I'm one of the models."

I heard what he said, but the words didn't register as I glanced down at the tattoo on his wrist. The bright red rose made my stomach drop.

He placed his other hand on my opposite cheek, leaving me no choice but to meet his eyes.

"You're really freaking out about this, huh?" I nodded. His hands fell from my face to my shoulders and trailed down my arms until our fingers were intertwined. "You know what you need? A distraction. I know a guy with a portable air hockey table."

He was being sweet, which only made me feel worse. I couldn't tell if it was because of the lying or because I knew that once the truth came out all of this would be different.

Whatever it was, I pushed it aside and mustered up the most genuine smile I could. "Sounds good."

+ + +

When fourth period rolled around, all I could think about was seeing Miles again. That usually brought me joy. This time I dreaded it. How was I supposed to keep it together knowing my one stupid mistake cost his sister her life?

Not just his sister, but three other kids as well. The shock effect of all this was wearing off. A lump began to rise in my throat as I moved through the hall at a snail-like speed. I could only hold back the tears for so long.

Making a beeline to the nurses office I hoped I could fake the flu or something to get an excuse to go home.

Getting a pass from the nurse was easier than I thought it'd be. Either she bought my flu story or she wasn't equipped to handle a sixteen-year-old on the verge of tears.

Once I'd created some distance between me and the school I finally relaxed a little. A few tears still managed to escape though and I quickly wiped them away with my sleeve.

I felt horrible for running away again, but it was only temporary. Only until I figured out how to tell Miles and I couldn't be around him while I did that.

+ + +

I'd been home for a couple of hours when I heard Mom come in, her voice calling out for me. Her tone was unreadable. Peeling myself from the bed, I met her out in the hall. 

She looked annoyed, already knowing that I wasn't sick like the voicemail from the nurse suggested. "Why aren't you in school?"

Should I tell her what I found out about Miles? Would she even care? Lately, it was like I couldn't get on her good side, no matter what. Everything I did just seemed to cause a bigger rift in our relationship.

"You promised," she said, pointing at me. "You promised that things would be different here. That you wouldn't skip classes anymore."

"I know..." I muttered, remembering all the parent-principal meetings she had to go to because of my poor grades and attendance.

"Then why are you—"

"It's Miles."

She scoffed, shaking her in disbelief. "All this over a boy?"

"It's not like that," I defended. The tears from earlier reappeared as I tried to find the words. "The girl from the accident, Elizabeth. That's his sister."

Her brow knitted in confusion, her jaw dropping slightly. "I thought his sister's name was Rose."

I shrugged, not completely understanding the name thing. All I knew was that it was her. "I saw her picture in his wallet the other night."

"The other night?" Her eyes were glazed over with anger, and I cursed myself for letting that slip. "How did you get his wallet the other night?"

My gaze shifted to the carpet, hating the way she looked at me. "I went to Vivian's party."

There was a long gut wrenching pause. With each second that passed another part of me crumpled to dust. My tears became more frequent and I couldn't wipe them away quick enough.

Mom exhaled a shaking breath, probably trying to keep her obvious anger to minimum. "You need to stop seeing him."

My eyes darted up to her. "What?"

"I was fooling myself into thinking you changed."

"I did!"

She shook her head, a disappointed frown on her face. "Have you? Because from where I'm standing you're still a naive little girl chasing behind boys. We both know how that ended the last time."

She said it so casually, like it'd been at the back of her mind all these years. She blamed me for the accident. 

Catching on to her words, her eyes went wide and apologetic. "Loren, that's not what I meant."

She stepped forward and I stepped back. I was still within her reach and I saw that her hand was on my arm, but I was numb to the touch.

All these years of her telling me that it wasn't my fault, that he should've known better, that I shouldn't beat myself up over it. Did she mean any of it or did she think it was just the motherly thing to say?

Her lips moved but I couldn't make out what she was saying. All I could think about were her words, replaying over and over again in my head.

We both know how that turned out.

I didn't know what else to do but leave. Run, like always. She was right, I hadn't changed. I was still the girl chasing after boys and running away from my problems.