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a long time. But still, my throat burned with the promise of tears. I hadn’t realized how much I still harbored that secret wish of meeting him, and now I never would.
    But if Jack was telling the truth, he had family.
    Stellan glared daggers at the white-haired teacher who was now chatting about the weather with the very tall and intimidating football coach, not ten feet away from us. I’d be safe for a couple of minutes. I sat down at an abandoned table littered with glitter and streamers and empty punch cups and played with a star-shaped piece of gold confetti. “Do they want to meet my mom, too?”
    â€œI was told to approach
you
specifically.” Jack pulled out the chair next to me. “Is it possible your mother wouldn’t want you to know about them?”
    Yes. It was more than possible.
    I’d never made a secret of wishing we had somebody, and she’d never made it a secret that she was bitter about my dad. It must have been easier for her to tell me he had no family than to say I couldn’t meet them. Anger bubbled up hot inside me. I half wanted to call her right now and yell at her. Moving for her job was one thing. Hiding a whole family was another.
    â€œYou said distant family?” I asked. Stellan was still watching us. I turned my back to him, facing Jack. “Like, how distant? Siblings? Cousins?”
    Jack held up his hands helplessly. “There are quite a few family members. I’m not sure which ones are related to you.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t they just call if they wanted to see me?” A new song started, louder, and I leaned in close to Jack.
    â€œThey weren’t sure of your identity, so I was sent to verify the information,” he said.
    And then it hit me. Jack Bishop was at Lakehaven High to spy on me. All this time—sitting next to me in class, talking about our families, that photo—had been
surveillance.
God, he’d probably asked me to prom because the person on the phone told him Stellan would be here tonight. After everything else he’d just told me, it shouldn’t matter, but all of a sudden, I couldn’t meet his eyes. I didn’t want him to see the well of humiliation spilling over in mine.
    I stood up abruptly and made my way around the table, running my fingertips over the backs of the chairs. “Then who is
he
?” I pointed to Stellan. “And who is this family that they’d do that rather than
calling
? Or e-mailing? Or writing a letter on fancy stationery?”
    â€œThey run your world, sweetheart.” Stellan strolled up, slipping his phone into a pocket inside his jacket. I saw that the teachers had left.
    Jack jumped to standing. “Stellan.” He cast his eyes toward the group of kids dancing nearest to us. “Not now.”
    â€œLike, they’re in the
government
?” I’d always pictured my dad as a regular guy who ran from the responsibility of being a father, but maybe his family was rich and powerful, and they’d sent my non–rich and powerful mom off with a little hush money so they wouldn’t have to deal with his illegitimate kid.
    â€œHey,” a giggling voice said. Three of the prom princesses pounced on Stellan, their sashes proudly displayed against their fake tans and sequined dresses. “Do you go to Brickfield?” Jessa Marin, in a pastel pink gown with wide cutouts at the midriff, batted her eyes and touched his arm.
    Jack put a hand on my back and steered me toward the door. I shook him off. “Where are they?” I repeated. “If I agree to meet them, where are we going?”
    He didn’t answer, and I turned to see him stopped dead, his face illuminated by the cool blue glare of his phone.
    â€œWhat?” I said.
    Stellan watched us over the heads of the three girls as Jack made a call. Over the music, I heard the very faint ding of voice mail picking up. Jack cursed quietly. “Call me back,” he