But Simon just shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and flashing me a know-it-all smile. “I didn’t see any cops.”

I crossed my arms too, but not all show-offy and full of myself, the way he was. I cocked my head to the side and gave him an exasperated look. “Really? So you, what, you thought I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself another second? That I had to have you?”

His grin widened as he raised one eyebrow at me. “Pretty much.”

“Ugh!” I stomped down the porch steps to the sidewalk below. “You’re such an ass!” I shouted over my shoulder. “You knew what I was doing. You knew it was all an act so we wouldn’t get caught,” I insisted, wondering if it was him I was trying to convince, or Natty.

Or maybe it was me, I wondered, pretending to wipe away the memory of what we’d just done from my lips, because my body was still buzzing, and my lips still burned in all the places his had touched seconds earlier.

PART TWO

And so it goes . . .

—Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Day Twenty-Eight

Just outside Zion National Park. Somewhere in Utah.

DRIVING AT NIGHT SHOULD’VE BEEN PEACEFUL, and in a way I guess it was. Thom and Simon sat in front, with Simon doing most of the driving and only handing over the wheel for a two-hour stretch somewhere between Twin Falls, Idaho, and Salt Lake City. That part wasn’t relaxing, though, since Simon muttered beneath his breath almost the entire time about how slow Thom was driving, even though the speed limit on the side roads was well below the fifty Thom was going.

Natty sat next to me, and continued to gawk at me with that weird fascination that made me worry she was gonna blurt out that I was some kind of superhero, the same way Tyler had when he’d learned I could see in the dark and hold my breath for crazy long. Or that she was going to ask me to levitate something, like it was some parlor trick I could conjure on command. If only it were that simple.

I kept frowning at her, reminding her it was our secret and that she needed to keep her mouth shut. Then she’d just nod, like she’d known that all along and I could totally trust her.

Her lips were sealed, she’d tell me with those placating looks.

It went on like that for hours and miles, but at least I wasn’t forced to talk to Simon, to rehash those last few minutes we’d spent alone together in front of the library, because whenever I thought about that, the tops of my ears burned and my toes curled tightly.

What had I been thinking, kissing him like that? Had it really been the only way to avoid being noticed by those cops?

Because now . . . now all I could think was: I’d kissed Simon. And not only that, but he’d kissed me back.

Even worse, I felt guilty because Tyler might be out there somewhere, newly returned and trying to find me the way I was trying to find him. I was ashamed because maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny part of me that hadn’t hated that kiss. Did that make me the worst person ever?

Probably.

Whenever I caught Simon shooting me glances from the rearview mirror, I pretended not to see him. I picked my fingernails and acted like the darkness and the scenery outside were the most fascinating things in the world. Pretty much anything to avoid his gaze.

I didn’t want to know what he was thinking, and I definitely didn’t want to give him any idea what was going on inside my head.

“We’re getting close,” Thom said as he sat up. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

I looked around. We were surrounded by desert that was hardly at all like the desert we’d left behind in Washington, which had long, flat stretches that seemed to last forever.

Here, the land was uneven and rocky, with tall cliffs that sprang up on both sides of us. The rock sheers looked like they’d been hand carved, and even in the darkness I could make out intricate ridgelines and seams that felt like they had a story to tell, marking their passage throughout time. I wondered what they’d look like in the light of day.

“What are we watching for?” I asked, scanning for signs we were no longer alone. It seemed unlikely, though. We were on the only visible road—with no obvious signs or manmade structures in sight.

“Trouble,” Simon warned, raising the hair on the back of my neck.

Natty leaned over the top of me, her breath fogging the glass as she searched too.

“Why would there be trouble?” I asked. “I thought you said they would help us.”

From the passenger seat, Thom was looking too, but I wondered if he could see anything but blackness. “We had no way of letting them know we were coming. Far as they’re concerned, we’re trespassers.”

“It’s late,” Jett said quietly. “They probably don’t even know we’re here.”

“Oh, they know, all right.” Simon’s ominous whisper sent a shiver of trepidation down my spine, as an eerie hush cloaked us.

The ambush, when it finally came, struck Simon’s side of the SUV first. It made sense, I suppose: if I were planning to ambush a vehicle, I’d go for the driver first.

The driver’s-side window shattered, and Simon flinched the way anyone would if the glass next to his head had just exploded without warning. The SUV swerved hard to the right, driving all the way off the road and leaping wildly over the rocks and bushes beside the smooth asphalt.

Simon regained control quickly. But then something solid and hard struck the windshield as well. It was crazy loud, and even though it wasn’t totally unexpected this time, I flinched even harder than the first time. I couldn’t tell whether we’d been hit by a rock or some kind of ball bearing, or whether it was something even more dangerous, like a bullet, but it didn’t matter. The windshield began to fracture, splintering from a point directly in front of Simon’s face and spiderwebbing out in all directions, looking like cut-glass lace.