“Archer?”
Silence greets me.
I don’t panic yet. Not until I slide off the bed, step into my dress, and walk toward the cockpit.
“Archer?” I call again, louder this time.
There’s no reply.
Surely, he wouldn’t just leave.
Not after last night.
But there’s no sign of him anywhere. Not a note, not an article of clothing. No trace of him at all, except for the slight ache between my legs and the small bloodstain on the v-berth’s white sheets.
My first reaction is worry that something terrible happened to him. I reach for my iPhone to call… before I remember I don’t have one. In the chaos of finals week, prom, and graduation, I haven’t gotten around to buying a replacement, yet.
Shit.
Graduation.
That’s today.
I yelp as my sluggish brain registers the position of the sun. It’s already high in the sky. I need to be at Exeter by noon, dressed in my cap and gown, prepared to give a speech in front of three hundred people.
I jolt into motion, stripping the sheets off the bed with a yank, balling them into my arms, and carrying them off the Hinckley. I feel like a criminal disposing of evidence as I shove them into the trash can, pushing them all the way down to the bottom.
Barefoot, I leave the boathouse behind and race up the path to the house. It takes all my self-control not to turn off onto the side route that leads to Gull Cottage.
Maybe he went home to get ready…
But why not wake me first?
It makes no sense at all. The way he made love to me last night… it was a revelation. It swept me away on a tide I didn’t even know existed, carried me to places I’d only dreamed about. There’s no way he didn’t feel it, too.
He might’ve made love to you, an annoying voice whispers from the darkest corner of my mind.But he never actually told you he loved you.
Did he?
I push the voice aside, trying to hold onto the parts of last night that aren’t in question. The look on his face when he pulled up in the Hinckley. The break in his voice when he called my name. The passion in his hands when he pulled me into his arms. The reverence in his eyes when he pushed inside me for the first time, so gently it made me cry.
Archer Reyes loves me, I assure myself.I’m certain of it.
And yet… as I step into Cormorant House’s ever-constricting emptiness… as I shower away all traces of the boy who took my virginity… as I stare at my own reflection in the mirror while swiping on mascara…. as I pull on my cap and gown and collect my speech cards from my desk…
I don’t feel certain of anything at all.
* * *
I makeit to Exeter with minutes to spare, the Porsche screeching to a stop in the first free spot I find. My hair is still slightly damp as I pull on my dark green graduation cap. The tassel tickles my cheek with each step.
I hustle toward the courtyard. Hundreds of white chairs are lined up along the grass, facing a narrow stage. A podium awaits at the center, with a green and black Exeter pennant hanging from the front.
Avoiding the dense crowd of parents and faculty, I wind around the perimeter of the courtyard toward the side hall, where my fellow graduates are gathered in an animated cluster — boys in black, girls in green. I scan every face, looking for one in particular.
He’s not here.
Someone grabs my arm. Hope springs to life in my chest. I whirl around, expecting Archer, but it’s only Headmaster Lawrence.