the classroom before I explode into a thousand particles of anger. I hear Mr. Echols instructing Sawyer about paperwork he’ll need to fill out before he leaves, so I’m surprised when I hear Sawyer’s voice behind me in the hallway.
“Jamie, please wait!”
I stop in place but take my time turning back around. “What?” I say, trying for evenness, but my voice is wobbly.
“I’m sorry it had to happen so fast,” he says. “I need to explain...” I think he’s going to say more, but then Amelia’s high-pitched voice trills around the corner, calling his name, and he stops with his mouth open.
Amelia appears and says, “Sawyer! If you want on the trip you need to fill these papers out now.”
I look at him, and he stares back at me. It’s his decision. I’ll listen if he wants to stick around and tell me, but if getting on the trip and ruining Tristan’s life is more important to him...
“Now,” Amelia says again, looking between Sawyer and me. We don’t take our eyes off of each other.
But then he does. He looks down and nods at the floor, and I know even before he’s turned away what he has chosen.
Chapter Nine
Before I get out of the school, I’m stopped by one more person. Jennifer.
“Hey, Jamie. Did you find out anything about that foreign exchange program? I really want to contact them. Next year would be my last chance.”
“I’ll email Tristan tonight. Sorry, I haven’t had a chance.” The thought of emailing Tristan and telling her how badly I’ve screwed up is not a pleasant one.
I take the back roads home, even though there’s not much chance Sawyer would pass me. He’s with Amelia . I say her name in my head like I’m a temper-tantruming preschooler.
I round the corner onto my street half an hour earlier than I told Mom I’d be home. Usually when Tristan and I got home early, we’d sneak into her house and hang out there so we could basically just wave to Mom on our way across the yard when it was time for her to leave for work.
I stop in front of the Bishops ’ house and look up at it. Jennifer’s voice is still on repeat in the back of my head, and as annoyed as I am by it, I can’t help myself. I want to help her. Besides, Sawyer says there’s a problem with the program, and even though I know I shouldn’t believe a word he says, I need to prove to myself that he was trying to get me worried for his own selfish motives.
I know Tristan had more than just that one brochure on the program. In fact, if I remember correctly, she had piles of papers. I sneak around to the backyard of the Bishops’ house and dig under their decorative wheelbarrow until I find the spare key.
I don’t consider the alarm until the door’s open and it’s beeping madly at me. My hands shake even though Tristan’s told me the code. Still, I have to type it in twice to get it right, and in the extra second it takes to cut out, I think I’m going to have a heart attack.
When I’d been here the other night, I’m pretty sure Sawyer had gone to Tristan’s room to get th at brochure. I slip off my sneakers, and tiptoe in my sock feet through the kitchen, living room, hallway, and finally up the stairs. It’s eerily quiet in here, not like at my house, where if my brother’s not grunting something at us, our ancient fridge is offering a steady hum in the background.
At the top of the stairs, I glance toward Sawyer’s room . I’m not sure what I want to do. Trash it? Search it for some kind of clue as to why he feels the need to constantly out-do Tristan?
Instead I make myself head to Tristan’s room. It feels weird to go in without her. My house was practically her house, so she regularly hung out in my room without me, or anywhere in my house without me, for that matter. But her house is different. We were always on high alert for her Proper Parents to come home.
But no one’s home now, I remind myself, and they won’t be home for hours.
Tristan’s room looks the same as
“Jamie, please wait!”
I stop in place but take my time turning back around. “What?” I say, trying for evenness, but my voice is wobbly.
“I’m sorry it had to happen so fast,” he says. “I need to explain...” I think he’s going to say more, but then Amelia’s high-pitched voice trills around the corner, calling his name, and he stops with his mouth open.
Amelia appears and says, “Sawyer! If you want on the trip you need to fill these papers out now.”
I look at him, and he stares back at me. It’s his decision. I’ll listen if he wants to stick around and tell me, but if getting on the trip and ruining Tristan’s life is more important to him...
“Now,” Amelia says again, looking between Sawyer and me. We don’t take our eyes off of each other.
But then he does. He looks down and nods at the floor, and I know even before he’s turned away what he has chosen.
Chapter Nine
Before I get out of the school, I’m stopped by one more person. Jennifer.
“Hey, Jamie. Did you find out anything about that foreign exchange program? I really want to contact them. Next year would be my last chance.”
“I’ll email Tristan tonight. Sorry, I haven’t had a chance.” The thought of emailing Tristan and telling her how badly I’ve screwed up is not a pleasant one.
I take the back roads home, even though there’s not much chance Sawyer would pass me. He’s with Amelia . I say her name in my head like I’m a temper-tantruming preschooler.
I round the corner onto my street half an hour earlier than I told Mom I’d be home. Usually when Tristan and I got home early, we’d sneak into her house and hang out there so we could basically just wave to Mom on our way across the yard when it was time for her to leave for work.
I stop in front of the Bishops ’ house and look up at it. Jennifer’s voice is still on repeat in the back of my head, and as annoyed as I am by it, I can’t help myself. I want to help her. Besides, Sawyer says there’s a problem with the program, and even though I know I shouldn’t believe a word he says, I need to prove to myself that he was trying to get me worried for his own selfish motives.
I know Tristan had more than just that one brochure on the program. In fact, if I remember correctly, she had piles of papers. I sneak around to the backyard of the Bishops’ house and dig under their decorative wheelbarrow until I find the spare key.
I don’t consider the alarm until the door’s open and it’s beeping madly at me. My hands shake even though Tristan’s told me the code. Still, I have to type it in twice to get it right, and in the extra second it takes to cut out, I think I’m going to have a heart attack.
When I’d been here the other night, I’m pretty sure Sawyer had gone to Tristan’s room to get th at brochure. I slip off my sneakers, and tiptoe in my sock feet through the kitchen, living room, hallway, and finally up the stairs. It’s eerily quiet in here, not like at my house, where if my brother’s not grunting something at us, our ancient fridge is offering a steady hum in the background.
At the top of the stairs, I glance toward Sawyer’s room . I’m not sure what I want to do. Trash it? Search it for some kind of clue as to why he feels the need to constantly out-do Tristan?
Instead I make myself head to Tristan’s room. It feels weird to go in without her. My house was practically her house, so she regularly hung out in my room without me, or anywhere in my house without me, for that matter. But her house is different. We were always on high alert for her Proper Parents to come home.
But no one’s home now, I remind myself, and they won’t be home for hours.
Tristan’s room looks the same as
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