It feels almost like a betrayal. Like I’m feeding him to the wolves, like I’m adding fuel to the already raging fire of his trouble.

But then, for a moment, I wonder.

Tru is one of only two people here who know about my delinquent past. Aimeigh has no reason to set me up. But Tru… When I told him we couldn’t hang out anymore, that I couldn’t ride with him to school, and that we couldn’t be seen together, he seemed to take it really well. I can’t believe he would have done this.

“It wasn’t Tru,” I say.

“I know you like the boy, Sloane,” Mom says, her voice full of disdain, “but you can’t defend someone who tried to sabotage you.”

“He didn’t, Mom,” I insist. “He wouldn’t.”

“Do you have evidence?” Principal Ben asks.

I could lie. I want to. But I don’t think adding more lies to the layers will help in the end, might actually get me in trouble when I haven’t done anything wrong.

“No, but I know him. He didn’t do this.”

Mom looks at me with a mix of pity and fury.

Chapter Fifteen

Tru sat in his car in the far corner of the parking lot, hands clenched tight around his steering wheel. The drive to school wasn’t the same without Sloane in the car.

As if Monday mornings didn’t suck enough already.

At first, when Sloane told him why she couldn’t see him anymore, he’d been angry. Hurt, even, that she would shut him out. All because of whatever bullshit his mother had told hers about his behavior. All because they’d snuck off campus for one amazing lunch.

They had fun together. Whether it was trying indoor skydiving or debating the impact of computers on the art world over lunch, when they were together he saw a brightness in her eyes that wasn’t there when she didn’t know he was watching.

He recognized it because he felt the same brightness. Felt…bigger when they were together. Better.

And for that reason, when she told him she was taking the source of that brightness away, he’d been angry.

He’d wanted to hurt her in the same way she’d hurt him. He knew that hadn’t been her intention, but it had been the result just the same.

Then, last night, as he leaned out his window and stared up at the cloudy sky—forcing himself not to look next door to see if she was out on her roof, doing the same thing—he realized he didn’t need to make her hurt. By pushing him away, she had done that to herself.

He couldn’t even blame her for it. He understood how badly she wanted to be back in New York. Hell, she practically ate, slept, and breathed the Big Apple. She obviously was New York.

Besides, if he had a chance to get the hell away from here, he wouldn’t let anyone get in his way, either.

So by the time he slid into his spot in the school parking lot Monday morning, his anger had faded and he was left with nothing but the dull ache of missing her. And since there was nothing to do about that particular feeling, he would just have to go on with his day. Go on with his life.

Lord knew he’d gone on with worse before.

He felt the buzz the moment he stepped out of his car. An energy crackling among the students of Austin NextGen.

He saw Clay talking to an underclassman, making huge gestures.

“Hey, dude,” Tru said as he walked up to the pair. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, man, it’s legendary,” Clay said, his eyes wide and clearly excited to have another pair of ears for whatever tale he was about to tell. “It’s all over the front of the school. You have to see it for yourself.”

While Tru normally wouldn’t trust Clay’s judgment when it came to anything worth judging, something about the wild intensity in his eyes made Tru turn right out of the parking lot, taking the path that would lead him around to the school’s main entrance.

A crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, staring at Building A.

Tru looked up.

His stomach plummeted like a roller coaster dive. The giant red letters stood out against the glass and metal surface of the NextGen front facade.

“Shit.”

He pushed through the crowd. His only thought was Sloane. She wouldn’t have done this. He had no doubt about that. She wanted to get home to New York too badly to risk this kind of trouble.

But she would be blamed. Whoever had done this wanted her to be blamed. Wanted her to be kicked out of school, even.

He was not about to let that happen.

When he skidded to a stop inside the main office, he didn’t bother flashing Agnes the grin that usually got him whatever he needed.

“I have to see Principal Haverford,” he told her.

“You’ll have to wait,” she said with disgust. “He’s in a meeting.”

The way she said it told Tru exactly who the principal was meeting with.

He started for the door.

Agnes darted out from behind the desk faster than he gave her credit for.

“Truman, you can’t go in there.” She braced herself against the door, blocking his path.

He flashed his most charming smile. “Sorry, Agnes, but I have to.”

Despite her weight pushing against it, he managed to get enough leverage to pull the door open. As he had imagined, Sloane was sitting in one of the chairs facing Haverford’s desk. She looked pale as a ghost. She must have been terrified.

Her mother sat in the matching chair.

Better and better.

Tru smiled, knowing he wasn’t too late.

Chapter Sixteen

A loud noise in the office beyond the door interrupted Mom mid-speech. It sounded like a scuffle, raised voices, and then a big thump against the door.

Principal Ben pushed to his feet, just as the door swung open.

“Tru Dorsey, you cannot just barge in there!” Agnes shouts.

Tru ignores her, storming inside and stomping up to Principal Ben’s desk.

“I’m here to confess,” Tru says, his spine straight and legs braced wide.

He and Principal Ben face each other across the broad desk.

Tru’s hands fist at his sides. “Art Saves Lives. I did it.”

“Tru, no,” I gasp.

He doesn’t turn, doesn’t look at me.

I turn to Mom, feeling helpless, but she has a smug look on her face. Like she’s killing two birds with one lie: getting me off the hook and getting Tru into more trouble than ever. She shouldn’t take so much joy in someone else’s problems, even if she sees them as saving her from some of her own.

“Tru, why are you doing this?” I grab his arm, make him look at me.

He hesitates for just a second, just long enough for me to see the haunted look in his eyes. The pain. Then he cocks his mouth up into that charming smirk.

“I don’t want you to get credit for my stunt,” Tru says. Then he turns back to Principal Ben and holds out his hands. “Cuff me, Principal Ben. I’m ready to face my executioner.”

Principal Ben frowns. “Call the Dorseys,” he tells Agnes, who is lurking in the doorway. “And then call the police.”

Tru’s smile flickers for a second.

Principal Ben tells Mom, “You should probably go.”

Mom nods, then waves me out of the office before her.

I’m in shock. This must be what shock feels like. I’m numb, stunned, unable to process thoughts. Tru did this? He really did this? Why? To get back at me? Did I really hurt him so badly?

After I just defended him to my mom and Principal Ben.

The more I think about it, the more my skin itches with anger. How could he do this to me? He knows how much getting home means to me. He had to know that this copycat stunt would void Mom’s deal and leave me trapped here indefinitely.

Then again, that was probably his point. I hurt him by pushing him out of my life, so he hurts me right back in the way designed to cut the deepest.