Scarlet came home from school feeling totally on edge. She kept reliving in her head that fateful moment in the cafeteria, when Blake was about to ask her to the dance and Vivian interrupted them. She was so mad just thinking about it. It seemed obvious that Blake liked her; but for some reason, he just didn’t have the backbone to stand up to Vivian. It was like he was afraid to make her mad.She hated that about Blake. She was totally obsessed with them, but she hated the fact that he didn’t have the spine to stand up to her, to stand up for what he really wanted, despite what anybody else thought. Scarlet felt that she deserved a guy who wasn’t afraid to express his feelings for her, in front of anyone, no matter what the consequences, who wasn’t afraid to just walk up to her and ask her to the dance. Why was that so hard? Why did guys always have to deliberate, to hedge their bets? Why couldn’t they just pick one girl and not think twice? Why did they always seem to keep their opti

Caitlin sat in her office in the university library, elbow on her desk, head in her palm, poring over the book before her. She had spent all morning pulling rare books from the stacks, and now her desk was covered with them.But these were not the usual books she worked on. When she’d arrived this morning, the first thing she had done was clear her desk of all her work books—and made room for a whole new set of books. She had walked into work today determined, obsessed with finding out exactly what was happening to her daughter and figuring out how to help her.After her horrible argument with Scarlet the night before—the first argument she could ever remember the two of them having—Caitlin had a terrible night, tossing and turning with little sleep. She kept thinking of Father McMullen, of their meeting. She recalled the look her husband and daughter had given her when she’d asked Scarlet to come to church. Caitlin couldn’t help feeling that her own family now hated and distrusted h