And Other Mistakes


 Contents
 
 Title Page
 Copyright Notice
 Dedication
 Epigraph
 Chapter 1
 Chapter 2
 Chapter 3
 Chapter 4
 Chapter 5
 Chapter 6
 Chapter 7
 Chapter 8
 Chapter 9
 Chapter 10
 Chapter 11
 Chapter 12
 Chapter 13
 Chapter 14
 Chapter 15
 Chapter 16
 Chapter 17
 Chapter 18
 Chapter 19
 Chapter 20
 Chapter 21
 Chapter 22
 Chapter 23
 Chapter 24
 Chapter 25
 Chapter 26
 Chapter 27
 Chapter 28
 Chapter 29
 Chapter 30
 Chapter 31
 Chapter 32
 Chapter 33
 Acknowledgments
 About the Author
 Newsletter Sign-up
 Copyright
 
 
 
 Guide
 
 Cover
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Contents
 Chapter 1
 Acknowledgments
 Copyright
 
 
 
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 Begin Reading
 Table of Contents
 About the Author
 Copyright Page
 
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 To my love, for always encouraging me to move forward.
 And, to AJR: We got through it, y’all.
 
 
 “If I don’t get out of this town,
 I just might be the one
 to finally burn it down.”
 —“Caution” by The Killers
 
 
 
 CHAPTER 1
 
 This Bug is dying, and hideous, and should’ve been sold for parts years ago. That’s why the damn thing is stalled for the hundredth time at a green light fifteen minutes from school—but I keep my mouth shut. One word (again), and Marissa will definitely make me walk to practice. Instead, I throw my feet on the dash and wait while she curses back at the six cars that honk and drive around us. I have no idea how manual cars work, but after some magic with the clutch and gear shifts, the engine roars to life and the whole Bug finally lurches forward.
 “Heeey!” she cheers, and I brace myself against the seat.
 “Marissa. You know the speed limit is forty, right?”
 “Do you want to be late, dude? No, I didn’t think so.” She sticks her tongue out at me, but her face, covered with thick black sunglasses, is toward the road, so her tongue flies to the side like a puppy’s. With the windows down, her fire-hydrant-red hair whips around the Bug, hitting me in the face. I should mind, but it only makes me smile.
 We’ve only been friends for, like, four months, but it feels like it’s been an eternity. Our chemistry teacher paired us up for a class project last semester, and when we exchanged numbers, I explained that my house was off-limits because my dad is a drunken rage-monster. Then she explained that her mom would either be “too hungover to bother us or sober enough to be fucking her boyfriend in Summerlin.”
 We’ve been inseparable ever since.
 Now it’s June, and our junior year has finally ended … which means today is the start of our new training season. I lean out the window, away from her wild mane, and she puts her hand on my leg. Even with the rush of the wind from the window and the ever-present hum of her engine, she can probably hear the loud thud of my heart. It’s been eight months since I ran cross-country. Eight months since I felt the sun sear into my skin and I raced with the wind. Now we’re on our way to the school’s field and I’m about to face my teammates for the first time since Coach stripped me of my title as captain last November.
 Yaaay.
 We pass the casino by our school in five minutes when it