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borrow mine?” Zoey looked at Claire incredulously. “Why do you care? It would take a lot more than that to mess up your A .”
    Claire looked uncomfortable. “Okay, look, you’re right. But Jake didn’t do his homework, either. And he’s shaky in that class.”
    â€œYou want me to give you my homework so you can give it to Jake?”
    â€œI know. It almost sounds kinky somehow, doesn’t it?”
    Zoey turned back toward the front of the class. She could just imagine why both Claire and Jake hadn’t gotten their work done. Not that it was any of her concern now. After all, she and Jake were finished, so what did she care if Claire and Jake spent the evening groping?
    Or whatever it was they were doing.
    The possibility made her frown. She doubted Claire was doing it with Jake, but again, that wasn’t her business. She glanced back over her shoulder. “So I should give you my homework because you and Jake were too busy doing . . . whatever ?”
    â€œWe weren’t doing whatever ,” Claire said. “The truth is, I was watching him get faced on beer at the end of the breakwater and trying to figure out if I was strong enough to drag him backout of the water if he fell in.”
    Zoey raised a skeptical eye. “Jake doesn’t drink.”
    â€œThings change,” Claire said. “I think he’s really pretty messed up over all that’s happened. It was probably just a onetime deal. He’ll get over it. You know Jake.”
    â€œI do know Jake, which is why I’m having such a hard time picturing this scene.”
    â€œOkay,” Claire said. “If you don’t believe that, then we were making passionate love till dawn. It was magic. He made a woman of me.”
    Zoey grumbled under her breath and dug in her three-ring binder for the homework. She pulled it out and handed it over her shoulder. “Just have it back to me before class.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    â€œYou weren’t, were you?” Zoey asked.
    â€œWe weren’t?” Claire echoed coyly.
    â€œYou weren’t,” Zoey reassured herself.
    â€œ. . . and nominations for homecoming king and queen must be made by the end of this school day. Once again, please do not submit the names of fictional individuals, musical performers, animals, cartoon characters, or the deceased.”

FOUR
    HALFWAY UP THE BLEACHERS, CLAIRE set the can of diet Coke on the plank in front of her and dropped her books beside her. Discreetly she began wiggling out of her pantyhose. If the weather was going to insist on being boringly sunny, she might as well get a little late-season tan.
    She balled up her pantyhose and stuck them in her purse. Then she leaned back, stretched out her legs, hiked the hem of her skirt a few inches, and kicked off her shoes.
    On the grass-and-mud field, the football team was going through a set of stretching exercises. They were dressed in bulky uniforms, with their helmets on the ground beside them. Jake seemed to be moving with the elaborate care of a person with a bad hangover.
    He might not have noticed yet that she was there, Claire knew, but he would sooner or later.
    He’d said little when she’d caught him in the hallway between classes and handed him a hastily transcribed version ofZoey’s notes. But he must have read them because later, in class, he’d correctly answered the teacher’s question. And he hadn’t seemed overly panicked by the snap quiz that had followed.
    Claire saw him lie back on the grass and rub his eyes with the heels of his hands. Claire had been seriously drunk exactly once in her life—on the night she drove into a tree. Since then, alcohol had held no attraction for her. And as far as she knew, Jake had never been into booze, either. His sudden interest had come immediately after the dredging up of all the events surrounding his brother’s death.
    â€œHey, Claire.”
    It was