Layne drew her legs up to sit cross-legged on the tailgate, her hands in her lap. It put half her face in light, half in shadow, like a challenging angel trying to decide between good and evil.

“You said yesterday that any time someone comes close to figuring you out, you pick a fight. You did it this morning in the woods, and you’re doing it now. If you’re not this thug player who can’t pass math, then what are you hiding?”

“What are you hiding?”

“I asked first.”

He looked out at the night again but his heart was running a marathon in his chest. “You already know Nick was taking my tests for me.”

She cocked her head to the side and gave a little shrug.

“That’s not even a secret. That’s like me saying, I have a deaf little brother.”

Gabriel shrugged. Truths were clawing at his lips, begging to escape. God, to tell someone.

No way. Like he could sit here, trapped on the tailgate, and spill everything. Gee, well, I can control fire. Oh, and those articles in the paper? They’re talking about me. And maybe I should mention that I’ve been thinking about your arms around me all day. Or how I’ve wanted to kiss you for days, but right now that would make me no better than Ryan Stacey . . .

Yeah, that would be great. He drew a choking breath and fought for words.

“How about,” she said, her voice careful, “I get a question, then you get a question.”

That made him smile. “Like truth or dare?”

She blushed and her eyes dropped. “I’ve never played that.”

“Come on, Layne, kids play that when they’re ten.”

“Not all kids.”

She could be so fierce one minute, yet so innocent the next, and it was seriously making him crazy. “All right, go. Truth.”

“I told you I don’t know how to play.”

Gabriel leaned in and whispered, “The name of the game might be a giveaway.”

Her eyes flicked up, sparking with defiance, and for a breathless moment he regretted not choosing dare.

“Truth,” she said. “Why did you start cheating in math?”

At least that slammed the brakes on his train of thought. “Because I stopped passing. In seventh grade.”

“When your parents died.” Her voice was tentative, but it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. I’d never been an A student or anything, but after that . . . I didn’t even want to be at school, much less do any work.” He shrugged and leaned against the side of the tailgate to look at her. “I was in danger of being held back, and things were already so messed up. Nick started doing it for me, just to get us through the year.”

But Gabriel remembered that first week of eighth grade, when he’d decided he was done cheating, that he didn’t need his brother’s help. He’d struggled to figure out how to solve every problem. Losing three months to his family mess, then another three to summer hadn’t exactly set him up to start pre-algebra.

But he’d been ready to put his brain to a task, to do something normal, something routine, when so much of his life wasn’t.

Then Nick had come into his room with an identical paper.

“Here,” he’d said, and his voice had been almost proud. “I did your math.”

Gabriel glanced across at Layne, who was still waiting, still listening. “Nick wasn’t into sports or anything. He needed to be doing something, to be helping. To have a purpose. I didn’t want to take it away from him.” He snorted. “Christ, that sounds lame.”

“No,” she said. “No, I think I get it.”

“At first I would do the work and throw it away. But I hated lying to him, so I stopped. Then I hit high school and made varsity freshman year, and it was just one less class to worry about.

Now I’m so far behind that I don’t think I’ll ever make up the difference.”

“I’ll help you,” she said.

“You can try.” He almost reached out to push the hair back from her face. “Your turn.”

She held his eyes. “Truth.”

“How did Taylor get you to that party, really?” He gave her a quick once-over. “Especially looking like that.”

She shifted to look out at the darkness. “I changed my mind.

Dare.”

Gabriel slid his cell phone out of his pocket and held it out.

“Okay. Here. I dare you to call your father and tell him you’re sitting in a dark parking lot with me.”

“Ooooh.” She glared up at him without any real malice. “I don’t think I like this game.”

He smiled. “Come on, pony up.”

She folded her arms across her stomach and sighed. Her voice came out very small, warring with the crickets and water. “Taylor told me that she’d talked to you and that you hoped to see me there. My friend Kara picked my clothes.”

Oh.

Suddenly he felt like he’d had a hand in this, though he hadn’t known anything about it. “Layne,” he said. “Taylor never talked to me. I swear ”

“I know! I figured it out, okay? That’s why I feel like such an idiot.”

Navigating this conversation made controlling fire seem easy.

“But I would have ”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

“Layne, let me ”

“Your turn!”

He drew back and sighed. “Truth.”