“She’s going crazy with worry. Can’t I give her something?”
“Not now. I’ll tell her myself.”
“Why can’t I tell her now?”
He sighs. “Because I’m somewhere, getting help. And I just need time.”
“Help for what?”
His words come out in a rush. “I can’t explain. Not right now. But I will, I promise . . . when things are different for me. Please just know that I’m doing the best thing for me, and for us, for the long run.”
I stare out the window. What does that mean?
“I’m going to come back a changed person.” Thayer’s voice cracks slightly. “I’m going to be ready to be your boyfriend, for real.”
A tiny flare of hope blooms in my chest. For real. Two weeks ago, that was all I wanted to hear from him, but now it might be too little, too late. There’s Garrett to think about now.
Still, I can’t keep myself from asking in a small voice, “So, you didn’t run off with Mary?”
“Mary?” The line crackles. “God, no, Sutton. Absolutely not. You’re the only one I want to be with.” He pauses again, and I hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. “So, what do you say? Will you wait a little bit longer for me? We’ll find a way to be together, soon.”
My heart pounds. What should I do? Who do I choose? The boy who’s here, who’s cute and stable and sweet? Or the boy who’s sexy and mysterious . . . but also mysteriously absent?
I wait for a beat before bringing the phone back to my ear. And then I clear my throat and say what I never imagined saying before.
“I don’t know, Thayer,” I say. “I just don’t know.”
“Sutton, what do you—”
“I have to go,” I say quickly, the words clogging my throat. Then I hang up.
And maybe let Thayer go, for real.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This ebook was a pleasure to work on, and first I want to thank my sister, Ali, for taking me to Vegas the first time; MINI Cooper, for requiring me to pick up a car in Vegas the second time; the Harrah’s in New Orleans for more gambling tips; and the casino down the street from where I lived in Tucson, which is where I learned blackjack. (I am by no means good.) Also thanks to Lanie Davis, Sara Shandler, Katie McGee, and the rest of the awesome Alloy crew, and to Kari Sutherland at Harper. A huge hug for Micol Ostow, too—thank you, thank you, thank you!
PROLOGUE
I woke up in a dingy claw-foot bathtub in an unfamiliar pink-tiled bathroom. A stack of Maxim s sat next to the toilet, green toothpaste globbed in the sink, and white drips streaked the mirror. The window showed a dark sky and a full moon. What day of the week was it? Where was I? A frat house at the U of A? Someone’s apartment? I could barely remember that my name was Sutton Mercer, or that I lived in the foothills of Tucson, Arizona. I had no idea where my purse was, and I didn’t have a clue where I’d parked my car. Actually, what kind of car did I drive? Had someone slipped me something?
“Emma?” a guy’s voice called from another room. “You home?”
“I’m busy!” called a voice close by.
A tall, thin girl opened the bathroom door, her tangled dark hair hanging in her face. “Hey!” I leapt to my feet. “Someone’s in here already!” My body felt tingly, as if it had fallen asleep. When I looked down, it seemed like I was flickering on and off, like I was under a strobe light. Freaky. Someone definitely slipped me something.
The girl didn’t seem to hear me. She stumbled forward, her face covered in shadows.
“Hel lo ?” I cried, climbing out of the tub. She didn’t look over. “Are you deaf?” Nothing. She pumped a bottle of lavender-scented lotion and rubbed it on her arms.
The door flung open again, and a snub-nosed, unshaven teenage guy burst in. “Oh.” His gaze flew to the girl’s tight-fitting T-shirt, which said NEW YORK-NEW YORK ROLLER COASTER on the front. “I didn’t know you were in here, Emma.”
“That’s maybe why the door was closed ?” Emma
“Not now. I’ll tell her myself.”
“Why can’t I tell her now?”
He sighs. “Because I’m somewhere, getting help. And I just need time.”
“Help for what?”
His words come out in a rush. “I can’t explain. Not right now. But I will, I promise . . . when things are different for me. Please just know that I’m doing the best thing for me, and for us, for the long run.”
I stare out the window. What does that mean?
“I’m going to come back a changed person.” Thayer’s voice cracks slightly. “I’m going to be ready to be your boyfriend, for real.”
A tiny flare of hope blooms in my chest. For real. Two weeks ago, that was all I wanted to hear from him, but now it might be too little, too late. There’s Garrett to think about now.
Still, I can’t keep myself from asking in a small voice, “So, you didn’t run off with Mary?”
“Mary?” The line crackles. “God, no, Sutton. Absolutely not. You’re the only one I want to be with.” He pauses again, and I hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. “So, what do you say? Will you wait a little bit longer for me? We’ll find a way to be together, soon.”
My heart pounds. What should I do? Who do I choose? The boy who’s here, who’s cute and stable and sweet? Or the boy who’s sexy and mysterious . . . but also mysteriously absent?
I wait for a beat before bringing the phone back to my ear. And then I clear my throat and say what I never imagined saying before.
“I don’t know, Thayer,” I say. “I just don’t know.”
“Sutton, what do you—”
“I have to go,” I say quickly, the words clogging my throat. Then I hang up.
And maybe let Thayer go, for real.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This ebook was a pleasure to work on, and first I want to thank my sister, Ali, for taking me to Vegas the first time; MINI Cooper, for requiring me to pick up a car in Vegas the second time; the Harrah’s in New Orleans for more gambling tips; and the casino down the street from where I lived in Tucson, which is where I learned blackjack. (I am by no means good.) Also thanks to Lanie Davis, Sara Shandler, Katie McGee, and the rest of the awesome Alloy crew, and to Kari Sutherland at Harper. A huge hug for Micol Ostow, too—thank you, thank you, thank you!
PROLOGUE
I woke up in a dingy claw-foot bathtub in an unfamiliar pink-tiled bathroom. A stack of Maxim s sat next to the toilet, green toothpaste globbed in the sink, and white drips streaked the mirror. The window showed a dark sky and a full moon. What day of the week was it? Where was I? A frat house at the U of A? Someone’s apartment? I could barely remember that my name was Sutton Mercer, or that I lived in the foothills of Tucson, Arizona. I had no idea where my purse was, and I didn’t have a clue where I’d parked my car. Actually, what kind of car did I drive? Had someone slipped me something?
“Emma?” a guy’s voice called from another room. “You home?”
“I’m busy!” called a voice close by.
A tall, thin girl opened the bathroom door, her tangled dark hair hanging in her face. “Hey!” I leapt to my feet. “Someone’s in here already!” My body felt tingly, as if it had fallen asleep. When I looked down, it seemed like I was flickering on and off, like I was under a strobe light. Freaky. Someone definitely slipped me something.
The girl didn’t seem to hear me. She stumbled forward, her face covered in shadows.
“Hel lo ?” I cried, climbing out of the tub. She didn’t look over. “Are you deaf?” Nothing. She pumped a bottle of lavender-scented lotion and rubbed it on her arms.
The door flung open again, and a snub-nosed, unshaven teenage guy burst in. “Oh.” His gaze flew to the girl’s tight-fitting T-shirt, which said NEW YORK-NEW YORK ROLLER COASTER on the front. “I didn’t know you were in here, Emma.”
“That’s maybe why the door was closed ?” Emma
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