Prologue

Meredith drew a deep breath.  They were probably the hardest words she'd ever have to say.  "Brandon...  We need to talk."  And that was saying something, considering that some point in the next half hour she'd probably have to tell him that she couldn't marry him.

Brandon looked at her, his face expressionless.  "Yeah," he said.  "I guess we do."

"I...  I think we learned a lot about each other, a few weeks ago," Meredith said, the words spilling out in slow motion.  "When I was in The Program."

"Yeah," he said.  "For instance, we both found out a lot about each other's family."  A flash of a smile, neither warm nor humorous.  "On the whole, I'd have to say I like yours better."

She did too, but that was beside the point.  "Brandon, for the past few weeks you've been...  Inaccessible, really.  I mean, we...  We talk, we hang out, we even have sex, but...  Sometimes I'm not sure you're really paying attention to any of it."

"Well, for that matter, you haven't been very present either."  The control of his tone wasn't enough to conceal the anger beneath them.  She heard that anger very often these days.  It was beginning to grow uncomfortable.  "I try to talk to you and you're out on the moon somewhere."

It was the truth.  "I know," she said, "I've just...  I'm sorry.  I've been so...  So busy, and..."  That wasn't the truth, unless by 'busy' one meant 'consumed with guilt over sending one's brother to jail,' but really, Brandon didn't need to know that.  He hadn't understood then and he didn't understand now.

For a moment she thought his anger might get the better of him; but it receded.  "It's okay," he said.  "I know you're busy.  It hasn't been an easy few weeks for us."

"No," she said.  She felt the fragility of the world under her.  "It hasn't."

There was silence for a moment.  He studied her face.  She drew breath and tried not to let fear take over her heart.

"So, what did you want to talk about," he said finally.

How could he not see it!  "Brandon, I...  You've been busy, I've been busy, we haven't...  We haven't talked in forever.  We talk even less than we have sex."

He gave a wry smile.  "Now that's saying something."  His attitude shifted: "Not like we have sex all that often anymore.  What, twice since your birthday?  You know," his tone turning reflective, "I actually jacked off the other day.  And I thought, What a weird relationship if I do that when I could get my rocks off the normal way."

"I know, I miss it too," she said to placate him.  "And we're always so distracted by everything...  I remember sitting here at lunch—on Thursday, remember, when Arie was talking about Rebekah DeMarne—thinking, This is when Brandon normally leans over and says something to me, and, you didn't, and, it was so bad."

"I'm sorry," he said, "I must've been thinking of something else.  I was writing an essay a week ago and it was something you would've liked, and I wished you were there—"

Suddenly she saw just how empty the conversation had gotten, how much they were simply shoving things out to appease each other.  Talking, but not saying anything.  "Brandon, I'm scared I'm going to lose you," she blurted.

He said nothing.

"It's June," she said.  "School's ending soon.  In three weeks I'm going away and I won't be back until August.  I want to make sure everything's okay by then."

"Oh, it'll...  It'll be fine," he said.

She stared at him.  "You seriously think that?"

He shrugged.  "Yes."  That wasn't the truth.  In point of fact, he just hadn't thought about it much.  So she was going away for most of the summer, to some music camp.  She'd done it every year.  What was it going to be like without her?  He had simply no idea at all, so what was the point of wondering?

And yet something niggled in the back of his head: that he already knew.  That losing her for the summer would be no different than now.  After all, did he really have her now?

"I don't," she murmured.  "I'm going away for three months and I want to be sure you'll still be here when I get back."

He was shocked to realize she was crying.  He knew it was his fault.  Guilt bubbled up in him: that wasn't what a boyfriend was supposed to do.

"Then...  Then let's talk," he said.  He reached out to her, but hesitated; his hand brushed her shoulder.  They had flown so far into space in the past few weeks that he couldn't even be sure she would like him to touch her.  And how lucky he was, that she'd given him the excuse he needed to change his mind.  A fresh wave of affection crested over him: How lucky was he, to be near such a clever girl?  "Let's talk, Meredith, and let's work this out.  I still wanna be here when you get back too."

"Okay," she said, wiping her eyes.  Her eyes were the penetrating gray that had never failed to make him melt.  "Okay.  Let's talk."

"Let's talk."  Impulsively he reached out and took her hands in his own; she let him, and she smiled.

"Brandon..." she said.

"Brandon I need your help like right about now," Sajel blurted.

They blinked at her.

"It's Jane," said Sajel, oblivious to the moment she had just interrupted.  "She's in the bathroom and she won't come out."

"Well, as long as she comes out within five minutes, she won't be breaking any rules," Brandon said.

"Brandon, she's sobbing, she's hysterical in there," Sajel said.

"Oh, Christ," Brandon said, "I'd better go help her, where is she?"  It was only after he'd taken three steps that he remembered the hands he'd dropped.

Meredith looked at him sadly.

"I'll...  I'll be back," he said.

Her eyes were huge.

"I promise," he said, his words sounding dim and false to his own ears.

"I know," she whispered.

Sajel looked back and forth at them, finally noticing that she might have interrupted something.

Meredith's eyes closed and her mouth moved in ways that Brandon, too far away, couldn't understand.  Sajel, who was closer, saw:  I love you.

"Where is she, Saje," Brandon asked.  "We'd better hurry."

Sajel led him away.  Meredith sighed.

It would be a long, confusing summer.

Sajel went in first to clear out the bathroom's occupants—which was wise; Brandon thought they might object to him coming in.  It was, after all, the girls' bathroom.  They were all aware of the hitching, unhappy sounds coming from the largest toilet stall, though, and when they saw him they understood that he was here to do something about it.  If he could.

"Congratulations, Brandon," Sajel said, struggling for humor.  "You are about to enter a place where few men have gone before."

"Yeah, but not all the way," Brandon grumbled, remembering how many times Arie and Derek had locked themselves in this exact restroom and not let anyone else in.

Inside was tile and toilets.  It didn't look all that different, except for the lack of urinals and the sanitary-napkin dispenser on the wall, and there was the sharp smell of piss in the air, which surprised him; he'd figured women would be tidier than that.  How exactly did one miss while sitting down?  He decided he had uncovered one of the world's unsolved mysteries.

There were wretched noises coming from the largest stall.  He prayed she hadn't locked the door.  He might have to crawl in otherwise.

The door swung open under his touch.

She was curled up in the corner, her face wet with tears, twisted with fear.  He understood the smell of urine immediately: she was in a puddle of it.  She must be getting cold.

For a moment he only stood there.  Jane Myers, in The Program.  It was the second time he had seen her naked in his life.  Somehow, in the weeks following Meredith's birthday party, Dr. Zelvetti had convinced her to sign up; and not five days later she'd called Jane's name.  Brandon had been pretty sure this was a bad idea—five days?  But he hadn't expected it to be this bad.  It was recess on Tuesday morning.  And Jane was a wreck.

"Jane?" he said.  "Jane?  It's me.  Brandon."

Her mouth opened, wobbled, formed silent words.  Somewhere in the torrent of movement he heard: "Brandon don't touch me."

What had happened to her?  He hadn't seen her at all, for the most part, since Monday morning, when she'd first come out into the world, bare as the day she was born.  He'd heard traces of whispers, of rumors, of something involving Rule Three, but surely that wasn't what had gotten to her.  ...Was it?

"Jane, you have to leave," he said.  "The bell's gonna ring soon.  You're...  You're gonna get in trouble."

Another rushing whisper:  "Brandon don't touch me."

What was going on here?  "Who's been touching you, Jane?"  He stepped closer.  "Who's been touching you?"

She shivered and was silent.

He'd never seen her incoherent like this.  ...Well, he'd never seen anyone incoherent like this.  He didn't know what to do.  But he needed to break her out of her fugue.

There was one way he knew would work.  Of course, it might backfire too.  And the rising panic in his mind made it hard to think.  This was Jane, and he wanted to help her.  He couldn't just leave her here.  But what should he do?  What the heck should he do?  He wasn't trained for things like this!

Oh, Lord, he thought, how did I get into this?  Who put me in this situation?

He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She yelped and twisted, but he kept his hand there, following her; and gradually she became used to it, as he had hoped she might.  It was like dealing with a cat, he thought dryly.

"Jane?" he said again, when he thought she was calmer.  "What's been going on?"

Her eyes, still lit with sparks of panic, focused on his for the first time.

"Everyone's been touching me," she said.

"Rule Three," he said.

"They wouldn't stop," she said.  "And...  Ugh."  She shuddered.

Brandon felt anger rise in him, and disgust.  What kind of person kept fondling a girl when she made it clear she didn't like it?

It never occurred to him to question that statement.

"And they wouldn't...  And they wouldn't..."  Her eyes flicked in all directions, and he could see that her lucidity had been only temporary.

"Come on," he said.  "We're getting you out of here.  Up you go.  Up.  Up!"

"Gaa!  Nodonwannago donwannago!"

"It's okay Jane it's okay it's okay.  It's okay.  Come on now.  You'll be safe.  We'll get you away from the bad men and you'll be safe."  As much as any of us are.

"No.  Donwannago."

"It'll be over soon.  Come on."

She wouldn't go.  He had to carry her.

Sajel watched them pass, and wondered what cataclysm she had just seen in the lives of her friends.  Meredith and Brandon had been on rocky terms for weeks now—what had she just interrupted?  But who else could help Jane?  Why hadn't she asked Meredith to come along?  And now where was Jane headed?  Everyone knew about the nervous breakdowns, but no one had expected to see one.

"I miss the days when life wasn't complicated," she said.

Brandon heard her.  Welcome to high school, he thought.

It was late August before Jane was out of the hospital.