“What? No!” I’m not above petty trespassing or other no-victim crimes, but I draw the line at theft. And everything on the other side of that line.

I move so my mouth is right next to his ear. “My mom is here.”

“Well that sucks.”

I peer around him to see if she’s moved from the door, but I can’t see anything. “She’s going to kill me.”

“Obviously,” he says, his voice full of way more humor than I’m capable of right now.

My vision starts to swirl as the true panic sets in. “If she catches me with you,” I whisper, “it’ll be even worse.”

His grin fades. “I’ll take care of it.”

He digs out his wallet and reaches up to set a few bills on the table, then starts to crawl past me. I wait, shaking and on the verge of puking up my scrambled eggs and tortilla chips.

Suddenly, something behind me crashes to the floor, followed by the slosh of water and ice.

“Go,” he says, pushing me toward an exit sign in the back.

I head for the door, making it halfway across the restaurant before I hear Mom’s voice call out, “Sloane?”

I freeze, my heart hammering against my chest. This is it. My life is over. Mom has caught me off campus at lunch with the screw-up neighbor. What little hope I had of ever getting home has evaporated without possibility of a second chance.

As I spin around to face her, I expect to find Tru right behind me.

But he’s nowhere in sight.

I hold my breath, not sure if I should be relieved or concerned.

“Sloane?” Mom says again, her voice sharper this time. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um…” I glance around one more time and see no sign of Tru. “Having lunch?”

“Having lunch?” she echoes. Her heels echo on the hardwood floor. “NextGen has a closed campus.”

“I know, I just… I needed to get away for a while.”

“Get away?” Her voice is practically a shriek. “How did you even get here?”

“I took the bus.”

“The bus?”

Now that irritates me. I’ve taken the bus countless times in my life. The idea that I took one today should not shock her this much.

“Yes, Mom, the bus. I am capable.”

“Of course you are, but—”

“Oh my God, this is why I needed to sneak away for lunch. I feel like I’m in prison, like my every move is being watched and cataloged for later review.” I throw my hands up in frustration. “I just needed to feel in control for a little while.”

She stares at me, eyes wide and unblinking. I’m not sure if she’s furious or unbelieving.

Then she snaps.

“Well the last time you were in control you wound up in jail.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s why we’re here in the first place.”

“That’s a low blow, Mom. This is nothing like that.”

She takes several deep breaths, like she’s trying to regain control or something.

“Look,” she finally says, “I’m trying my hardest to be here for you, but you need to meet me halfway.”

I snort. That implies that she’s meeting me halfway, too.

“I mean, you want to go to college, right? You want to have a good life? You can’t keep doing stupid things like this just because you need to feel free.”

She has no idea what it’s like to feel trapped. To feel like you have no choices, no options except ones that other people decide for you.

“I don’t think sneaking out for one stupid lunch is going to blacklist me from college.”

“Not this time, maybe,” she says. “But these things add up. One day you’ll look around and find your life in ruins.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that the only thing ruining my life right now is her. But I’m smart enough to know that’s not a comment I come back from saying. If I want to salvage my chances of keeping our deal in place, I have to play by her rules.

As much as it pains me to do it, I have to suck it up and apologize.

“I’m sorry. It was a stupid idea.” I glance over her shoulder and see Tru slipping out the front door. “It won’t happen again.”

A little of her steam dies down, and I know I made the right call. For once.

She turns to her friend. “I’m sorry, Gail, but I need to get my daughter back to school.”

“I understand. We’ll do this another time.”

But the moment we’re in the car and on our way back to school, the adrenaline wears off. As my breathing returns to normal and the reality of what happened—what almost happened—sets in.

If Mom had seen Tru with me, I would be beyond dead meat. I would never be allowed out of the house without a babysitter. All hope of convincing Mom to stick to the deal would be lost.

It was bad enough that I got caught. Getting caught with Tru would have been so much worse.

I shoot him a quick text to let him know that Mom is taking me back, just so he doesn’t think he needs to wait on me.

He replies with a string of emojis that I decipher to mean okay, see you back at school. I can’t help but smile at the memory of how much fun I’d had at lunch. I wish I could go back to before, to the way I felt before I saw Mom and I realized how close to disaster I just came.

To before I remembered that hanging out with Tru was a huge risk to my goal. The more time I spend with him, the greater the chance of getting caught. If I want Mom to stand by our deal, I need to stay on the straight and narrow.

No more Tru.

Mom pulls around to the student parking lot, probably trying to avoid making me walk in past the front office.

“Hey,” she says, looking at me with concern. “Are you okay?”

I snap myself out of the funk and put on the mask of a happy face.

“Yeah. Don’t want to be late for class,” I say, waggling my phone at her. Then, without waiting for a response, I open the door. Before I climb out, I turn back and say, “Thanks for the ride.”

Then I’m racing across campus. Trying to outrun the reality of how close I came to giving up the only thing I want for an afternoon of fun with a boy I barely know. Nothing is worth risking my ticket back home. Nothing, and no one.

The next morning, I wake up in a cold sweat. I was freaking out in my sleep and have come to a major realization. Mom was right. Not about everything—definitely not about moving us to Texas—but about these small decisions adding up and Tru being bad news. For me, anyway.

Less than two weeks with the guy and I almost let him ruin everything. It’s not his fault. Not entirely his fault, anyway. But he’s too charming for my own good. I should never have let him convince me to leave campus for lunch.

Luckily, Mom agreed that, since I hadn’t actually gotten in trouble at school, the deal is still in place. And for the sake of the plan, for the sake of keeping up my end of it, I have to stay away from Tru.

“Hey Mom?” I ask, knocking on her bedroom door and hoping she hasn’t left for work already.

She opens the door, still in her pajamas and halfway done with her hair and makeup. “Is something wrong?”

“Can you take me to school today?”

She scowls. “Did something happen with Tru?”

“No,” I half-lie, “I just want to go in early to work on a project.”

“Okay,” she says. “Give me five minutes.”

Tru knocks on the door while I’m waiting for her. I open it just enough to talk to him, but not so much that Mom will hear us.

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to go in early today?” he asks. He looks as charming as ever. Hair going every which way, untied tie hanging from the collar of his black and red plaid shirt, white tee, and red jeans.

We’re wearing the same black All Stars.

It takes epic restraint not to reach up and finger-comb his hair.

“Mom is taking me,” I say, gesturing over my shoulder. When he looks like he’s going to ask a question, I add, “She’s still freaking out about yesterday.”

“Got it,” he says. “Then I’ll catch you at lunch.”

He’s smiling as he jogs back to his house.