Okaaaaaay? “Haven’t you already warned me about Jaxon? I thought that’s what we just did.”

“This isn’t about him. Or, I mean, I guess it is, but not like you’re thinking.” I must look as confused as I feel, because she takes a deep breath and blurts out, “If you like Jaxon—and I’m cool with it if you do, honest. But if you like him, Grace, you can’t keep hanging out with Flint, too. It won’t work.”

That’s so far from where I expected her to go that it takes me a second to actually assimilate her words. And even after I decide I understand them, they still don’t make any sense. “What do you mean, it won’t work? I’m not actually dating either one of them right now, and even if I was…surely I can be friends with the other one?”

“No.” She shakes her head emphatically. “You can’t. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

I’m half convinced she’s messing with me—because how could she not be?—but she looks so serious, I have to ask, “What do you mean I can’t? What is this? The Breakfast Club?”

“Worse. Way worse.”

“Obviously, because even in The Breakfast Club, they figured out it didn’t matter what group you belong to.”

“Isn’t The Breakfast Club also the movie where Judd Nelson sexually harasses Molly Ringwald by reaching up her skirt when he’s hiding under her desk?”

When she puts it that way… “Okay, so maybe it’s not the best example.”

She rolls her eyes. “You think?”

“Even so, this whole Jaxon and Flint can’t be civil to each other because they head up different groups argument you’re making is ridiculous. Do you know how many people have been nice to me since I got here?” I hold up four fingers and tick off the names as I say them. “You, Jaxon, Flint, and Lia. That’s it. Four people. Which is why telling me that I can’t talk to one of the four people in this entire place who doesn’t treat me like I have the plague is total bullshit.”

“Oh, Grace.” She looks heartbroken. “Has it really been that bad?”

“Well, it hasn’t exactly been a picnic—even without the near-death experiences.” Still, she looks so distraught at my words that I can’t help but walk them back a little. “Don’t worry about it, Mace. I haven’t even started classes yet. I’m sure people will loosen up and stop staring once they have a chance to get to know me.”

She jumps on the walk-back. “They will, Grace. I swear. They just need to spend some time with you. We don’t get a lot of new people here, and most of us have been together a long time, even before Katmere.”

“I didn’t realize that.”

“Yeah. There’s another school that most of us went to before this one, starting in fifth grade. So if we seem aloof, that’s part of it, you know?”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t knowing one another that long make it easier for all of you to get along and not harder?”

“It should. And for a while, even, it did. I don’t know how to explain why things went bad, except to say that some awful stuff happened about a year ago and things got completely out of hand. I mean, on the surface it looks like everything’s fine, but once you dig a little, the damage is all right there. And part of what happened makes it nearly impossible for Jaxon and Flint to be on the same side of…anything.”

It’s pretty much the vaguest explanation anyone has ever given me about anything. And still it has me thinking, trying to piece together the very few things I’ve learned since I’ve been here. “Is this about what happened to Hudson Vega?”

The question is out before I can think twice about it, and judging from the look on Macy’s face, I definitely should have thought twice. “What do you know about Hudson?” she whispers so quietly that it feels like she’s scared to say his name out loud.

“Lia told me that her boyfriend died, remember? But then Jaxon mentioned his brother, and I put two and two together after I saw them arguing.”

“Did Jaxon tell you Hudson was dead?” I don’t think she would look this shocked if I told her I was flying back to San Diego under my own power, and suddenly all kinds of doubts assail me.

“Isn’t he?” If Jaxon was lying to me about something like that, I don’t know what I’ll do. I mean, what kind of person—?

“He is. Yes. It’s just that he doesn’t talk about it much. The whole thing almost destroyed him, and I just couldn’t imagine him discussing it with…” She trails off.

“A total stranger?”

“Yeah.” She looks a little guilty to be admitting it. “Not that you guys are strangers, I guess—”

“Sometimes it’s easier,” I interrupt. “Talking to your best friend about the worst thing that ever happened to you is excruciating. Talking to a stranger who doesn’t have any kind of vested interest…sometimes it doesn’t hurt so much.” It sounds weird, but it’s true. Just one of the things I’ve learned in the last month.

“That makes a strange kind of sense.” She puts the ice cream down and leans over to hug me.

I hug her back for a few seconds—until I feel the tears that are never far from the surface start to well up in my eyes. Then I pull back and give her a grin that says I’m totally fine, even if I’m not. “Maybe that’s why it seems like Jaxon is different with me. Because he knows I’ve lost someone, too.”

“Maybe.” She looks doubtful. “But if the attraction between you and Jaxon is because you’ve both lost someone… Just be careful, okay, Grace? The last thing you want is to become the chew toy in a game of tug-of-war between him and Flint. Because in the end, you’re going to be the one who gets ripped apart.”

I try to ignore her words—and do a pretty good job of it for the rest of the night. But once I’m in bed, with the lights out, I can’t help but think about what Macy said…and how it feels more like a premonition than a warning.

A heaviness creeps into my bones at the thought, pushing me into the bed, weighing me down until the simple act of rolling over and curling into a protective ball feels impossible. I settle for wrapping my arms around my waist and telling myself that she’s wrong. Even as a little voice inside me warns that she’s not.

   24

Waffles

Are the Way

to a Girl’s Everything

I wake up slowly to the sound of a text coming in. I groan as I think about ignoring it, about staying wrapped up in my covers where it’s warm and comfortable and perfect. But I’ve been slow in responding to Heather’s texts since I got to Alaska, and that’s not cool.