I studied my feet resting next to his on the coffee table. “The usual. Nothing exciting.” Guilt flared red hot in my chest.
I’d only ever lied to him once before, and even that was more of an omission of a detail than a full-blown lie. The desire to tell him about Jason was stronger than I’d been expecting. Mark was my person, the one I could tell anything to, the only one who’d always been there for me. Lying to him sucked.
Then I remembered why I wasn’t telling him the truth. No one had ever been officially released from WITSEC before. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. But I was special. A “one-of-a-kind situation,” Mark had said when we started planning Sloane and Mark Sullivan. But if the Marshals knew I’d been seen by someone from my past? Who knows how long it would be before they thought it was safe enough again to let me out.
Mark bumped my shoulder, trying to get my attention. “Any stalkers?”
My heart fluttered as I smiled. It sounded like a joke, but he was serious. I hadn’t been smart about someone once before, and I’d promised to never make that mistake again. “No. I did get forced into a group of overly friendly people though.”
He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud of my little girl, making friends on her first day.”
I whacked him on the arm. “I’m actually about to head over to one of their houses in a few minutes.”
His smile faltered. “Going to someone’s house already? Is that a good idea?”
“They gave me a First Day Buddy.”
“Oh.” It came out like a laugh, like he knew how much it would annoy me.
“Exactly. There’s this senior scavenger hunt thing tomorrow, and I’m on her team and I have to help with something for it. But don’t worry, I won’t stay long. Wouldn’t want to come home late and disturb your beauty sleep, not with the new job starting tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes. The rigorous demands of a college maintenance man require much rest.”
“Don’t make fun of your fake profession. It’s served us well.”
“That’s true,” he agreed, stretching his arms above his head. “Who knew there were so many colleges and universities across this great land of ours? Plus, I never feel guilty when we skip out without giving notice.” He stood, scattering a few pieces of junk mail to the floor.
I crumpled an ad into a ball and threw it into the middle of the small trash can across the room. “Ha!”
Mark chuckled. “Are you going to be back for dinner? I’m making fettuccine alfredo.”
I followed him into the kitchen, groaning with pleasure the whole way. “I would never miss your fettuccine. It’s one of your best dishes.”
“Well, at least not having any friends has paid off. I don’t have to answer their nosey questions, and I’ve had all this free time to master my cooking skills.”
I frowned. I knew he’d given up everything for me. I wondered, not for the first time, whether he regretted it. “We have each other for a friend. Who needs anyone else?”
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he studied me. Something I didn’t recognize flashed in his eyes.
I pursed my lips. “You know I appreciate everything you do for me, right? Including making fabulous food.”
Mark dropped his eyes. “I know.” He was quiet for a moment. “I like doing things for you.” He patted his ridiculously toned stomach. “I certainly don’t need the extra calories.”
“Please,” I scoffed. “Like you have an inch of fat on you.”
“I do!” He looked up, eyes bright. “We’ve been slacking on lesson number eleven lately.”
I placed my hands flat against the small kitchen island and glared at him. “We have not been slacking on our long distance running! And I’ve played many a basketball game with you shirtless recently, and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
He flashed a grin, the one where the right side of his mouth rose more than the left. It was the grin he used when he was giving me a hard time, and guilt spread through my chest again.
I intertwined my fingers and examined the lines across one of my palms, tracing them with my thumb. “So apparently there’s a senior trip coming up.”
Mark had his head buried in the refrigerator. “Like a beach trip after graduation? Do seniors still do that?”
“No, like a chaperoned overnight field trip to Charleston the last weekend in April. It sounds like all the seniors go. It’s a school tradition.”
The sounds of his rummaging stopped. “I don’t know.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “What if something goes wrong? What about your eyes?”
“I can keep my contacts in. It’s just one night.” I continued to study my palm, afraid of looking at him when I said what I’d been rehearsing all afternoon in my head. “Plus, I was kind of thinking this placement could be like a test. Once I’m out, I’m going to have to deal with things myself. It might be good to get some practice making my own decisions while you’re still around to back me up. And I think I want to go.”
The silence made my heart race until I finally glanced up, unable to take it any longer. Mark was leaning against the speckled laminate countertop, nodding his head slowly. “You’re right.” His eyes locked on mine. “You’re prepared, but you need to be confident you can handle yourself. And I want you to make your own decisions. So if you want to go, go.”
I was surprised at how much lighter I felt. He may not have known about Jason or that I’d already begun making my own decisions, but it felt like he was telling me I’d done the right thing. And I trusted his judgment without question.
* * *
I walked up the path to the small blue house with a bounce in my step. I felt empowered by Mark’s approval to go on the trip, and the sight of Jason’s house, with flowerpots scattered across the front porch and lace curtains in the windows, reminded me of New Jersey. I rang the doorbell.
Sawyer answered the door with his usual lazy grin. He stepped aside and swept an arm toward the inside of Jason’s house. “Sloane Sullivan, come on down. You’re the next contestant in the Sawyer James game of love.”
Jason stood behind Sawyer. He flashed me a half smile and mouthed, One.
The excited buzz of being in on a secret Jason bet shot through me as I stepped inside. Jason’s half smile wasn’t the only familiar thing I saw. Walking through his house was like taking a trip back in time. The overstuffed yellow chair in the living room was the same one we used to build forts around. The large round wooden table in the kitchen was the same one I’d eaten at a thousand times. And the brown couch I saw as I followed the guys into the rec room in the basement still had the tear on the edge of the right cushion I’d made with a pair of scissors during a bet to see who could make the most paper snowflakes in five minutes.
I peeked around the rec room. Besides the comfy brown couch, there was a coffee table, a couple of beanbag chairs facing a flat-screen TV, a bar with a mini refrigerator in one corner of the room and a Ping-Pong table that dominated the back half. A DVD collection spilled out of the entertainment center onto the floor and two different video game consoles competed for space on the entertainment center’s shelves. I could see why they hung out here.
“Hey, Sloane!” Livie called from a fuzzy beanbag chair.
“Hey,” I replied as I noticed the movie on TV. I raised an eyebrow at Jason. “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”
“Sawyer brought it over. He’s got a thing for ’80s movies. We put