Have you ever had that moment in class when everything is quiet and then boom! Your stomach makes a sound that resembles a zombie coming out of the grave?

Well mine did that today way too much in Biology class. It was to the point where the teacher had to give me some crackers to calm down the moans. Even then, a picture of an apple tree in my textbook had my mouth practically overflowing.

And I don't even like apples.

Well, when they're not in pie form.

I should be embarrassed by my excessive hunger—Hayden's loud snickering sure didn't help— but with the amount of crap that has happened in that class (exploding pens, anyone?), I wasn't and I'm over the moon when the bell finally rings.

I'm out of the classroom fast enough to beat the initial surge of people and my hunger propels me down the halls and outside to the school parking lot lightning fast. Our mother decided to pack Corry and I lunch for today as some sort of apology for what happened at the bar the other night and I forgot it in my car. She claimed to have barely remembered it, but I overheard her talking to one of her friends on the phone about the bunch of cute men she met at Bar 45. She said that one of them gave her his number and she hoped to see him again. It took all of my self-control not to barge in there, grab her phone, and throw it out the window.

I am not letting my mom get involved in this. I'm not letting myself get involved. If anything happened to her—I don't even want to think about it.

All I know is the second Stacie Chance is away from her phone, that number is gone.

A cool autumn air stirs leaves gently across the parking lot. It's still hot outside and I barely see any hint of a color change in the trees, but there's a cool touch beneath the wind that tells me we don't have long until the world is painted in golden flames. There's no one on the football field today, which is strange considering Coach Foster loves to implement is torture there.

I should be okay with that. But I'm not.

I don't know if it's my paranoia, or the fact that this week has surprisingly been a good one, but looking out into the sea of cars, my stomach clenches.

Today he's nowhere to be seen.

I hurry to where my car sat at the very end of the large stretch of concrete.

And to make things worse, the chill of being watched begins to trickle down my spine with every passing second. I tell myself it's probably Hayden being an asshole but I saw him walk in the other direction with Principal Miller right as the bell rang. I heard him mention something about Hayden meeting with his parole officer for lunch today.

You're just being over cautious, I try to tell myself. So what if it's Hayden? Who cares?

Unlocking my car, I quickly climb into the passenger seat and as I'm digging around to find the little brown bag, something brushes the back of my leg. Kicking my leg, I whirl around to see nothing there.

It must have been the wind.

My heart thunders frantically in my throat.

"Gotcha!" I snatch the bag hidden under the seat and haul out of there, slamming the door shut harder than I need to. My precious old car lets out a pained moan in response and I rub one of the side mirrors apologetically.

"Well isn't this a scrap of metal?" a voice says from behind me. My breath halts in my chest and every single nightmare I've had in the past few weeks comes rushing back. I know that voice. It's the same voice that told me how it was going to kill me in every one of my dreams.

"What are you doing here?" I whisper, unable to catch my breath. The 'x' scrawled on my car flashes before my eyes and Hayden's haunting words ring through my ears.

They're interested.

They shouldn't be interested. Why the hell would they be interested? I didn't do anything wrong.

"Just hanging out," he responds.

"Really?" And just as the question falters from my mouth, I squeeze my eyes shut. No! Of course not, you idiot!

"No. Not really." There's dangerous annoyance in his voice. "Are you going to turn around? Or do you plan on talking to your car the whole time?"

Um, Option Number Two?

Oh, how I wish.

Taking a deep breath, I straighten up and turn, to catch an endless pit of black staring at me like a starved man stares at a meal. He leans against the car next to mine, his arms crossed over his chest, and holds a light cigarette between his teeth in a way that is all too familiar to another person I can't stand. Except this person looks happy to see me. Which, in turn, makes the hole in my chest grow bigger.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "What are you doing here, Derek?"

He exhales a cloud of smoke.

"What are you doing here?" I ask again, thankful that my voice is stronger this time.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow and gives a small, handsome smile. It catches me off guard—how attractive he is. The look in his eyes, the wicked twist of his mouth, makes a person forget that.

"Oh I was just in the neighborhood looking for Cross." Derek explains in a gravelly voice. "But I guess I found you instead." He pushes off the car and moves to stand closer. "How are you?"

I shrink away from him.

"About to leave," I say, moving away from Derek and turning in the direction of the door. I don't want to be out here any longer. There's no telling what this wacko criminal could do. He'd probably slit my throat faster than I could scream.

"So soon?" he asks, stepping in front of me. Alarms blare in my head.

If he makes a move, jab him in the eyes, hit him in the throat with my lunch, and kick him right in the crotch.

"Yeah. So what? That's really not any of your business." I snap.

Instead of getting angry like I had expected him to, Derek only chuckles, and pushes the sleeves of his red jacket up to reveal a menacing, black tattoo weaving up his arms.

"Sassy," he comments. "I like it."

Gross.

"So yeah, Hayden's not here." I try to change the subject so he'll go away. "If I see him I'll definitely let him know that you dropped by!"

"Okay, okay," Derek raises a hand in surrender. "I get it. You don't want me to be here. But let me just get a few things out before I go. Is that okay?"

My jaw sets and he continues.

"You have something of mine, sweetheart," he begins. "Something very important to me."

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach. "I gave it back! One of your guys almost broke my neck!"

He smiles. "Ah, see, that's where you're wrong, Ember. You didn't give it back. And I want to know why that is."

My mind races frantically. What is he talking about? I threw the flash drive! I saw the man pick it up?

"Why would I want to keep it?" I gape, faltering away from him.

He takes another menacing step forward and throws out his arm to cage me against him and the car behind me. The humor has left his expression and I know if I don't say what he wants me to say, this is going to get a million times worse.

"Maybe it has something to do with Hayden Cross?" he offers in a tight whisper. "I've seen the way he looks at you, Ember. I wouldn't put it past the traitor for trying to pull a fast one on me."

HUH?

Is he being serious right now?

Did he put on his Crazy Cap a little too tight this morning?

"Whoa! Whoa!" I raise my hands in surrender. "You've got it all wrong, buddy! There's nothing like that going on! I swear!"

Derek leans in closer. "That's the thing, I don't believe you."

"You have to! How do you know it wasn't the other guy?" I mumble as the air in my lungs becomes too hot to bear. "I gave it to him! What if he's the double agent?"

This catches Derek's attention just as I'm two seconds away from passing out. He moves away every so slightly and contemplates my words, and I pray he leaves me alone to figure it out. Just as Derek opens his mouth to say something, another voice booms across the parking lot.

"I think you're done speaking with her," a voice says from a few feet away.

I don't think I've ever been so relieved to hear Hayden Cross' voice before—ever. He walks in long, tense strides across the parking lot, and doesn't try to mute the fury scrawled across his face. I take it as my chance to get out of there, but Derek still has me caged in with no indication of letting me go anytime soon.

"Cross! You finally made it," Derek exclaims. "I was beginning to think you were never going to come." Derek turns away from me and drops his arm.

Get out of there! NOW!

Derek's eyes linger on mine. "Though, I guess I wouldn't mind now."

"I would!" I squeak, ducking away from him and stagger in Hayden's direction, almost crashing into Hayden. But before we can collide, Hayden takes a step to the side and I slam into a Mercedes Benz instead.

"Bye Ember!"

I hear as I hurry toward the door. Bye indeed!

All the while, they're interested plays on a painful loop in my pounding head. Derek's silky voice makes my skin crawl. They're interested... More like he is interested.

And thinking about it now, that's what is beginning to scare me the most.

And what in the world happened with that goddamn flash drive?

Sparing a glance over my shoulder, I see that they're in a heated argument. Derek puffs out his chest and Hayden stands his ground. Are they going to fight here? Out in the open?

The low hum of a large engine echoes in the distance and the pick up truck belonging to Camo Boys 1, 2, and 3 whips into the parking lot. The broken frame is held together with long strips of silver duct tape and a shiny new bumper commands the front. A red, blue, and white confederate flag hangs off the side.

A camouflage cap appears out the window. Derek turns and jumps into the bed of the truck. He stands and points at Hayden before crouching down and the truck speeds away.

Hayden stands in the parking lot for a long time, shoulders rising and falling rapidly until he controls his anger. For some reason, I can't tear my eyes away and head inside. I'm already in this bullshit, what's another twenty-second of looking?

Hayden swings around and punches the side view right off of the Mercedes he stands by. I jump, slapping a hand over my mouth.

Okay, screw those twenty-second, time to go inside.

"Where have you been?" Gabby asks when I approach the crowded lunch table. I shrug, plopping down in my seat.

"Oh just...something wrong with my car," I explain. It's a lame explanation but thankfully Gabby doesn't push it.

"So!" she chirps, "How's the day been for you guys?"

Everyone groans.

I take a bite of my homemade chicken salad sandwich and shrug. It tastes like sand in my mouth but I know from experience it doesn't have to do with my mom's cooking abilities. "Fine. I don't think Nate is going to ask me to hang out anymore."

Gabby's eyes almost pop out of her head. "What? Why?"

When I told her about the events that lead up to the water bucket fiasco with Hayden, my best friend almost broke her computer right in half from so much excitement.

"But I thought he asked you!" Gianna frowns.

My best friend practically lunges at me from across the table, gripping me by my forearms and asking, "Did he take it back? Don't tell me he took it back! I'll kick his ass!"

Frowning, I shake my head. "I mean, he did ask me out but I wasn't able to say anything because of that damn prank. So, I don't know."

She scoots over to the chair beside mine and lets go of my arm. My pale skin is red with handprints and when I give her a look, she dismisses it. "But you were going to say yes, right?"

"Well...." That's what I'm not sure about. I want to—I really, really want to—but can I? What if he doesn't like me? Why not save myself from the embarrassment to begin with?

"Get up, I need to talk to you." Hayden says from behind me.

I turn in my seat and look up at him. "No." I'm done with this drama for the rest of the week.

We lock eyes in another stare-off and I reluctantly get out of my seat. Ideally, I want to be done with talking about it this week, but realistically, there's no way that's going to happen. Not with their track record.

I can't find the energy in me to resist and a part of me pushes to follow him.

Gabby and Gianna Hansen look at me as though I've grown three heads and clown shoes for ears. "What are you doing?" they ask in unison.

"I'll be okay." I assure them. "We...I just need to clear a few things up about detention."

I never told Gabby about the encounter in the woods—or any of it for that matter. And I haven't told my brother either. I can't risk them getting involved—my mom's already on the brink of it.

Hayden and I walk down the hall side-by-side and in silence. It earns a few confused looks from passing students and one of the Spanish teachers looks like he's going to call security. It's okay. I wouldn't believe my eyes either.

We stop at the end of a hall near the library where many people don't linger.

"Shoot," I tell him once we're in seclusion.

"Why were you talking to Derek?" Hayden demands in a harsh whisper.

"He was looking for you and found me instead," I growl. "And he said—he said the craziest shit."

Hayden's jaw clenches tighter. "What did he say?"

I shake my head, unable to believe it even now. "That stupid memory stick? He said I had it. He said—God, I can't believe it—but he said that you seduced me into giving it to you so we could sabotage his plan!"

Hayden's eyes look like they're going to pop out of his head. "He what?" he asks in disbelief.

"I know," I roll my eyes. "He didn't flat out say it—but he insinuated that's what happened." I rake my hands through my hair and pace in circles. "I don't get it! I gave them the memory stick!"

Hard lines appear on Hayden's face and it seems to age him ten years. Hayden takes a step closer. "Whatever you gave him wasn't the right thing."

"I don't believe you," I whisper. "How do you know that?"

Hayden pulls his phone out of his back pocket and shows me a picture of a fuzzy blue and white screen. There's a file opened on the page and at the very top it says 'Ember Chance's Flash Drive' in big black letters. This time, my eyes might pop out of my head. It feels like someone has given me a good kick to the back of my knees and Hayden grabs my arm to keep me steady.

"That's impossible," I wheeze, my voice growing as frantic as my heart. "That can't be mine!"

"What do you mean?"

Tightening my grip on his arm, I whirl around to look up at Hayden, and for the first time in my life, let him see the fear and anxiety in my eyes. "I don't have a personal memory stick! I use Google Drive! iCloud! There's no way that's mine!"

Hayden's eyes narrow to thin slits and suddenly, he's holding onto me just as tight as I'm holding onto him. "Are you sure?"

Dropping his arm, I take a giant step back and slam my fists into the locker behind me. "Yes, Cross! I am sure!"

"Why would someone do this?" he wonders.

Tears sting my eyes. "I don't know. Why would they do that? Who would do that?"

He looks at me for a long time. "I don't know."

A tear slips down my cheek. "That's not good enough."

For a moment, the hardness vanishes from his face, but he turns away from me so that I can't see his face. Hayden exhales deeply and runs a hand through his hair.

"Hayden, what's going on?" I hate how pathetic my voice sounds. I absolutely hate it.

"I don't know," he admits. Hayden turns to look at me and his icy expression makes my blood run cold. "But I'm going to find out."

* * *