It takes a moment before I recover enough to pack up my things, but right when I'm about to escape into the hallway to find Jason and tell him about Brandon, my name is called.

Mr. Lewis, an ancient man who should've retired from teaching a long time ago, sits expectantly at his desk. "Just a moment, please, Siena."

Warily, I close the distance between us, unsure of what he wants. Did he hear the conversation between me and Brandon? That seems unlikely but not completely impossible.

"Siena," he starts, shuffling through papers on his desk, "since you started here at King, I've seen real potential in you. I know you've been working hard and keeping up with the readings, even going above and beyond when analyzing the text. Your hard work is paying off." Mr. Lewis picks up a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to me. It's the paper I wrote after the last book we finished. On the cover page, the words Great work! are scribbled in red ink, beside a mark of 98 percent.

Holy shit. I stare at the mark like my eyes are playing tricks on me, like it's actually a six instead of a nine. But it's not. I earned a 98 percent. My very first one ever. I did it all on my own, and a surge of pride wells up from deep inside me.

"Have you given any thought to what you want to do after you graduate?" he asks, forcing me to rip my eyes away from the glowing mark.

What do I want to do after high school? I know I want to go to college and get a good enough job to take care of Gia, but I haven't given it much thought past that. "Um, not really. College, I guess."

He stands and walks around the desk. "If you're thinking of college, which I encourage you to do, you need to start seriously thinking about your options. Deadlines are coming up for programs and scholarships alike."

I can't miss the deadlines to apply, especially not for any and all scholarships I can get. There's no way I can afford school by myself, and my father, the man who told me I'm out when I turn eighteen, certainly isn't going to help.

Mr. Lewis's tone softens a bit when he takes in my panic-stricken face. "I'm not trying to worry you, only trying to put things into perspective. My friend runs a scholarship program for students from the community who show academic potential. I always recommend the top student from each of my classes for it, and to be quite frank with you, they always get it. I'm only telling you this because you were on the right track until you got suspended."

For some reason, him insinuating I'm fucking up makes me straighten my spine and announce, "I'm still on the right track. I'm going to keep my grades up."

"Good, good." He nods, then lowers his voice conspiratorially. "I know you're Florence's daughter. The teachers gossip amongst themselves, and you're the spitting image of your mother back in the day."

Dread fills me, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to tell me that getting suspended only proves I'm exactly like my mother and that my good grades were a fluke, maybe even accuse me of cheating. But he surprises me when he says, "I taught your mom early on in my career, yes, but it's hard to forget a troublemaker like Florence. However, based on how hard you're working and how you're staying on top of all the work and even the optional course material, I know you're different from her. I can see you trying. If you keep your grades up like this and stay out of trouble, I'd be happy to recommend you for the scholarship. I think you'd be a good contender, and it's a good chunk of change too."

He opens a desk drawer and holds out what looks like an information pamphlet. I stare at it, stunned.

I never paid Mr. Lewis much attention, but he knew my mom, Florence Bowen, the D-list actress more famous for appearing in tabloids and causing issues than for her few cult movies. The woman who grew up here in King City and has a reputation as the worst kind of person. But not only does Mr. Lewis know all this, he may be the first person who knew Florence and hasn't assumed I'm exactly like her. He sees me as my own person. He recognizes that I'm trying. He wants me to succeed and is going to help me get a scholarship.

College always seemed like a faraway thing, so I never gave it serious thought, but going to college is possible, and it might be time I give it the thought it deserves.

I finally take the pamphlet from his outstretched hand. There's information about how to apply and some information about other scholarships.

When I find my voice, it comes out rough. "Yes, I'd like to be referred for this. Thank you."

I leave the class feeling a weird mixture of confusion, giddiness, determination, and worry. The first three are because of Mr. Lewis and this new realization that I could really go to college and that I'm going to make it happen no matter what, and the last one is because of Brandon. He's back and issuing threats, and I need to find Jason and tell him that immediately.

XX

I can barely focus after everything that happened this morning. It doesn't help that I couldn't see Jason all day since we both spent the lunch period writing a makeup test for a class we missed last week, and the brief texting conversations we were able to sneak between classes didn't cut it. When the final bell rings, I sprint all the way to his car. He's already there waiting for me.

"Siena," he calls, striding toward me, his blue eyes intense as they scan me from head to toe. "Are you okay?" His hands are firm as he holds me at arm's length like he's making sure I'm all in one piece, and I force myself to focus and not get distracted by the way his gaze pierces through me.

"I'm fine, Brandon only glared at me a little in math, but other than that it was back to ignoring me. Did you see him?"

My reassurances calm Jason a little, and the tenseness in his shoulders relaxes even if the severe look on his face doesn't. He guides me the rest of the way to his car with a firm hand on my lower back. "No. Gia?"

"She told me she hasn't seen him and is planning on steering clear. She's with Chris and Lindsey now, and they're going for milkshakes. But, Jason ..." I stop walking and turn to face him. I've been thinking about it all day, my mind running wild with possibilities, but I haven't told Jason yet because I thought I should do it in person. "Brandon told me he wants his phone back, and he's threatening—" I stop myself when I remember we're in the school parking lot where kids could potentially hear us. I lower my voice. "Blackmail ..."

His eyes narrow. "Blackmail?" He practically growls the word. "Did you confirm you have his phone?"

I shake my head. "Of course not. But I've been thinking, why does he want it back so badly? My initial hunch about the phone must be right! There's something incriminating on it that will tell us what happened to Lily. She disappeared weeks ago, and we're no closer to finding out what happened to her. But I know Brandon is involved somehow, and now we may have evidence!"

His phone is still sitting turned off in my room. When I tried to unlock it at the motel party, it didn't work, so he's obviously changed the password since the time I stole it for a few brief moments at the Tracks, but there has to be a way in.

"How many times do you think I can guess a phone passcode before it locks me out?" I ask Jason as he opens the passenger door for me.

"I'm not sure. We'll have to look it up. But I'm a little more concerned with the blackmail part. What is he threatening? Are you in real danger?"

I sink into the familiar leather seat, placing my backpack by my feet. "If I try too many times, will everything on his phone self-destruct, or is that just a thing in the movies? I don't want to destroy any evidence when we're so close to it. Maybe I can bring it into one of those stores and tell them it's mine and I forgot the password? But I think they clear out the phone to unlock it, and as I said, we can't risk that."

Jason eyes the crowded lot as I wonder about my odds of convincing a tech person the phone isn't stolen. He closes my door before reappearing beside me in the driver's seat.

"Siena," he states, his serious tone pulling me from my thoughts, "can we focus on the blackmail part for a second? How worried do we need to be?"

Oh, shit. I got so wrapped up in finding information about Lily's disappearance, I forgot that Brandon and his stupid threats don't just affect me and Gia, they affect Jason too. He's the one who took the fall for Gia, the one who said he found Brandon. He lied to the police when they questioned him about what happened, saying he and Brandon were jumped at the party. He'd be in the direct line of fire if Brandon made good on his threat.

"I'm sorry, Jason," I say quickly, "I should've told you right away. I don't want you getting hurt because of Brandon's threats."

"What? I don't give a fuck about me. I'm not scared of Brandon." He says his name like an angry curse. "What is he threatening to do to you? To Gia? Do we need to handle it?"

I pause for a moment before my mind catches up with his words. He truly isn't concerned about himself, only me and Gia, and butterflies kick up in my stomach.

"No, I'm not too worried about it. He gave me a week before he does anything, and I'm planning to have all the evidence I need before then. If not, I'll figure out how to deal with Brandon later."

Jason studies me so intently that I have to resist the urge to squirm in my seat. Finally, he says, "I know you're used to taking care of everything and doing it all on your own, but you know I'm here for you, right?"

With a pounding heart, I grip his hand and give it a squeeze, trying to communicate all the emotions I'm feeling that are too hard to put into words. I've always felt alone, always felt like I had to handle everything myself and could never rely on anyone for anything, but ever since I met Jason, he's always been there for me, proving over and over again that I can trust him. It means more to me than I can ever tell him.

"I know, Jason. Thank you."

With a final meaningful look, like he's making sure I really understand that I can rely on him, he gives my hand a gentle squeeze before needing to release it to start the car and shift into first gear. He lowers my window a few inches to let in fresh air before the car even moves.

"Let's see what we can do about unlocking his phone," he says, fully on board with my decision. "Maybe try his birthday, jersey number, phone number, a combination of those. He's self-absorbed, so any numbers to do with himself should be our first try."

Very smart. That does sound like a Brandon thing to do. "I don't know any of those."

"I'll figure them out and text them to you," he says, and his support instantly raises my confidence. I know Brandon's hiding something, and if I get more time to snoop through his phone, I can figure out what. The first time I scrolled through his text thread with Lily proved he was obsessed with her, with her constantly telling him to leave her alone and him always refusing. He found me before I had time to dig any deeper, but now I'll have unlimited time to search for answers.

"You're the best, Jason," I reply, but he frowns in response, eyes flicking to his rearview mirror. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm not sure," he says, changing lanes and making a right instead of a left like he normally would to get to my street. He immediately checks the rearview mirror and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"What's going on?" I don't see anything in the side mirror, and just before I'm about to turn in my seat, sirens blare behind us.

"Are we getting pulled over?" I ask as Jason signals and slows to the gravel shoulder of the road. "You weren't speeding!"

The irony isn't lost on me that the first time I got in his car, he very much was speeding as police cars chased after him with sirens blaring while he refused to pull over, and now he's driving like a law-abiding citizen and is getting pulled over anyway.

"The car was waiting for us as soon as I pulled out of the school lot. Passed a bunch of other cars and cut people off to get behind me and make that last turn before turning the sirens on."

Jason shifts into park and takes his license from his wallet before checking the mirror again and stiffening. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"What?" I ask for what seems like the millionth time today, finally turning around to see what's got Jason's jaw grinding. A police car is parked directly behind us on the shoulder of the road, lights flashing but sirens off, and there's a uniformed officer walking toward us, but the car is too low and he's too close for me to see above his shoulders. The occasional car drives past as we wait, but for the most part we're on a low-traffic street.

The officer stops beside Jason's window and knocks on it, waiting while Jason rolls it down all the way. The officer ducks down to survey the inside of the car, and when I meet his bloodshot eyes, I suck in a breath to stop from cursing.

Officer Liu. My neighbor, Lily's dad, and the man who hates my mom, knows about my past with Stan Roven, and is convinced I'm somehow involved with his daughter's disappearance, is standing there with a righteous smirk after pulling us over for no reason, knowing full well there's nothing we can do about it.

"License and registration," he greets us, acting like he doesn't know exactly who we are and like this is any other traffic stop when it clearly isn't.

Jason hands him what he's asked for. "Is there a problem, officer?" The title is said sarcastically, which Officer Liu doesn't seem to appreciate. He ignores the question and gruffly barks, "Keep your hands on the steering wheel."

It's begrudging, but Jason complies without complaint.

Last time Officer Liu interacted with us alone under the pretense of doing his official duties, he wrongly arrested us, then held me in an interrogation room without a guardian and accused me of being involved in his daughter's disappearance. As much as it pains me, I have to behave, because I don't want to give him an excuse to repeat what happened, and Jason's compliance tells me he feels the same way.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" Officer Liu asks, and I clench my teeth to stop myself from yelling because you're an obsessed, power-abusing stalker!

Jason's much more controlled than I am and evenly replies with a simple, "No."

"You were speeding. And in a school zone at that. The fine is double."

"He wasn't speeding!" I exclaim, then snap my mouth closed when Officer Liu zeros in on me excitedly like I've done exactly what he wanted.

"Siena." He makes a sweeping gesture with his hand at the space beside him. "Are you going to be a problem? Do I need to ask you to step out of the vehicle?"

I sink into my seat like it can protect me from the memory of being pressed against the hood of the car while metal cuffs are tightened around my wrists, from the memory of being trapped in the back seat of a cloying cop car, where there's no air.

"I wasn't speeding," Jason says calmly, taking the attention back off me.

"But you were. And I'm an officer of the law, so if I say you were, then you were."

"But we weren't!" I shoot back before I can think better of it.

His gaze snaps to me, a calculated look on his face. "Okay, maybe I want to be nice, maybe I want to help you and pretend you weren't speeding. You'd have to give me something I can work with, some information I can use."

"Like what?" Jason grits out.

Officer Liu shrugs casually. "Maybe your girlfriend feels like remembering something that happened the night my daughter went missing. Maybe she decides to confess something that's been burdening her."

"For the millionth time," I exclaim, exasperated, "I didn't have anything to do with Lily's disappearance! You're wasting time harassing us when you could be finding real information!"

To Jason, Officer Liu asks, "Should I add a broken headlight to your ticket as well?"

"I don't have a broken headli—"

In a quick second, Officer Liu whips his baton off his belt, steps to the front of the car, and raises his arm to swing.

"Stop!" I shout, and Officer Liu pauses with his arm raised in the air, poised to strike.

"Keep your hands on the steering wheel!" he demands, pointing the baton at Jason through the windshield even though he made no indication of movement.

"We don't know anything!" I cry out, and Officer Liu approaches Jason's window again. "I didn't do anything! You should be looking at Brandon Scott. He was obsessed with Lily! He—"

"Oh, yes, your gripe with Brandon Scott," he interrupts. "You've already been through this with Detective Dubois, and it didn't work in your favor." He leans closer, pinning me with his bloodshot eyes. "No one is going to believe the straight-A student and star quarterback with multiple college offers has anything to do with my daughter's disappearance, especially when all signs point to you."

I'm so frustrated with his stubborn preconceptions about me that I feel like screaming, threat of arrest be damned. Just as I open my mouth to say something that'll probably get me in more trouble, Jason interrupts.

"Just give me my damn ticket and let us go already," he forces out, his fingers so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles are white. He turns to Officer Liu, and I notice how tense the muscles in his back and neck are. It occurs to me just how hard Jason's been focusing on staying calm instead of lashing out and making things worse like I've been doing, especially since I can feel how powerful the anger radiating off him is. Knowing that Jason's this pissed on my behalf snuffs out some of my own frustration, and I place a subtle hand on his thigh as reassurance that we're in this together.

Officer Liu's eyes narrow. "Stay right there."

He disappears back to his own car, and Jason and I both release a breath, and with it the tension in our shoulders.

"I'm sorry he's giving you a ticket for no reason, Jason," I say, then amend, "Well, I guess he has a reason, just not the proper one."

"I don't give a shit about the ticket," Jason admits. "He's clearly going to keep harassing us as long as he's got it in his delusional brain that you're somehow involved with what happened to his daughter."

"I'm sorry, Jason. It's my fault you're always mixed up with him." Hell, he was arrested because of me. "I can't believe he was really going to bash in your headlight." He was going to do it too; he wasn't bluffing.

Jason takes my hand from his thigh and intertwines our fingers. "Stop apologizing. I'm not worried about Officer Dickwad just like I'm not worried about Brandon. We're going to figure it out together, and we're going to figure out what happened to Lily. Then we can stand back and watch everyone eat shit when they realize how wrong they were about you."

My heart squeezes the same way it does every time he says something that makes me want to throw myself at him and never let go.

Approaching footsteps stop me from replying, and then Officer Liu is back at the window. He hands Jason back his documents, along with an undeserved ticket.

"You better hope there's some progress with Lily's case, or I'll be seeing you two real soon." It's a thinly veiled threat, one that neither Jason nor I miss but can't say anything about, and then Officer Liu is retreating to his car, and I'm left wondering just how far he'll go in the name of his personal vendetta.