myself.
The elevator doors ding open in front of me. There are twelve floors—twelve shiny gold buttons taunting me. He could be on any of them. I curse myself for not checking ahead of time where they were staying, for trying to act like I didn’t care, as if asking any questions might give away my feelings. The elevator gets impatient with me and the doors close again and then reopen, reminding me I’m supposed to push a button or get the hell out. I sigh and go back into the hallway. If only there were some way to get him to leave the room—to force him to come back downstairs and away from Danielle. But there’s not really anything that could possibly pull any teenage boy away from sex, especially sex with Danielle Oliver; probably only threat of death or fire.
And then it hits me, the idea so absurd I almost choke.
I look up at the wall in front of me, the beautiful filigreed wallpaper, the dark wooden beams crisscrossing just below the ceiling, and there it is, a little red box above my head with a white lever, black words printed across it: PULL DOWN IN CASE OF EMERGENCY. In case of emergency. Probably not what they had in mind, but an emergency all the same.
So I pull down.
The air around me shifts and stills, and I stop breathing, listening only to the steady beating of my heart in my chest—and then like a sleeping dragon roused from its slumber, the building roars to life. All around me alarms start wailing, high pitched and screeching, and when I run back into the lobby, everything is chaos.
“Everyone outside!” the concierge is shouting. “This is not a drill.”
All the teachers have come back out of the ballroom, ushering students outside through the lobby. Jarrod Price runs by me with the entire tray full of chicken. Mr. Harrison looks pale, his face drawn, and I feel a rush of guilt that I’m the one who did this.
Sophie Piznarski is by the concierge desk, holding her shoes in one hand, and when she notices me, she hurls herself toward me. “Keely! What’s happening? Is there a real fire?”
“Have you seen Andrew?” I ask her, which I realize is not a sensible response.
“What?” she asks, and suddenly her voice is high and wavering like she might cry. “Is he okay?”
“There’s no fire,” I say quickly, scanning the area behind her. People are rushing down the main staircase. Jason Ryder slides down the banister, laughing, and I can tell he’s drunk. Ava is with him, wearing his suit jacket over her bra, her purple hair all over the place.
“I have to go,” I say to Sophie, booking it over to Ava. “There’s no fire!” I call out again behind my back, hoping she’ll calm down. “Ava!” I almost crash into her.
“Everybody outside!” Mr. Harrison says, herding us toward the front doors. The crowd around us is growing and we get pushed through. The night air is warm and wet and things feel calmer now that the sound of the siren has muffled. I scan everywhere for Andrew but there are too many people and it’s too dark.
We spot Chase standing in the crowd and head over to him.
“Dude!” Ryder says. “Prom was so lit it caught on fire!”
“Were you smoking in your room?” Chase says, and Ryder grins.
“Is everyone okay?” Ava shouts.
“Everyone’s fine,” I shout back. “I pulled the alarm.”
They all gawk at me.
“What?” Chase asks. “Why?”
“Collins doesn’t break rules,” Ryder sputters to Chase, talking about me like I’m not even here.
“Where’s Danielle?” I turn to Ava. “Do you know what room she was in?”
“Is she trapped?” Ava asks, her eyes going big.
“She’s fine!” I say. “There’s no fire.” The crowd around us is growing and I know Andrew has to be out here somewhere, but I can’t see him through the mass of bodies. “What room were Danielle and Andrew in?”
“I can’t remember,” Ava says. “I can text her and . . .” She pulls open her purse and