Chapter Ten
Skylar
The corridor smells of cheap perfume, and something fried drifting in from the cafeteria.
Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting everything in a sickly glow. Lockers slam open and shut. The noise presses in, squeezing the air from my lungs, turning every breath into a battle.
Cassie moves beside me, her voice low, talking about something we’re supposed to hand in for English.
I nod at the right places but don’t really hear her.
My fingers clamp the strap of my bag, nails biting into the canvas. I keep my eyes on the tiles, counting the cracks instead of looking at the faces that turn when I walk past.
They’re not saying anything. Not yet. But the itch between my shoulder blades is already there.
The way whispers travel faster than footsteps in this place. Something in the air’s shifted, sharp around the edges, and I can’t tell if the change is crawling under my skin or hanging in the air around them.
Cassie stops at her locker, twisting the dial.
“Did you do the reading?”
“Yeah,” I lie.
She side-eyes me. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
She doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t press.
It’s been a week since I last saw him.
Zane’s seat in homeroom stays empty. His boots don’t drag across the floor. His hoodie or that black leather jacket aren’t slung over the back of his chair. He’s gone, and no one even mentions him. Teachers still call his name, pause for half a beat, then move on.
I tell myself I don’t care. That I’m glad he’s not here. That what happened on that rooftop was a mistake and I’m better off without him.
But the memory keeps clawing back with those fucking words he threw at me before he left.
Cassie’s locker swings open with a screech. She mutters something about forgetting her gym shirt again, but I’m watching the hallway.
Cassie leans in, spritzing way too much perfume over her neck.
The sweetness hits hard, thick enough to taste. It clings to the back of my throat.
I cough, waving it away.
“Jesus, you trying to kill someone?”
She smirks. “Boys like girls who smell good.”
“Boys like tits and trauma,” I mutter, waving the cloud away.
She pulls out her notebook and slams the locker shut, then turns.
“You’re off today. Weird off.”
“Just tired.” I shrug.
“You’ve been tired all week.”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
We start walking, dodging groups of boys yelling about some game, pass girls reapplying lip gloss in mirrors, teachers barking about passes. Everything is too loud. Too close.
My eyes dart to the far doors again, but he’s not there.
Cassie stops in front of the drinking fountain, pressing the button and taking a sip, before she squints up at me.
“Okay, what’s with the murder face?”
“I don’t have a murder face.”
“You do. Your eye’s twitching. Pretty sure you scared that scrawny kid into dropping his juice box out of fear.”
“For fuck’s sake, Cassie, I’m fine.”
She plants herself in front of me, arms crossed, that trademark Cassie death-glare locked and loaded.
“Girl, you just lied to my face. NASA’s probably tracking your bullshit from space.”
I almost crack, but I hold it in. Barely.
“You wanna tell me, or should I start guessing?” She doesn’t wait. “Okay, first guess—you finally snapped and buried Dolores in the backyard.”
My lip twitches.
“Second—you found your birth certificate and your real name’s... wait for it… Dorcas Moonshine.”
That gets a snort out of me.
“Three: you joined a TikTok cult that drinks neon sludge, sobs to sad-girl edits, and thinks burning sage cures childhood trauma.”
I choke on a laugh. “You’re such a dick.”
She smirks victoriously. “There she is. I fucking told myself you hadn’t disappeared.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Let’s go, Dorcas Moonshine. We’re skipping class.”
“Cass.”
“Don’t Cass me. I’m being a supportive friend. Against my better judgment.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere sacred.”
She pushes open the side door, and we head down the back path behind the cafeteria.
A guy I don’t recognize is leaning against the wall, hoodie up, cigarette in hand.
He spots us and smirks. “Yo, Skylar. Wanna ditch your babysitter and come sit on my face?”
I don’t even blink. “How about you go fuck yourself? Should be easy. You’ve had enough practice.”
He coughs on his smoke.
Cassie bursts out laughing beside me. “Jesus, warn me next time you go full castration with words.”
She pulls my arm and drags me off the path.
“Where are we going now?” I mutter, heels skidding in the gravel.
“To the sacred wall of bad decisions and emotional breakthroughs,” she says, yanking me down the hill behind the gym.
We duck behind the old incinerator, a brick wall cracked with graffiti.
Cassie drops her bag and slides down with a grunt, legs sprawled out in front of her. She digs into her hoodie pocket and pulls out a joint, holding it up like it’s holy.
I squint at her.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
Cassie sticks it between her lips and lights it, taking a long, practiced drag before grinning around the smoke.
“Gave Tyler Finch a blowjob behind the music room.”
My jaw drops.
She passes me the joint.
“And before you judge, his cock is actually impressive. I’m talking ruin-your-standards, question-everything-you-knew-about-size impressive.”
I shake my head, snorting as I sit beside her. “You’re unbelievable.”
Cassie exhales, smoke curling around her smile.
“Thank you. I try.”
She takes another hit, leans her head back against the wall, and looks over at me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sky?”
I blink. “Jesus. Subtle.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit answer either. I know you better than anyone. Spill.”
I stare at the gravel between my shoes, toeing a broken bottle cap like it might hold the answer.
Part of me wants to say it. Spill the whole messy truth to her.
Zane, the rooftop, the way he looked at me right before he walked away like I was something he regretted touching. The way it sits inside me now. Hollow. Dumb. Used. Even though I swore I wouldn’t let anyone do that to me again.
But the words get stuck.
Plus there’s the other thing. The louder thing.
Eighteen in two weeks. No more roof over my head unless I find one myself. And I have no fucking clue where I’m supposed to go when the clock runs out.
I scratch at the frayed knee of my jeans and say nothing.
Cassie sighs. “You’re doing that thing again. Where you shut down and pretend you’re fine until you explode or ghost me for two weeks.”
I lift a shoulder, still not looking at her.
She bumps my arm.
“Sky. Talk to me.”
I take the joint from her fingers and breathe it in, trying to stall. But the burn in my throat doesn’t drown the panic rising in my chest.
Cassie watches me, eyes narrowed like she’s already decided she’s not letting this slide.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to pull a full FBI sting? Because I swear to God, I will waterboard your ass with Mountain Dew.”
I huff a laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Uh-huh.” She takes the joint back, blows smoke up toward the crumbling brick above us. “And you’re so full of shit. Seriously, Sky, you’re scaring me. What happened?”
I lean back against the wall, the warmth seeping through my shirt, and let my head fall back.
“I did something stupid,” I say finally.
Cassie goes still.
“Like… dye-your-hair-with-food-coloring stupid or…” Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, did you get matching tattoos with someone?”
“No,” I snap. My voice drops. “Worse.”
She blinks. “How much worse?”
“I… It was Zane.”
Cassie chokes. “Zane… As in, tall, broody, emotionally unavailable Zane?”
I nod, jaw tight.
“We were on the roof of this abandoned building. It was intense. And then I…” My voice trails off, heat crawling up my neck.
Cassie stares. “Wait. Did you blow him?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t.”
“Oh my god. You did.”
“Cass—”
“Holy shit.”
“I said don’t.”
Cassie exhales a curl of smoke and grins at me through the haze. “So… what was his cock like?”
I choke on air. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dead serious. I’ve always wondered. Zane’s got that silent-storm energy. I bet he’s big. No way a guy with hands like that isn’t hiding a fucking monster.”
I shake my head but can’t stop the heat crawling up my throat.
“Yeah, he’s big. And no, I’m not giving you inches.”
Cassie leans in, wide-eyed.
“Oh come on, throw a girl a bone. Preferably his.” She laughs.
I stare at the cracked concrete under our feet.
“After that, he fucking walked away. Didn’t say a word. Left me there as if I was some piece of shit he used to get off.”
“Fucker.”
I nod, jaw clenched. “And there’s that other thing.”
Cassie narrows her eyes. “What thing?”
“I turn eighteen in two weeks. You get what that means. What if I have to sleep on the fucking street, Cass?”
“I won’t let that happen. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that?” My voice cracks on the last word. “You gonna pull a spare bedroom out of your ass?”
She blows out smoke, flicks ash against the wall, after that shifts closer, nudges her shoulder against mine.
“I don’t have a place either, Sky. You get that. But if you end up on the street, we’ll be fucking roommates under a bridge.”
“Great,” I mutter. “We’ll start a girl gang. Fight raccoons for snacks.”
“Exactly. You, me, and a sharp stick. We’ll survive.”
I laugh, my shoulders easing a little. Trust Cass to drag me out of the dark with zero effort.
She chews the inside of her cheek before exhaling hard. “You’re gonna hate me.”
I tense. “What now?”
She won’t look at me. Keeps picking at a crack in the brick wall instead.
“I heard where he went.”
Heat pulses under my skin. “Who… Zane?”
She nods once. “He’s not coming back to school.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“I heard he’s working full-time down at that grimy mechanic place on Harris Street.”
I stare at her. “And you’re just telling me now?”
“I wasn’t sure if it was true. But I saw him yesterday.”
“What?”
“He looked… rough. Tired. But free.” Her gaze softens. “He got out, Sky.”
“Right. Good for him.” I laugh, bitter.