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1.23

The door boomed under her rapid-fire assault. If Ash hadn’t learned long ago never to barge into a teenage boy’s room, she’d have kicked the door down. The light trickling in from the hallway window was pale and watery. She could not believe she was up that early, especially during Spring Break. It had been a looong time since she woke Sam up.

She pounded on the door again. On the third knock, Sam answered, looking like how she felt. Dark, bloodshot eyes, hair astray, he stood in the doorway wearing nothing but athletic boxer briefs and a confused expression.

“Wha—what’s wrong? What time is it?”

Ash stormed into his bedroom, head on a swivel, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was still an 18-year-old boy’s room, so it wasn’t exactly clean, but there definitely wasn’t a teenage girl hiding anywhere.

“Put some pants on, Samael.”

Sam paused rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to look down. He started and hunted for something to put on. He stumbled to the dresser and nearly fell over pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants.

Her pulse slowed a bit, but not by much. “Where is she?”

“Where is…who?” Sam collapsed back onto his bed with a jaw-cracking yawn.

“What do you mean ‘where is who’? Where is Veronica? What happened last night? Why didn’t you text me?” After each rapid-fire question, she took a step closer to him. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you all night, Sam Dyer. I called the hospital this morning, and there hasn’t been any change with Dad, Alice, or Judy.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. I just woke up.”

Ash’s eyes burned with intensity, not sure if she was going to scream, or cry, or both. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then took a deep breath. “What. Happened. With. Veronica?”

Sam buried his face into a pillow. “It didn’t go according to plan.” His voice was hollow, devoid of emotion.

“What do you mean? I set everything up for you. It was a done deal. All you had to do was seal it. If there ever was a sure thing, Veronica Chambers is it.” She sat on the bed, nudging him until he made room for her to sit. “Something happened. You’ve been incommunicado all night.”

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“I mean nothing happened. Nothing was ever going to happen. It just wasn’t… It just wasn’t right, okay?”

A miasma of emotions roiled in her. Anger. Confusion. Relief.

“But…our parents…”

“I know!” Sam raged, pushing himself off the bed and starting to pace. “I’m a fucking loser, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m pathetic. I needed my best friend to get me a date with the easiest girl in school, and I still couldn’t deliver.”

Now, it was her turn to erupt. “Now isn’t the time for self-pity. We need to figure out what to do. Where did you leave things with Veronica? Can we salvage this?”

“It’s time for Plan B.” He looked at her with an expression that she couldn’t decipher. There was a silent, pregnant moment between them while they stared at each other.

Ash wanted to open her mouth and spew out everything. To vent about how fucking scared she was that they were going to lose the last of their parents. About how pissed she was at Scott and Mr. Pinkett. She wanted to confide in him how confused she’d been about him—about them. The words burbled up like a sneeze she couldn’t stop. The moment stretched and stretched. She could see that he felt it, too, that there was something left unspoken hovering in the air between them… Then the moment snapped, falling apart.

She was a coward.

Ash didn’t let herself dwell on her own shortcomings. Now wasn’t the time for self-loathing, what-ifs, or maybes. Not when her dad’s life was on the line.

“Where are you going?”

“Plan B,” she called, closing the bathroom door behind her.

In less than a minute, she was back in the bedroom. Sam looked up from the bed. “What was that about?”

“Twat shot,” she explained, opening up her text messages with Randy.

“WHAT?”

“It’s like a dick pic but with vaginas.”

Sam looked like he was going to be sick. “Ash, you—you can’t send that to Randy. W-what if he shares it with someone?”

“Relax, I’m not really showing much. Just enough to let his imagination run wild.”

“It’s still not a great idea.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Her voice was sharper than intended, but she couldn’t think about that now. “What matters is curing our parents and everyone else who’s hurt. Our discomfort or feelings don’t mean shit right now.”

Sam hung his head, and she almost apologized for the barb. She didn’t mean for it to come across as a jab at his failure to bang Veronica.

But she didn’t apologize. Because the truth was, regardless of her feelings for him—whatever the hell they were—she was pissed that he couldn’t set aside his bullshit long enough to stick his wand in Veronica’s Chamber of Secrets.

“I thought Randy was on vacation.”

Ash smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Once he sees that, he’ll be on the first flight home. I guarantee it.” Sam looked confused, so she clarified. “I’m telling him I’m ready to put out.”

His expression morphed, shifting from confusion to what looked like nausea. She could relate but didn’t let it deter her from what needed doing. It was already Tuesday, and they were running out of time.

It was time to end this.