“Maybe I could sneak into school at night,” I said.

“Wow, you are really serious about this,” Madison said. “Why don’t you just get detention?”

“What?”

“If that’s how Dustin got back there, it’ll probably work for you, too,” Madison said reasonably. “We can get detention, too, if you want company,” she added, holding Dustin Jr. aloft with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Pissing off Strachan is like my new full-time job. Dustin can pee on his desk or something.”

“No way,” Dustin said.

“I meant the baby.”

“I know you meant the baby. I mean no way can you piss off Strachan, Mad. He’s itching for an excuse to throw you out of school. But if you want help looking, Amy, I can go with you. I just have to show up late for class a couple of times.”

Madison stuck out her glossy lower lip in a fake pout. “You’re so boring,” she sighed.

“Strachan would love to throw me out, too,” I mused. “I have to figure out a way to get in trouble without actually getting in trouble.”

“Don’t you have detention already? Like, technically?” Madison asked, batting her eyelashes. “I seem to remember a certain hallway fight with a defenseless pregnant chick.”

“Of course,” I said, practically slapping my forehead with the heel of my hand. “I’ll just tell him I feel bad getting out of my suspension. You’re totally brilliant, Madison.”

“I know,” she said airily, polishing off her sundae and eyeballing the dish like she was ready to order another. How was she so fit? “Breastfeeding,” she said, answering my unasked question. “Plus, carrying this little sucker around all day is a total workout. I’m in the best shape of my life.”

“If I watch you eat any more ice cream, I’m going to puke,” Dustin said firmly, pushing the plate away. Dustin Jr. woke up and wailed aloud as if in protest. Heads turned as Madison tried unsuccessfully to shush him. “We better get home,” Dustin said to me. “But I’ll see you tomorrow in the clink.” He grinned, and I wanted to hug them both. For the first time since I’d gotten back to Kansas, I had a plan.

“See you tomorrow,” I said.

TWELVE

I let myself into my mom’s apartment building. The hallway was dim and quiet. Someone’s cat slunk past me—probably the source of the cat-pee smell in the hallway. My mom was home, and the apartment was full of delicious cooking smells. A guy I didn’t recognize was sitting on the couch.

“Hi,” he said, jumping to his feet eagerly as I walked in. “You must be Amy. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Jake.” He held out one hand and I stared at him for a second before realizing he meant for me to shake it.

“Uh, hi,” I said. He was pretty handsome, in a farmer kind of way—he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, but his stubble gave him a rugged, manly look instead of a scruffy one. He was wearing a T-shirt that revealed tan, muscled arms, and jeans that were clean but far from new. He took off his John Deere baseball cap as he shook my hand.

“Amy?” My mom came into the room from the kitchen. She was wearing her favorite (and shortest) skirt and a low-cut top that showed off her cleavage. Her hair was piled in a messy, flattering bun on top of her head, and her cheeks were bright with pink blush. But she had an apron on over her bar-hopping ensemble, and she was holding a long-handled wooden spoon in one hand. She gave me a one-armed hug. “How was school? You met Jake?”

“School was fine,” I said. “And yeah, we just met.”

“Jake lives down the hall,” my mom said, but from the look she gave him, I had the feeling he was a lot more than just her new neighbor. “He lost his place in the tornado, too.”

“You’re from Dusty Acres?” I asked, surprised. I was pretty sure I’d have remembered this guy if I’d seen him before.

“No, from Montrose,” he said, naming a town even smaller than ours a couple of miles away. “We were basically flattened in the tornado, but the nearest emergency housing was here. I lost everything—my farm, my whole house. Your mom’s been really kind to me since I moved in here. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

I bet, I thought sourly. They were looking at each other in a way that made me want to barf at the same time it made me think of Nox. I cleared my throat, and my mom jumped.

“Sorry, honey!” she chirped. “I should have told you Jake might be coming over for dinner. I’m making spaghetti!” <