As Emma grabbed her coat, her phone buzzed in her purse. Her heart almost stopped when she pulled it out and saw that it was Mr. Mercer. She let the call ring through, and a moment later she got a voicemail alert. With shaking fingers, she pressed LISTEN.

“Laurel said you’re not coming home again. I’ll cover for you for one more night,” Mr. Mercer barked into her ear. “But if you’re not back tomorrow…” His voice trailed off and the message ended with a click.

Emma gazed at the phone. She almost wished he had just said his threat outright so she could bring it to the police. But he was too smart for that. At least she didn’t have to deal with him tonight. She was staying at Madeline’s—Charlotte’s parents were hosting a dinner party that night for some of Mr. Chamberlain’s coworkers—but it looked like tomorrow, she’d have no choice but to go back to the Mercers’.

Exhaustion settled around her like a heavy cloak. If she could have curled up inside the locker, she would have. Luckily she was having lunch with Ethan. She needed some quality one-on-one time with the only person she could let her guard down with. He’d been such a rock these past few days especially—he’d called her every night before bed, and had even brought her flowers at Charlotte’s. Mrs. Chamberlain had proclaimed him a keeper.

Emma leaned against her locker for a second and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she found herself staring at Thayer. She jumped, startled.

“Whoa!” Thayer said, holding up his hands. “Just me!”

Emma’s mouth wobbled into a smile. “H-hey,” she said, taking in Thayer’s hazel eyes and gleaming skin. She hadn’t seen him since Sutton’s father’s party, though he’d texted Sutton’s phone a few times. The moment they’d shared had felt a little too intimate for her, and she’d wanted to keep her distance.

Thayer moved a little closer, leaning his hip against the bank of lockers. “I just wanted to check in to see how you’re holding up about…everything,” he said softly.

“I’m…” Suddenly, Emma’s gaze locked on someone behind Thayer. Sutton’s ex, Garrett, had spied both of them, and was barreling toward them fast. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were narrowed into little slits.

Thayer turned, too, and gave Garrett a cautious wave. Garrett just stared at him. “I wouldn’t waste your time talking to Sutton, man. She’s over you. She has a new boyfriend now. Or haven’t you heard?”

“Garrett!” Emma exclaimed.

Thayer rolled his eyes, ignoring him. “Get lost, dude.”

Garrett let out an ugly snort. “Oh, I forgot,” he said sarcastically. “You don’t have much respect for relationships, do you?”

He stared at Thayer. Thayer stared back. For a long moment, neither boy blinked. “Back off,” Thayer said through his teeth.

“Or what? You’ll sleep with my girlfriend? Oh wait, you already have. Because you’re both sluts.”

Thayer’s face turned bright red. Then his fist met Garrett’s face, and Garrett was clutching his jaw. The very next second, Garrett was grabbing Thayer’s shoulders and shaking hard. Thayer tried to remain upright, but his knees buckled and he stumbled on his bad leg.

“Guys, stop!” Emma shrieked, yanking the back of Thayer’s T-shirt. “Please!”

Garrett took another swing at Thayer, but Thayer ducked and circled his arms around Garrett’s waist. Both boys let out guttural groans, and suddenly they were on the floor, rolling around.

“Stop!” Emma shrieked again.

I watched in horror…but also in awe. I wasn’t sure if two boys had ever fought over me before, and it was kind of flattering.

“Fight!” yelled a scrawny guy in a flannel shirt. Instantly, Hollier students materialized from out of nowhere, gawking at the boys on the ground. Members of the marching band streamed from the auditorium to watch, and kids swarmed from classrooms, forming an amoeba-like cluster around Garrett and Thayer. Half the crowd held up their cell phones to capture the action.

Now the boys were on their feet again. Thayer lunged at Garrett, but a soccer player Emma recognized intervened and yanked Garrett out of the fray. “Stop it, man,” he growled into Garrett’s ear. “Fighting will get you kicked off the team.”

Garrett struggled against him, his eyes blazing and his chest heaving hard. “You’re an asshole,” he hissed at Thayer.

“So are you,” Thayer spat, standing in the middle of the circle. His nose was dripping blood.

The crowd began to break up as quickly as it had formed. Emma rushed to Thayer and touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“That guy is crazy,” Thayer rasped, catching his breath. He ran a hand over his jaw and winced.

“You shouldn’t have provoked him!” Emma cried.

Thayer rotated his shoulder gently, then met her gaze. “It’s one thing for him to say things about me. But I can’t stand him insulting you.”

A warm feeling swelled in Emma’s stomach, and she felt herself blush. It was kind of touching that Thayer was so chivalrous, standing up for her like that. Even sort of…romantic.

I was touched, too. Especially because he was standing up for me, not my sister.

Someone cleared his throat behind her. Emma turned and saw Ethan nudging through the remnants of the crowd, looking worried and confused. Emma sank into him, relieved Ethan couldn’t read her thoughts. “Hey,” she murmured.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “I heard there was a fight and you were in the middle of it.”

Emma shook her head, glancing from Ethan to Thayer, then back to Ethan again. It felt weird to talk about what the fight was about. “It’s over,” she said simply. “And I’m fine. Thayer was…protecting my honor.”

Ethan glanced at Thayer for a long moment, then he stuck out his hand. “Well, in that case, thanks, man.”

Thayer shook it. “Anytime.”

Then Ethan put his arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Want to get out of here? We could do lunch off campus or something.”

“Okay,” Emma said quietly. She glanced over her shoulder once more to say bye to Thayer and make sure he was okay. But he was gone.

Fifteen minutes later, Ethan pulled his rattling Honda Civic into a parking lot surrounded by ivy-covered trellises and beautiful rose gardens. A quaint restaurant called Le Garçon stood a few feet away in an old Victorian mansion that looked like an overgrown gingerbread house. It was incongruous to see such architecture in adobe-filled, Southwestern-style Tucson, which made it all the more exotic.

“After the week you’ve had, I thought you could use a little break,” Ethan said, leading her into the restaurant. It was cool inside, and smelled like fresh flowers. When Emma’s eyes adjusted to the light, she could see a few tables covered with white linens. Oak beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and tiny vases held light pink roses alongside white Christmas lights. The back doors were flung open to the enormous garden, and a harpist played soft, tinkling notes in the corner.

“Whoa,” Emma said, watching as the waiter passed with trays of rich-looking food. “This seems really fancy, Ethan. And expensive.” She glanced at him worriedly. “Do you want me to pay?”

“Of course not.” Ethan made a face. “I got this covered.”

Emma took his hand as a maître d’ led them to a table.

I was surprised and impressed by Ethan’s choice, too. It was exactly the kind of date I would’ve planned—secluded enough to be romantic, but populated with the right kind of crowd.

They sat down and spread their napkins across their laps. A waiter came by and poured each of them a glass of water, which Emma drank thirstily. Ethan watched her, his chin resting in his hands. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“Stop.” Emma ducked her head.

“It’s true,” Ethan insisted. “But you also look tired. Have you been able to sleep at all?”

“Only a little,” Emma admitted quietly. She scanned the room. Aside from a couple of well-dressed women a few tables over, who gave Emma a quick glance and then looked away, the bustling restaurant didn’t seem to notice them. “I just want tomorrow to get here already so I can search Mr. Mercer’s office. I’m sick of biding my time. I want this over with.”

Ethan reached across the table and took her hands. “Of course. But let’s try not to think about it, okay? You need a break—you deserve a little while off the case.”

His voice was gentle but firm, and Emma forced herself to loosen her shoulders. “Okay,” she whispered.

At the next table over, a woman in a tight black dress and a man in a skinny tie studied the wine list. A few people were sitting at the bar, laughing pleasantly. The vibe was understated, but classy. Emma had a feeling her sister would have loved it here.

I smiled. She was right.

“Oh!” Ethan said with a broad grin. “I meant to tell you, I finally got into the traffic cam system! You were right, it was the Devious Four.”

“That’s amazing!” Emma exclaimed, leaning over the table to give him a quick kiss. “The girls will be so happy!”

“Yeah, I’ll just splice together the footage and email you guys the file,” Ethan said, his cheeks a little flushed.

“Perfect.”

A waiter set a basket of assorted rolls on the table. “Would the lovely young couple like to hear the specials?” he asked, jutting one hip forward and smoothing a hand over his carrot-colored hair. “The tuna tartare is out of this world. And don’t get me started on the braised lamb chops with mint sauce.” He made an orgasmic face.

Emma giggled. “That sounds delicious. I’ll have that,” she said.

“Great choice!” the waiter trilled. “And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the shrimp cocktail,” Ethan said, breaking off a piece of rye bread and popping it into his mouth. “And, um, the steak. Medium rare.”

“Medium rawr!” the waiter faux-growled, curling his hand like a lion, then sauntered off.

For a moment, Emma kept her eyes on her lap, but when she saw Ethan’s mouth wobbling into a grin, she burst into laughter. They exchanged a glance, and both started giggling harder. “Rawr!” Ethan imitated.

“Great choice! Too bad he doesn’t work at the cafeteria at Hollier,” Emma joked. “Can you imagine? ‘Uh, I’ll have the French bread pizza.’ ‘Great choice!’” she said, moving her hips from side to side flamboyantly.

“Or at a prison lunch line.” Ethan hunched his shoulders and spoke in a thuggish voice. “Yo, man, I’ll have the meat loaf slop and a side of yesterday’s green beans.”

“Great choice!” Emma crowed in refrain, snorting with giggles. “Or what if he were the telephone operator at a sketchy Chinese restaurant?”

Ethan held up his hand to his ear, imitating a telephone. “Uh, hi, I’ll have General Tso’s chicken?”