Chapter 4

Weeks later, the SAT scores were released. Mine were good, good enough for Berkeley's engineering program, even without the full scholarship.

Kevin's, as expected, were a disaster. The Ivy League dream was dead.

A few days after the scores came out, my phone buzzed with a text.

Kevin: "Hey. Heard you got into Berkeley. Congrats."

I didn't reply.

Another text came through a minute later.

Kevin: "Look, I messed up. Big time. I was an idiot about the SATs, about Tiff. Everything."

Still, I didn't reply.

Then: "I'm thinking of taking a gap year. Maybe work on a yacht, clear my head. We've been through a lot, Sarah. Good times, bad times. Want to meet up? My family's old lake house. One last time, for old times' sake?"

The lake house. The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

In my past life, that' s where he' d lured me. That' s where he' d faked the assault.

This was it. The trap.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. This time, I knew what was coming. And this time, I' d be ready.

I typed back: "Okay, Kevin. The lake house. When?"

He replied almost instantly: "Tomorrow afternoon? Around 3?"

"See you then," I sent.

When I told my mom, Linda, she looked hopeful. "Oh, honey, that's good. Maybe you two can finally put things behind you. Find some closure."

She didn't know. She couldn't know the darkness I was walking into.

"Maybe," I said, forcing a smile.

The next day, I drove to the lake house. It was deserted, just like before. The air was still, the water dark and quiet.

Kevin was waiting on the porch. He looked surprisingly put-together, clean-shaven, wearing a nice shirt. Not the disheveled mess he' d been at the SATs.

"Hey, Sarah," he said, his voice smooth. "Glad you came."

"Kevin," I nodded.

"Let's go inside," he said, opening the door.

The living room was dusty, draped in old sheets.

"So, no distractions, okay?" he said, his eyes flicking to my phone in my hand. "Just us talking. Can I...?" He gestured for my phone.

I casually tossed a cheap burner phone onto a nearby table. An old one I' d kept in a drawer. "Sure."

He looked pleased. He probably thought he was so clever.

He went to the small, ancient refrigerator in the corner and pulled out two cans of soda.

"To new beginnings?" he said, offering me one.

I took it. "New beginnings."

I popped the tab, took a small sip. Then, as I brought it down, I deliberately let some of it spill onto the sleeve of my jacket.

"Oops," I said, dabbing at it.

He smiled, a tight, unpleasant smile. "No worries."

We talked for a few minutes. Small talk. School, the future. It was all a lie.

Soon, a familiar wooziness started to creep in. The edges of my vision blurred slightly. Just like before.

Kevin watched me, his eyes gleaming.

He stood up, started unbuttoning his shirt. A predatory glint in his eyes.

"I told you I wouldn't let you get away with ruining me, Sarah!" he hissed, his voice dropping the pretense of friendliness. "You cost me everything!"

Here we go, I thought, my heart pounding, but a cold resolve settling in.