And that’s when my ears popped, and suddenly the world had sound again.

“…that time it started pouring, two blocks from your house?” Sabine asked, and Nash laughed. They lay side by side on his bed, on their stomachs, propped up on their elbows with their sock feet resting on his pillows. A photo album lay open in front of them at the foot of the bed, and Nash turned a clear plastic page as he answered.

“Too bad you don’t have pictures of that! We were so soaked my shoes squished for a day.”

“Remember how we got warm?” Sabine asked, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. Nash turned to look at her, and their mouths were inches apart.

I held my breath, and Tod’s hand tightened around mine again, another silent warning. But as my teeth ground together, I knew that if he kissed her, I wouldn’t be able to quiet my anger and betrayal. Not that it would matter, if that happened. Me and Tod suddenly appearing in Nash’s bedroom while he made out with his ex would be the least of Nash’s problems.

But he didn’t kiss her. Nash only grinned, then stared down at the photo album, the slight ruddiness in his cheeks the only sign that the memory still affected him.

I should have been happy. I should have been giddy with relief to see him actually pass up an opportunity most guys would have pounced on. But instead of relief, I swallowed a bitter, acrid taste on the back of my tongue. The memory—whatever they’d done that day, when they were soaked, cold, and in love—still affected him. Because he hadn’t sold it to Avari for another dose of poisoned air. He’d kept the emotional impact of his memories of Sabine intact, and gutted his memories of me instead.

“Like I could forget,” Nash said, oblivious to both my presence and my pain. He flipped another page and she watched him, rather than the pictures.

“Would you, if you could? Forget?” she added, when he looked confused. “Would you forget about me?”

His eyes widened, and I could see the slow churning in them, even from across the room. “No. I wouldn’t forget you, or a single moment we spent together, Sabine. You were my first everything, and that still means something, even now that everything’s changed. It always will.”

Her smile looked painful, like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Did you try to find me, Nash?” she asked at last, after he’d flipped several more pages in silence, and I realized with surprise bordering on amazement that she sounded…bruised. Lost. “Did you even look for me, after you left?”

Nash closed the album and sat up, while she rolled onto her back, staring up at him. “Yeah. I tried to call you at Holser House, to tell you we were moving, but they wouldn’t let me through. They wouldn’t even take a message.”

She nodded, and her hair fell to hangdown the side of his bed. “You weren’t on my approved calls list, and I lost all my privileges when they found the cell you gave me.”

“I tried calling the Harpers after that, but they didn’t know anything about your new foster home. The school said you’d transferred, but wouldn’t tell me where. And the internet didn’t seem to know you even existed.”

“Yeah, it took me a while to find you, too.” She closed her eyes and let her head roll to one side. “I was stupid to think you’d wait for me.”

“Bina…” Nash looked like she’d just ripped out his heart and shown it to him, still beating, and as badly as I wanted to hate her, I found anger harder to cling to in that moment than ever before. She really was his first everything—including his first broken heart.

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened?” she asked, rolling onto her side to face him again. “If you’d never left? If I hadn’t gotten arrested again?”

“I…” Nash exhaled heavily, and I hated the confliction I read in the slow twist of green in his irises. “Yeah, I do. But what-ifs are pointless, Bina. It can’t be like it was then. Not anymore.”

“It could be.” She reached up to brush a chunk of thick brown hair from his forehead, and I bit my lip to keep from protesting. I didn’t want her to touch him. Ever.

“No.” He took her wrist before she could touch his hair again. “It’s different now.”

“Because of her,” Sabine said, staring straight into his eyes. Nash nodded and let go of her. “She thinks I killed those teachers.”

“I know.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I know you better than that. But you haven’t exactly given her a reason to trust you.”

Sabine frowned and sat up facing him. “I’ve never lied to her. And I don’t care if she trusts me.”

Nash set the album on his pillow. “Yes, you do. I’m not going to be enough, Sabine. You need more than one friend.”

She shook her head, and dark hair fell over her cheek. “You’re all I need.”

I’d never seen her look so vulnerable. In fact, I’d never seen her look anything short of antagonistic, but she was obviously a completely different person with Nash. I didn’t know whether to be relieved that she had a more human side, or pissed off that that side only emerged when she was alone with my boyfriend.

“No,” he said. “I was all you had back then. You never had a real shot at any other relationship because you couldn’t control yourself. But you can now.”

“Shut up. You’re making me sound needy just to piss me off.”