If the person on the other end thought they were going to frighten Violet with stupid poems and hang-up calls, they were messing with the wrong girl. Even the dead-animal thing was right up her alley.

Far more terrifying people had come after Violet.

And failed.

The plans to go to the cabin came together surprisingly well. Mostly surprising because Violet’s parents had actually agreed to let her go.

She was still a little stunned, since it was, after all, a boy-girl sleepover. Which sounded like a little kids’ slumber party, but to the parents of teenagers usually conjured up images of illicit sex and illegal alcohol consumption.

Violet had expected her parents to have similar concerns. But apparently they trusted her.

Of course there were several strings attached. Violet’s parents insisted on meeting Mike’s father before the trip, since he was chaperoning. And they wanted to know the names, the parents’ names, and the phone numbers of everyone who would be going on the Saturday night sleepover. They also wanted the address of the cabin. And, of course, an ironclad guarantee from Jay that he would keep an eye on Violet.

That last promise had been easy enough to secure. It was funny how quickly Jay had taken on the role of Violet’s protector once they’d started dating. Actually before then, even.

Funnier still how much faith her parents put in him, considering the fact that Jay would officially be younger than Violet in less than a week.

Violet was about to turn seventeen, while Jay would still be sixteen for nearly two full months.

Jay liked that, the whole older-woman thing. He also liked to joke about the fact that Violet would soon be dating a younger man.

One night, when Violet’s parents had gone out, he teased her about it, whispering against her throat, “I should probably be dating girls my own age now that you’ll be over-the-hill.” Jay was stretched out on Violet’s bed as she curled against him.

Violet laughed, rising to the bait. “Fine,” she challenged, pulling away and leaning up on her elbow. “I’m sure there are plenty of men my own age who would be willing to finish what you’ve started.”

Jay stiffened, and Violet realized that she’d struck a nerve. “What is it?”

He shook his head, and Violet thought he might say, “Nothing,” so when he answered, his words caught her off guard. “Is there someone else, Vi?”

Violet frowned, baffled by the unfamiliar jealousy she saw on his face. She wondered what in the world he meant as she reached down and smoothed a strand of hair from his forehead. “What are you talking about, Jay?”

His eyes met hers. “I saw you with that guy at the movies, Vi. Who was he?”

Violet closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready yet. She didn’t want to tell him about the FBI, about Sara and Rafe or what she’d learned about Mike’s mother. She wondered briefly if he knew about Mike’s mom—if his friend had ever confided in him. But somehow she doubted it. Jay wasn’t like her; he didn’t keep secrets.

“It’s not like that,” she explained, hoping that would be enough.

Jay got up and went to the window, pushing the curtain aside. Every muscle in his body was rigid. “Like what, Vi? What’s going on? Something’s been bothering you lately. Why can’t you tell me?”

He was right. She owed it to him to at least try. “I don’t know how to explain, but I just feel like everything’s changed between us—”

“Of course it’s changed, Violet, what’d you expect?”

Violet tried to ignore the bitterness in his voice, telling herself she had no right to be hurt. “It used to be that I would never keep secrets from you. You were my best friend. But now that we’re dating, it’s just . . . different. I feel like I have to watch what I say, or you get all worried. Sometimes I just want you to be the old Jay again, so I can talk to you.” Violet crept behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his back.

It wasn’t exactly a confession but it was progress, she decided. And soon, very soon, she hoped she’d feel comfortable enough to open up completely.

She felt him relax, and his voice softened. “Is that what this is all about? You feel like you can’t talk to me anymore? We haven’t changed; we’re still the same people.”

She slipped her hands beneath the front of his shirt, slowly running her fingertips over his chest and back down to his waist. He turned in her arms and smiled, but his grin was filled with mocking suspicion. “Are you trying to distract me, Violet Ambrose?”

“I guess you’re smarter than you look,” she teased as he pushed her backward so that they both fell on her bed.

“And you are not as funny as you think you are.” His mouth hovered over hers, his arms tightening, crushing her against him. Violet giggled and tried to squirm free, but Jay wouldn’t let her. He kissed her throat, his lips teasing her until it wasn’t his grip that made it hard for Violet to breathe.

“Oh, and Violet,” he whispered against her ear, his breath tickling her cheek, “I’m still your best friend. Don’t ever forget it.” His words were fervent and touching.

Violet tried to think of a response that made sense, something appropriate, but all she could manage was: “Please. Don’t stop.”

She didn’t mind begging if it meant getting her way.

Apparently that was enough to satisfy Jay, and he kissed her possessively. Thoroughly. Deeply.