In A Holidaze - Christina Lauren Page 0,66

say this so I guess I’ll just come out with it: I feel like you led me on.”

What the hell? My heart has spent a lot of time racing lately, but not like this. Not out of anger and indignation. “How did I lead you on? By being your friend—”

My words are cut off when, not ten feet away, a brilliant explosion of sound, shimmering in its proximity and volume, cuts through the icy air. We both startle violently; a car has run the stop sign and hit another at full speed. It is a blast of metal crunching and glass cracking, of tires screaming on asphalt. Theo dives on me, covering me as something is propelled toward us, shattering the window just behind where my head was only a second ago.

We sit up, dazed. My ears are ringing, and after a hiccupping inhale, adrenaline dumps into my bloodstream. My entire body starts to shake.

“Are you okay?” Theo asks, and his voice sounds like it’s coming through a hollow metal tube.

Numbly, I nod. “Are you?”

“Yeah.”

We stare out at the accident, at steam rising from both cars. My attention catches on a patch of green—a mangled wreath and red velvet ribbon tied to the hood of the larger car.

In the commotion, people pour out of storefronts, crowding around the crash, making sure everyone is okay. What was once a mass of chatting, dawdling, laughing late-shoppers is now a street full of onlookers standing with their hands over their mouths as the drivers emerge, stumbling, from the surprising ruins of their cars.

Theo helps me to my feet, but even once I’m standing— legs shaking beneath me—I can’t move from where I’m rooted. That debris was meant for me, I know it. I’ve done something wrong, taken a bad turn somewhere, and I have no idea what it was, or what’s coming for me next.

But it was a warning.

My time here, in this version of reality, is running out.

chapter twenty-two

I step away from the broken glass and shards of metal that litter the sidewalk nearby, Theo moving behind me. Once the onlookers’ attention moves from the accident in the street to the aftermath all around us, a fair amount of concern is thrown our way, as the two bodies in the immediate vicinity of the crash.

With the scavenger hunt now completely forgotten, our families frantically run over as soon as they spot us in the middle of the chaos. For a few minutes following the relief that no one was gravely injured, Theo and I are drowning in the adrenaline of what everyone saw, what happened, and how close it was. Andrew hugs me, checks that I’m okay, and presses breathless lips to my hair until the others crowd in for their turn. But smack in the center of my stomach is a leaden ball of dread.

I search for him again, seeking his arms and steadying I gaze, but it’s already locked in silent communication with his brother. Very quietly, Andrew says, “I don’t understand why you’re mad.”

“Don’t lie, Drew. You get it.” Theo digs his hands into his pockets and looks around self-consciously as the rest of the group falls into a hush, realizing there’s another conversation happening.

Ricky steps closer, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Hey. Guys. What’s happening here?”

Theo shrugs out of Ricky’s grip. “Stay out of it, Dad.”

Ricky frowns. “What am I missing?”

I want to disappear. My eyes shoot skyward. Kidding!

Theo lifts his chin to Andrew. “Go ahead. You tell him.”

Andrew shakes his head. “Not right now. Not the time.”

“Tell me what?” Ricky asks.

Andrew looks at me then, his expression searching for permission, and I feel the way awareness spreads in a silent wave around the circle. Maybe it’s how Miles looks down at the ground, or Benny steps closer to me, shoulder to shoulder in solidarity, but anyone with even a modicum of emotional intelligence must know what’s being left unsaid.

Well, I guess except Ricky. “Seriously. What’s going on?”

“Maybe we can do this when we get home,” Benny says quietly.

I look gratefully at Benny—the last thing I want is a scene, and I’d prefer to tell my mom myself—but Theo exhales sharply: “Mae and Andrew are hooking up.”

What reaction he was expecting, I have no idea. But the group falls deadly silent before swinging their collective attention to me and Andrew.

“What is considered ‘hooking up’ these days?” Lisa asks quietly, and my stomach drops in mortification.

“Wait,” Ricky says. “Sorry, I feel like I missed something.”

“Whatever.” Theo