I feel the same way now.

“We can’t see each other anymore.” I can’t look at him.

“You mean outside of school, until things settle down with your dad? Right?”

“I mean at all.” My vision blurs, and tears threaten to spill over. “My dad is a cop, and you are a car thief. This will never work out.”

Marco slides around and kneels in front of me, cradling my face in his hands. His dark eyes find mine, the weight of what’s happening bearing down on him.

My mind flashes to the night I knelt in a different parking lot with my heart breaking. This time I’m not the one kneeling, but my heart is breaking all over again.

“You don’t mean that, Frankie. You’re scared. I get it. But you love me, right?” The pain in his voice pulls the loose thread holding me together, and I can’t stop the tears.

Inside, I’m coming apart. “It doesn’t matter if I love you.”

“Bullshit.” He wipes my tears with his thumbs, but they keep falling. “It’s the only thing that matters.” He presses his lips against mine, and my heart doesn’t shatter—it explodes like a bomb inside me, destroying every shred of happiness.

I pull back and scramble to my feet. “I can’t do this. I won’t let my dad use me to bust you. And I can’t let my dad lose his job. He’s still my father. It’s better if we end things now, or it will only hurt even more when it doesn’t work out later.”

Marco stands, his eyes trained on me. “How could it hurt more than this?”

“I’m—” I choke back a sob. “I’m not trying to hurt you. This isn’t easy for me, either.”

Tears pool in his eyes. “Then don’t do it.” It’s a whisper. “I can’t lose you. Don’t give up on us. I’m begging you.”

When Lex pushed me into the pool, my limbs went numb, but they kept thrashing. My body never gave up. Lex pulled me out before it got to that point.

This time there’s no one to pull me out, and the numbness spreads like an infection.

“I’m sorry.” My voice sounds hoarse. “I have to go.”

“Don’t do this, Angel.”

I turn away and head across the parking lot before I fall apart.

If I make it to the bus stop, I’ll be okay.

“Frankie!” Marco calls after me. “I thought our love was the always kind.”

I freeze, tears streaming down my face. I want to tell him about the deal with Dad, and I almost turn around. Then the look on my father’s face flashes through my mind—the one that said he would destroy Marco if I went back on my word.

A promise like that from my dad … it was the always kind, too.

“Frankie?” he calls out again.

I finally understand what Marco meant.… The sky does look different in the Downs. I want to tell him that we can still see the same stars if I tell him about the stars in my sky and he tells me about the ones in his. But I can’t say that now. I swallow the thought along with all the other things I want to say.

Instead of answering him, I run.

* * *

After riding on a smelly bus with a bunch of strangers, I make it home and find Tyson’s Crown Vic parked next to Dad’s Tahoe.

I fumble with the house keys, exhausted and defeated.

Cujo’s ears perk when I walk in, and Dad and Tyson look up from the papers spread across the coffee table.

“What happened?” Dad asks, without a hint of empathy.

“You lost the right to ask me questions like that when you destroyed my life. My note said it all.”

“You didn’t have to go see him.” My father crosses his arms. “Your cell phone works.”

It does. And I want hurl it at his head.

Tyson leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and scowls at Dad. “Take it easy, Jimmy.”

“I held up my end of your warped little deal, and I have nothing else to say to you. So leave me alone.”

Dad watches me from where he’s sitting on the fake-leather sofa. “Don’t try to turn this around. I told you to stay away from that boy. I’m sorry you’re hurting, but you wouldn’t be in this situation if you had listened to me.”

“Is that what you believe?” I laugh, the sound bitter and razor-sharp. “I’m in this situation because you emotionally blackmailed me. If you’re going to throw it in my face, at least be honest.”

“Your dad is just looking out for you, Frankie.” Tyson gives me a halfhearted smile. “We don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I march over to the sofa and stand across from my dad, the coffee table between us. “In case it’s not perfectly clear, you failed. Because I am hurt, and it’s your fault.” Angry tears streak down my face. “You’re supposed to be this badass undercover cop, but instead of looking for the guy who is blackmailing Marco into stealing cars, you went after the victim.”

Tyson stares at the carpet like he wants to bolt.

“Marco was fifteen when his father went to prison, and some lowlife showed up and said he was responsible for his dad’s debt.” Thinking about the story makes me cry harder. “He had two options: pay the guy or watch his little sister get dragged away to foster care. I told you all this, and it didn’t even matter to you.”

Tyson’s head snaps up, and he gives Dad an incredulous look. Did Tyson know the whole story? Or did Dad leave out some of the details?

“Because he could’ve gone to the police,” Dad says.

Tyson looks over at Dad. “A fifteen-year-old living on his own in the Downs? If he narced to the cops, he would’ve ended up in the river, and you know it.” He pulls up his sleeve, exposing the black burns branded into the brown skin on his forearm. “This is the kind of shit that happens when the wrong people see you talking to the cops. It doesn’t matter if you were only giving them directions. You’ve worked in the Downs for a long time, man. But living there when you’re a kid is different.”

“We’re talking about my daughter,” Dad says through gritted teeth.

Tyson nods, but he doesn’t back down. He’s the only guy I know who isn’t intimidated by Dad. “I was there when Frankie was born. You think I’d let anything happen to her?” Tyson lowers his voice. “Let’s talk about this later.”