Chapter 2

Emma's POV

We got our asses kicked, all thanks to Luke.

At the semifinal game the next afternoon, Redwood High fell apart with their backup quarterback. Missed plays, blown coverage—we got demolished 28-7 by our biggest rivals.

Coach Miller smashed two whiteboards in the locker room and announced Luke's indefinite suspension, along with pulling his USC athletic scholarship recommendation.

Word got around fast. Walking down the hallways with my books, I heard Luke's name everywhere.

"Did you hear? Luke got kicked off the team."

"Serves him right for ditching semifinals. I heard it was for that Casey girl from South Side."

"You mean tatted-up Casey who got busted for shoplifting last month? Dude's completely lost it."

I walked through the crowd stone-faced and opened my locker.

"Emma!" An angry voice called from behind me.

I turned to see Luke's mother, Linda Smith, clicking toward me in high heels. Her well-maintained face was tight with panic and rage, eyes red-rimmed.

"Linda, what are you doing here?"

"Emma, you tell me the TRUTH—where did Luke go yesterday?!" She grabbed my wrist, nails digging into my skin. "Coach Miller says he never went to the hospital! He lost his full ride, and his father's tearing the house apart! You two are always together—you HAVE to know where he was, right?"

Watching Linda fall apart, I felt nothing.

Last time around, when Luke hit rock bottom, his parents never took responsibility. Instead, they stormed my house, screaming that I'd corrupted their precious son. Even after I died, they told everyone I'd been obsessed with Luke and brought it on myself.

"Linda, you're hurting me." I yanked my wrist back and rubbed the red marks.

Linda blinked, clearly not expecting pushback from goody-two-shoes Emma.

"I'm sorry, Linda. But I honestly don't know." I met her eyes, voice sincere but distant. "Luke just handed me a sick note yesterday to pass along. You know how crazy application season is—I've been at the library until closing every night. I haven't walked home with Luke in weeks. Maybe you should ask him directly?"

"Ask him? He never came home last night!" Linda covered her face, tears spilling over. "Emma, could you please talk to him? He always listens to you. Help me bring him home?"

There it was again—that entitled moral blackmail.

I stepped back, putting distance between us. "Sorry, Linda. I have an important AP Physics practice test this afternoon. Luke's eighteen now. He gets to decide his own life. It's not my place to interfere."

I turned and walked into the classroom, ignoring Linda's stunned expression.

Every day of application season mattered. I wouldn't waste another second on dead weight.

Over the next week, Luke became a school pariah. No longer the golden quarterback, even his former teammates froze him out for costing them the championship.

But he didn't seem to care. If anything, he was drowning in his own tragic hero fantasy.

At Friday's house party, my friends dragged me along. The second I walked into the backyard, I spotted Luke and Casey lounging by the pool.

Casey wore a barely-there tank dress, cigarette dangling from her fingers as she blew smoke rings. Luke was sprawled across her lap like a lovesick puppy, staring at her with complete worship.

"Well, well, look at Miss Perfect over here. Our resident nerd, Emma." Casey spotted me first, sneering.

Everyone turned to stare. Luke looked up, something flickering in his eyes before he slapped on his new rebel act.

"Emma, what are you doing here? This isn't calculus class." Luke tightened his arm around Casey's waist, throwing me a challenging look.

I sipped my soda and watched them calmly. "Just passing through."

"Luke, your little girlfriend is such a buzzkill." Casey flicked ash onto the grass, giggling. "I heard she's never even had a boyfriend because of college prep. Not like us—we'd give up EVERYTHING for each other."

"Damn right." Luke gazed at Casey like she'd hung the moon, announcing loudly, "Who cares about scholarships? Who cares about football? As long as I'm with you, I'd throw it all away. All that shit doesn't matter when you have real love!"

Awkward coughs rippled through the crowd. Even the party kids were looking at Luke like he'd lost his mind.

Watching Luke's performance, I almost felt impressed. He actually made being an idiot sound romantic.

"Whatever makes you happy." I dropped those words and walked away.

I used to think he was just confused. Now I realized he was just a complete and total moron. If he loved screwing up his life so much, I'd happily watch him dig his own grave.

That night, I sat at my desk flipping through course catalogs from my target schools, imagining college life. All my applications were submitted—now came the long wait. I didn't turn off the lights until 2 AM.

Just as I was drifting off to sleep, soft tapping came from outside my window.

I frowned and pulled back a corner of the curtain.

Luke stood outside my first-floor window, clothes caked with mud, a nasty bruise darkening his face.

When he saw me, his eyes went desperate, mouthing words I couldn't make out.