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He didn’t turn around. “It’s my portfolio.”

“Can I see it?”

He pushed it toward me. I picked up the book and turned the pages, pausing to admire the articles, ordered chronologically, beginning with the first day of school. Each school event had been photographed and memorialized. The name Jeremy Fowler appeared beneath each one.

“It’s fantastic. How many are there?”

“One for every school event this year.”

“What’s it for?”

“My application to the journalism program at Syracuse.” He looked up at me, deep creases in his brow. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I set the portfolio on his desk. “Syracuse? What happened to University of Maryland?” “Changed my mind.” He stroked the binder and closed the cover.

“Your mom must be happy.”

He fingered the edge of a blue-and-orange admissions folder, and didn’t look up.

“Why are you leaving?”

He choked out a harsh laugh. “Are you going to give me a reason to stay?”

There was a dare in his eyes. They asked questions he was too afraid to voice out loud because he already knew the answer. He wanted more than what we had. More than I could give him. I didn’t know what to say. I set my backpack on his floor and dropped onto the bed. My own selfish desires collided with what was best for him. If he went to Maryland, Jeremy and I would stay close, but not the way he wanted.

I reached into my backpack and held out an unopened pouch of Twinkies. He stared at them, puzzled. “What’s this for?” he asked.

“For standing you up on Friday.” The plastic sleeve crinkled, a small sound that felt louder in the silence while I waited for him to accept both the gift and the apology.

He turned back to his work. “I know you’ve got a boyfriend. I get that you don’t need me to drive you anymore.”

“He’s not . . . Reece isn’t . . .” I stammered, shook my head, too afraid of losing him to pile on one more lie. But I’d made a deal with Reece. “It’s not like that, Jeremy.”

“Did he break up with you or something?” There was a glimmer of hope beneath the sarcasm, and I hated myself for disappointing him again.

“No, I just told him I needed some space.”

Jeremy’s lips moved, started to form words and then paused as if he’d changed his mind.

“Forget it. It’s none of my business.” He turned back to his desk, opened his iPad, and began scrolling through photos. I was about to answer him, to tell him he was being ridiculous, when one photo made me pause.

“Wait, flip back,” I said, reaching over him to brush a finger across the screen. I scrolled backward through a few shots of a soccer game and the pep rally at school and stopped at a photo of two people, locked in an embrace. “Is that Emily Reinnert?” Her long blond ponytail gave her away, but who was she kissing? I couldn’t make out his face, but he was too tall to be TJ. And he wasn’t wearing a leg brace. I parted the curtain over Jeremy’s bedroom window and held the iPad up against the house across the street—Vince’s house. It was a match to the front porch in the photo. “When was this taken?”

Jeremy shrugged. “About three months ago, I think.”

“Does TJ know?”

“Of course he does. Why do you think I took it?” He snatched the tablet from my hands. “What better way is there to express my appreciation for all those years of humiliation and public beat-downs? I gave a copy of the picture to TJ. He was pissed! Completely lost it. You should have seen him.”

“What happened?”

“I kept waiting for him to pick a fight with Vince and break up with Emily. But nothing happened. Instead, Vince and Emily started fighting, and TJ and Emily made up and got over it. Nobody’s mentioned it since.”

“Weird.”

“Maybe not, if you think about it. Vince and TJ have been best friends as long as we have. It’s not like they’re going to let one stupid kiss come between them. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe it was just a one-time thing. A mistake.” He looked at me for a long time, trying to convey more than he was saying. I wondered if this was his way of telling me we were cool. That he was over it, and I was forgiven. Or if he was asking me to say it was all a mistake. That I shouldn’t have kissed Reece and it wouldn’t happen again. His stare was heavy with expectation. I changed the subject and looked away.

“So TJ thwarted your wicked retribution plan by not going ballistic on Vince, and not dumping his girlfriend. Why didn’t you just print the photo in the school paper, or blast it out to everyone by e-mail? Why let him off easy?”

“We came to a gentlemen’s agreement.” Jeremy rolled his eyes and grinned sheepishly. It was the first smile I’d seen him wear in days. “I agree not to broadcast the photo of his girlfriend kissing the hot rich guy whose legs are still working, and he agrees not to break both of mine.”

I laughed. “Gentlemen, huh?” Feeling like the pall had lifted, I reached over his shoulder and playfully started flipping through his photos. “What other crazy incriminating shots are you hiding in this thing?”

A gap-tooth smile caught my attention. I reached slowly, turning the screen toward me.

A group of students posed in front of a building with tall glass sections. Teddy’s face smiled back at me and my gut clenched.

“You were at the museum yesterday?” I clicked through a short slide show, scanning the handful of pictures, looking past the smiling faces, searching the figures in the background for my own. Finding no sign of either myself or Reece, I let out a shaky breath and scooted it back to him.

Jeremy’s face was paler than usual and he looked tired. “I had permission to leave school to cover it for the paper. I guess you heard about Teddy,” he said, closing the picture and looking awkward and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry for that stuff I said about him at the amusement park. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

I nodded. I doubted anyone knew about Posie yet, but it was only a matter of time. Monday morning, the entire school would be buzzing over it. As if reading my thoughts, Jeremy said, “You should get to school early on Monday. The police are auditing attendance records and I heard teachers are giving detention if you’re late without a pass. There’s supposed to be some big announcement and a lecture on personal safety in every first period class. And I’m pretty sure all after-school activities are canceled until further notice. Counselors from all six high schools have been called in and they’re supposed to be making the rounds. You know  .  .  . grief counseling for anyone who needs it.” He massaged his eyes under his glasses, then pulled them off and dropped them on the desk. “I’m not a big fan of shrinks, but I thought you should know about it. Just in case . . . you know . . . you needed to talk to someone.”

“How’d you know about all this?”

Jeremy opened the Twinkies and lay down beside me on the bed. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually not a shitty reporter.” He smirked it off. He knew he was a great reporter. I was just lucky he hadn’t seen me at the museum.

“So what was it like?” he asked around a mouthful of sponge cake.