KeepingtheDistance

ClarisseDavid

KeepingtheDistance
Copyright©2017ClarisseDavid
Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedortransmittedinanyformwithoutwritten
permissionfromthepublisher,exceptbyareviewerwhomayquotebriefpassagesforreviewpurposes.

This is a work of fiction. Settings, names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and
incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events
andcharacters,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.

Formoreinformation,visit

http://www.clarissedavid.com

CoverPhotography:DarlynHerradura
CoverModels:CarlMelvinVillarojoandMajandraCatedrilla
CoverDesign:

DanielTinagan

ChapterOne

The moles on the back of Melissa Ortiz’s neck resembled the Big Dipper, a cluster of seven stars that
sometimesgracedthenightsky.

LanceOrdoneznoticedthiswonderfulaccidentofnatureduringMr.Rodriguez’ssoul-deadening

introduction to the wonders of gravity. Or was it inertia? He was on the verge of losing consciousness
whenhisgazewandereddownfromthelonghairpiledontopofherheadtothemolesthatdottedhertan
skin.

Itwasstrangethathenevernoticedthemuntilnow.
His and Melissa’s last names were right next to each other when arranged alphabetically, so

they’dsatnexttoorbehindoneanothersinceGradeOne,foreverorbitingbutnevercolliding.

Hewatchedheruncapherpen,hergazedartingfromtheblackboardandbacktothenotebookthat

layopeninfrontofher.Mintgreennailpolishtintedhernails.Tendrilsofhairescapedfromherloose
bunandmadetheirwaytothetipsofherears.

Whenshebentdowntoretrieveathicktextbookfromherbackpack,hetookthechancetostudy

herprofile,herheadframedbychalkequationswrittenontheblackboard.Hestudiedtheeyebrowsthat
archedgracefullyoverdarkeyes,themouthwiththefulllowerlipthathadneversmiledinhisdirection.

Withajolt,LancerealizedMelissawaspretty.No,notthetypethatwouldmakehimstopinthe

middle of his morning runs on Iloilo River Esplanade, his gray running shoes scraping against the
pavementasheskidtoahalt.HerealizedMelissawasprettythesamewayhesometimescaughthimself
singingalongtoasonghedidn’tevenlikeontheradio.

Theknowledgesneakeduponhim.
LancewasinastatehelikedtocallInBetweenGirlfriends.HislastrelationshipwithSamantha

Ferrer imploded two weeks ago when she asked him to be her date to her cousin’s beach wedding in
Cebu.

Insteadoftellingherhedidn’twanttogetserious,hesimplydecidedtostopansweringhercalls.
Andtexts.
Andmessagesonallhissocialmediaaccounts.
He had no regrets. It was a good thing he took the easy way out with Samantha, because she

definitelywentoverboardwiththepost-breakupmessaging.

Melissa,ontheotherhand,didn’tseemlikethetypewhowoulddothat.Hedidn’tknowwhatshe

waslike,buthewasgoingtofindout.Herbeingtheprincipal’sdaughteronlyuppedthestakes.

Hiseyeswanderedfromherwhiteblousetothemaroonskirtthatendedjustbelowherknees.The

school’sstandarduniformforgirls.Shelookedgreatinit,hedecided.

Hismindmadeup,heslidhisforearmsupthewoodendeskuntilhismouthwasalmosttouching

herear.Shesmelledlikelavender.Thescentclungtothebackofhershirt.

“HowaboutyouandmeonSaturdaynight?”hesaid,hisvoicelow.
Accordingtopopularopinion,ifaGreekgodhadalovechildwithSuperman,itwouldlookjust

likehim.Heevenmadethewhitebutton-downandnavyblueslackshewasforcedtoweareverydayto
Saint Agnes Catholic Academy seem cool. The sheer beauty of his face alone made any attempts at
resistancefutile.

Plus, he was co-captain of the basketball team. If this sad excuse for a school had a social

pyramid,hewouldbeontopofit.

Therewasnodoubtinhismindthatshewasgoingtosayyes.
He waited for the flattered flush to spread all over her neck, but it stayed the same tan color.

Instead,Melissa’sbackstiffenedbysuchatinyfractionthathewould’vemisseditifhewasn’tsoclose
toher.Herpenstoppedinthemiddleofcopyingdownanequation.

“Excuseme?”Shecranedherneckbythetiniestbit.
The movement drew his eyes to the curve of her neck. It was graceful and smooth, and he

wonderedhowitwouldfeelunderhisfingertips.

Heclearedhisthroat.“Isaid,doyouwanttogooutwithmethisweekend?”
Thistime,sheswiveledaroundtofacehim,eyesfullofquestionsbutsomehowstillunreadable.

Shetiltedherheadasifseeinghimforthefirsttime.“ThelasttimeyouspoketomewasbackinGrade
Nine.Youaskedtoborrowmycalculator.”

“Sorryittookmesolongtocometomysenses.”Heunleashedthefullpowerofhisgrinonher.

Bright,eventeethondisplay.

ThatgrinworkedlikeacharmonthefemaleservicecrewatMcDonald’swhoalwaysgavehim

an extra helping of fries, on the cashier at the theater who offered him discounts, and on the rest of the
femalepopulationingeneral.

ItdidnotworkonMelissa.
“Ionlyrememberbecauseyouleftmycalculatorinthecafeteria,”shesaid,thepowersofhisgrin

flyingpastherhead.“Oneofthejanitorsfounditandgaveitback.”

Withoutanotherword,herpenstartedflyingacrossthepageagain.Theinkwasn’tblacklikethey

wererequiredtouseforalltheirnotes.Itwasgold.

Hecontinuedtostareather,grinfrozeninplace.Whatthehelljusthappened?
Thiswasanentirelynew,nottomentionunwelcome,experience.
Insteadofslouchingbackonhisseatandpretendingnothinghadhappened,heslidhisforearms

evenfurtheronhisdesk.HetappedMelissaontheshoulder.Shedidn’tturnaround,butherhandstilled
itsmovementacrossthepage.

“Youknow,Icanshowyouareallygoodtime.”
A flush crept up Melissa’s neck and soon spread all over her ears and cheeks. Before he could

enjoythatflush,ashadowfelloverthetwoofthem.HelookedupandalmostmeltedundertheheatofMr.
Rodriguez’sglare.

“Getoutofmyclassroom,Mr.Ordonez,”Mr.Rodriguezsaid,theveinabovehisbushyeyebrows

turningbrightpurple.

Lance didn’t even flinch. One corner of his mouth tilted up, and he gifted Mr. Rodriguez with a

mockingsalute,causingtheteacher’sfacetoturnanevendeepershadeofred.Gettingkickedoutofclass
duringthefirstweekofthenewschoolyearwasnothingnewtohim.

Whathewasn’texpectingwas,forMr.RodrigueztotransferhisdeathrayeyestoMelissa.“You,

too, Miss Ortiz. If the two of you want to discuss your personal lives, I suggest you do it outside my
classroom.”

Lance stopped in the middle of stuffing his never-been-used notebook into his Adidas backpack

and waited for her reaction. The look of horror on her face was like a right hook in the gut. Swift and
merciless. A flash of guilt made his nerves seize up, but amusement pushed it aside when he saw her
attempttosputteroutanexplanation.

Shehadsomuchtolearnaboutdealingwithpower-trippingPhysicsteachers.
Hecouldn’tthinkofamoreperfectteacher.

***
Melissahadneverbeeninterestedinmeditationoryoga,becauseshelikedtothinkshewasthe

typeofpersonwhodidn’tneedtobe.

Someothergirlgrabbedthelastpairofthegoldflatsshe’dbeeneyeingformonths?Shedidn’t

evenblink.

ThewaiterspilledCokealloverhernotes?Finewithher.
Astheprincipal’sdaughter,Melissalearnedlongagotoreigninhertemper.
ButtherewassomethingaboutLancethatlitupasparkofrageinsideher.
As she glanced at his angel face, her eyes flicking to the L-shaped scar on his eyebrow that

stoppedhimfrombeingtoopretty,memoriesfromGradeNinefloodedhermind.

Once upon a time, she had not been immune to his charms. Her heart had been ready to start a

cheerleadingsquadwhenTheLanceOrdonezwentuptoherandaskedtoborrowhercalculator.He’dleft
his at home. She’d barely been able to utter three words when she handed hers over to him, their
fingertipsslidingovereachother’s.

Imagine her surprise when her father, the principal, delivered a lengthy lecture about how she

couldn’tleaveherstufflyingaround.Theyweren’trich,afterall.Imaginehowherheartplummetedtothe
depths of her stomach when he pulled her calculator out of his pocket. One of the janitors found it
abandonedonacafeteriatableamongstchocolatewrappersandemptysodabottles.

Inanutshell,LancemadeMelissavery,veryangryonagoodday.
Todaywasnotagoodday.
Slingingthestrapofherlightpinkbackpackoverhershoulder,sheslowlywalkedoutoftheroom.

TherewasapartofherthatstillhopedMr.Rodriguezwouldchangehismind,butnodice.Heresumed
hislecture,pretendingshewasn’teventhere.

Her classmates huddled in their seats without saying anything. Camille Velasco, her best friend,

wastheonlypersonwhodaredtomeethereye,pushingthestrandsofherchin-lengthhairbehindoneear.

ThelookonCam’selfinfacesaiditall.Yourfather’sgoingtofindout.
Iknow.
Shewasanangrycrier,butshetoldherselfnottocrynow.Herfatherwassurelygoingtofindout

shegotkickedoutofclassbeforethenextperiodevenstarted.Therewasnopoint.

That,however,didn’tmakethetearsanyeasiertoholdback.
Hertakingthelaststepoutoftheclassroomwassynonymouswithagongsoundingtoannounce

herdeathsentence.Therowofgraylockersliningtheemptyhallwaystaredbackathermockingly.

“Hey,Melissa!”
She’dforgottenaboutLance.
Almost.
Hisfootstepsechoedacrossthegreen-tiledfloors.Shedidn’tturnaround,butherfeetstoppedin

themiddleofthehallwayseeminglyoftheirownaccord.“Yes,Lance?”

“Ifyouagreedtogooutwithme,wewouldn’thavegottenkickedoutofclass.”
Like a piece of string tugged too hard, Melissa’s patience splintered apart. She whirled around,

readytoblasthimtopieceswithherfury.Allshemanagedwasasurprisedsqueakwhenshefoundher
nose almost buried against his chest. He was standing a little too close and staring down at her, eyes
dancingwithwhatcouldonlybemischief.

Hesureknewhowtowieldhisprettyfacelikeaweapon.
“Whatdoyoumean?”shesaid,hatingthathervoicesoundedshaky.
“Logicallyspeaking,ourconversationwould’vebeenoverifyousaidyesafterIaskedyouout.”

Lance stuffed his hands into his pockets. “If our conversation was over, Mr. Rodriguez wouldn’t have
heardanything.”

Atthatmoment,Melissawishedshewasthetypeofpersonwhowasgreatatbanter,whocould

thinkofputdownsinasnap,butnothingcameoutwhensheopenedhermouthtospeak.Notadamnthing.

Therightwordsnevercameattherighttime.Intheend,allshehadtosaywasthetruth.“Idon’t

havetimeforthis,Lance.”

“You underestimate my charm.” He winked at her slowly, like he had all the time in the world.

“BythetimeI’mdone,MelissaOrtiz,you’llbebeggingmetoaskyouout.”

ChapterTwo

Melissa couldn’t rip her eyes away from the digital clock on her laptop screen. Her wallpaper was an
illustrationofaJapanesegardeninbrightshadesofgreenandpink.Itwassupposedtobecheerful,butit
didn’tmakecountingdownthesecondsuntilherfathercamehomeanylessstressful.

Shewasinbigtrouble.Theonlyquestionwas,byhowmuch.
Camsatonherbed,paintinghertoenailsgunmetalgray.Shehadrummagedthroughthetransparent

plasticboxthathousedMelissa’snailpolishcollectionearlier,grumblingthewholetimethateverysingle
shadecouldbeusedtodecorateapreschool.Melissachosetotakeitasacompliment.

Theymight’vebeencompleteoppositesonthesurface,especiallywithCam’spenchantfordark

clothingandherloveofpastel,buttheyhadbeenbestfriendsforever.Nothingwasgoingtochangethat.

“Yourlaptop’sgoingtomeltifyoudon’tstoplookingatit,”Camsaid,herhandstillmovingin

smooth,evenstrokes.

FeelingCam’sstareboringintothebackofherneck,Melissaleftherperchinfrontofherdesk

andgrabbedtheukuleleleaningagainstthefootofthebed.Toshutherbestfriendupandtostopherself
fromhavingafull-blownpanicattack,shestartedstrummingafewchords.Thefewchordssoonturned
intoasong,thestrainsof“SomewhereOvertheRainbow”fillingthepinkandwhiteroom.

Melissacouldn’tevenbegintodescribehowmuchshelovedplayinghertinyukulele,lovedall

thewaysitdifferedfromaguitar.Itwasmind-blowinghowshecouldplaythousandsofsongswithfour
strings,onlyneedingtochangetheirpatternsandthestrummingofherhand.Shewishedmostthingswere
aseasy.

Bythetimeshefinished,Camstartedclapping,alreadydonepaintinghertoenails.“Youseriously

needtostartrecordingyourself.Likerightnow.”

Shesighed.“We’vehadthisconversationbefore.”
“AndIkeephopingyou’llchangeyourmind.Ievenhavealltheequipment.”Camgesturedatthe

camerabagshe’dplacedonthefloorbyhershoes.

PhotographywasCam’spassioninlife,theonethingshetrulycaredabout.Melissawishedshe

hadsomethinglikethat,too.Shecouldn’tmakeacareeroutofplayingtheukuleleintheconfinesofher
bedroom, so she’d decided to major in Education once college rolled around to follow in her father’s
footsteps.

“Wecanstartanytime,”Camproddedagain.
HerbestfriendwasconvincedthatshewouldbecomethenextYoutubesensationthesecondshe

starteduploadingvideosofherselfsingingandplayingtheukulele.

Melissawasn’tinsecureenoughtoblindlywonderifshewastalented.Sheknewshewasgood,

butwasshegoodenoughtowillinglysubjectherselftothecriticismofthousandsofstrangers?

So,shewassayingnotomakingvideos.
Fornow.
“I’llkeepthinkingaboutit.”Melissareturnedherukuleletoitsrightfulplace.
Cam opened her mouth to ask another question, but a knock sounded on her door. The sound

reverberatedacrosstheroomlikeagunshot.

Beforeshecouldgetup,thedooropened,framingherfatherinthedoorway.Hewasintimidating

in a navy blue button-down shirt and khaki pants, hair brushed over his forehead. Exactly the kind of

personwhocouldscareteenageboysintoarrivingtoclassontime.

“Goodafternoon,Mr.Ortiz.”Camjumpedupfromthebed.
“Goodafternoon,Cam.”Heremainedinthedoorway,onehandonthedoorknob.“MayIspeakto

mydaughterforawhile?”

Cam’seyesdartedtoMelissaassheshovedonhersocksandshoes.Sheputonherbestparent-

friendlysmile.“Noproblem.Iwasonmywayout.”

“Seeyoutomorrow,Cam,”shesaidhalf-heartedly,wishingherbestfriendcouldrescueherfrom

anotherlectureabouthowshewasn’tfulfillingherpotential.

“Seeyou,Mel.”
Her father closed the door behind Cam. He took a seat on the chair by her desk and ran a hand

throughhishair.Shesatupstraight,stayinginplace.Dreadsettledinthepitofherstomach,likemercury
poolingatthebottomofathermometer.

“Iheardyougotkickedoutofclasstoday.”Heletoutalong-sufferingsigh.
It was the sigh that did it every time, filling her with so much guilt she could barely breathe.

Things would’ve been so much simpler if he yelled at her, but that sigh? It was open to so much
interpretation,ablankcanvasshecouldcolorwiththedisappointmentsheimaginedhefelt.

“Pa,”sheexplained,“itwasn’tmyfault.Lance—”
“Mel,we’vebeenoverthiscountlesstimes,”heinterrupted.“Whatevertroubleyourclassmates

getuptoshouldn’tbeyourconcern.You’rehelduptoentirelydifferentstandards.”

WhatifIdon’twanttobe?
Shedidn’tdarevoicethequestionoutloud.Havingadiscussionwithherfatherwasasdangerous

asswimminginatwelve-footpool.Thepossibilityofdrowningwasveryreal.Inwords,notwater.

Backtrackingalittle,shesaid,“It’snotabigdeal.ThisisthefirsttimeI’veeverbeenkickedout

ofclass.”

“Butisitthelast?”Heinchedforward,leaninghisforearmsagainsthisthighs.“Mel,sweetheart,I

knowit’sunfairthatthingsareharderforyou,becauseyou’remydaughter.Peopleexpectmorefromyou,
but do you think they’d have such high expectations if they didn’t see potential in you? You could do
anything.Beinthehonorroll.Evenbeatthetopofyourclass.”

Sheknewwhatwascomingnext,almostsaidthewordsrightalongwithhim.
“Ifyouonlyappliedyourself,”hecontinued.
Didn’t he know she was doing that already, applying herself to being the perfect daughter with

everythingshehad?

Wasn’tthatenough?
Shedidn’tdarelookup,didn’ttrustherselfenoughtonotsaythewordsthatwerethreateningto

clawtheirwayoutofherlips.

“I’lltrytodobetter,Pa,”shesaid,keepinghereyesgluedtothefloralpatternonherbedspread.
Hestoodupandrubbedherhair.“That’smygirl.”
Melissa flopped down on her bed the second the door closed behind him. She couldn’t take

anotherconversationlikethatinthenearfuture,soshehadtomakesureofonething.Shewasstayingas
farawayfromLanceOrdonezaspossible.

Anotherknocksoundedatthedoor,andshealmostpulledthecoversoverherheadatthethought

thatitmightbeherfatheragain.Itwassomeoneelseentirely.Hermothernudgedthedooropen,bearinga
plateoffreshlybakedoatmealcookies.Concernwrinkledherbrow.“CanIcomein?”

Eveninhercurrentstate,howcouldshepossiblyresistoatmealcookies?
HermotherlookedlikeshesteppedoutofthepagesofGoodHousekeeping,craftedshabbychic

thingslikeitwashercalling,andmostofall,bakedcookiesthattastedlikeangelshadthrownthemdown
fromheaven.

She walked into the room, placed the plate of cookies far out of her reach on the desk, and sat

besideher.“So,Iheardyourconversationwithyourfather.”

“Wasthataconversation?Ithoughtitwasmoreofalecture.”
Hermotherchuckledlightlyinresponse,fingersreachingouttorunthroughMelissa’shair.“He

asksforalittletoomuchsometimes,butyouknowhemeanswell,especiallysinceheknowshowsmart
youare.”

If her father thought she was smart, how come every conversation with him made her feel so

stupid?

Melissasighedandlethermothercontinuerunningherfingersthroughherhair.Somethingtoldher

oatmeal cookies and words of comfort were starting to be, well, not enough after seventeen years of
enduringherfather’sexpectations.

Prettysoon,somethinghadtogive.Sheonlyhopeditwasn’ther.
***
It’saschoolnight.
The words slithered into Lance’s mind and made him pause in the middle of bringing his beer

bottletohislips.Theirsuddenappearancewasstrange.Heputthebottledownonthetableinfrontof
him,beadsofcondensationslidingdownitssides.

Forasecond,hehadtoreorienthimselftohissurroundings.Uponawoodenstage,aliveband

whose combined age was about 200 played their version of a popular rock song, its rhythm scratching
againsthisheadlikenails.Therustykindthatleftangry,redmarks.

Inky darkness turned the bodies on the dance floor into silhouettes. Red and blue lights whirled

aroundthem,highlightingaface,graspinghands,orabaremidriffinrandomsuccession.

Heburiedhisfaceinhispalmandgroaned.
Wasthereatimethatthis,gettingwastedfornoapparentreason,hadbeenfun?
Onaschoolnight,noless,addedavoicethatsoundedsuspiciouslylikeMelissa.
“You’reboringme,”JaceHernandezsaidoverthedesecrationhewouldn’tcallmusic.Thelights

dancedtheirwayacrossJace’sfacefromtimetotime,highlightinghisfreakishlysymmetricalfeatures.

LancewatchedJace,hisbestfriend,wipethelipofthebottlewithatissuebeforetakingasipof

hisbeer.HeknewJacewasgoingtopullhandsanitizeroutofhispocketassoonasthebottlewasempty.

Asidefrombeinganeatfreak,thesecondmostnotablethingaboutJacewasthathehadperfected

whatLancereferredtoasTheGlare—alookthatcombinedderision,contempt,andirritationinonefell
swoop.AlookJacewascurrentlyaiminginhisdirection.

“Areyoumopingbecauseyougottheprincipal’sdaughterkickedoutofclass?”Jacesaid,thehint

ofasmiletuggingupthecornersofhislips.

Apparently, even if he was assigned to another class section, his supposed best friend knew

everythingandwasofferingnosympathy.

“Ilikeyoumorewhenyou’requiet,”hesaidinresponse.
Hewasn’tinthemoodtodiscusswhathappenedearlierwithanyone.Jacegotthehintandsank

back into his seat, grabbing handfuls of peanuts every few seconds. Lost in the sea of people without
anythingto do, Lancegrabbed his beerbottle, but instead ofchugging down itscontents like he usually
would,hetwirleditaroundinhishands.

His mind drifted back to Melissa’s moles, the Big Dipper on the universe of her skin, and he

almostlaughedathimself.

Hewasared-bloodedeighteen-year-old.
Boobs,giganticonesinparticular,weresupposedtobehigherthanmolesontheRichterscaleof

bodyparts.

Maybehewasdrunk,butno,he’donlyhadasiportwosofar.Hewascompletelysober.Maybe

itwasthenightandthewayitdraggedonandonwithnoendinsight,suckinginhisgoodmoodlikea
vacuum.

Giving up getting wasted on a Monday night as a lost cause, he returned the beer bottle on the

tableandpulledafewbillsoutofhiswallet.“I’mcallingitanight.”

Jacemerelynodded,hisgazesomewhereinthedistance.
He tapped his friend on the shoulder one last time and made his way to his parked car, a red

NissanJuke.TheSUVwasaneighteenthbirthdaypresent—abribe,really—fromhisfather,likeowning
thevehicularequivalentofaparent’saffectionmadeupforallthemissedbirthdaysandvacantseatsat
basketballgames.

Lance shook his head as he drove out of the parking lot. Now was not a good time to let his

thoughtsgodownthatroad.Hedecidedtoconcentrateonthefeelofthesteeringwheelbeneathhishands.

Beforeheknewit,hewashome,leavingthedarkstreetsandyellowstreetlightsbehindinablur.

The kitchen lights almost blinded him the second he turned them on. He rummaged through the fridge,
creating a formidable tower of food composed of a loaf of bread, peanut butter, blueberry jam, and a
gallonofDoubleDutchicecream.Grabbingtwospoonsandtuckingthetoweroffoodunderhischin,he
madehiswaytothefamilymovieroom.

Callingita‘family’movieroomwaspushingit,though.Hecouldn’trememberthelasttimeall

three of them—his Dad, his sister Julianne, and Lance himself—had been in this room together, had
enjoyedtheplushseatsthatweremorecomfortablethantheonesfoundinamodernmovietheater.

HisfatherwasalwaysinManilawheretheheadquartersfortheirconstructioncompanycouldbe

found.Juliannewascompletinghermaster’sdegreeinAustralia,andshewasn’tcominghomeforanother
sixmonths.

Hismotherleftwhenhewasfive,aroundthetimetheirbusinessseemedlikeitwasgoingunder.It

taught him at a very young age that people always left when things got hard, so why bother putting in
effort?

He pulled his phone out and found a text message from his father’s assistant telling him his

allowanceforthemonthhadbeendepositedtohisaccount.Notevenawordabouthowhisfatherwas
doing,noquestionsabouthisfirstdaybackatschool.

Nothingnew.
HeknewJuliannewasn’tgoingtopickup,buthedialedhernumberanyway.Ifheclosedhiseyes,

hecouldalmostimagineherstandinginfrontofhim,allthatlong-hairshedyedaquamarineattheends
andthefacethatwasamirrorimageofhis.

“Hey,”hesaidafterthebeepsignalingtherecordinghadstarted.“I’mcallingtosayyoushould

startcollecting cats soon.They’re going tobe your only companionswhen you growold. I suggest you
name the first one Sleepy.” He sighed. “I know you miss me, so give me a call when you have time,
okay?”

Hedroppedhisphoneononeofthechairsonthefirstrowandpickedoutabrainlesscomedy.In

theend,hecouldn’tevenpayattentiontothemovie.Forthesecondtimethatnight,heburiedhisfacein
hishandsandgroaned.

Whatwaswrongwithhim?
He was Lance Ordonez. He had more friends than he could count and lived in a twelve-room

mansionwithfivemaids,agardener,apoolboy,andadriver.Hewassurroundedbymorepeoplethan
anyhumanbeingcouldpossiblywanttomeetinasinglelifetime.

So,whywaslonelinessstillthreateningtodevourhimalive?

ChapterThree

ThecloudswereanovercastgraywhenMelissaarrivedatschoolthenextday.Fatraindropsfellfromthe
sky,makingtinypuddlesonthepavement.Itwasthekindofdaythatwasbeggingtobewretched.

Shedidn’tcare.Itmight'veaswellbeenfullofsunshineandrainbowswhenshewalkedintoher

firstperiodclassroomandfoundLancenowhereinsight.Hisannoyinglygorgeousselfwasnotparkedon
theseatbehindhers.

Wonderofwonders.
She wanted to beg her mother to bake the banana chocolate muffins she only made on special

occasionsandshareitwitheverypersonintheroom.

"Whyareyousohappythismorning?"Camtooktheseatnexttoher,shakingdropletsofrainfrom

herhair.

Melissachosenottoanswer.Instead,shemeaningfullyslidhereyesovertotheemptydesk.
"Iwouldn'tgetmyhopesupifIwereyou,"Camsaid,hereyesonthedoorway.
Lance strutted into the classroom like it was a Calvin Klein runway with two minutes to spare,

vintageRayBansunglassesperchedonhisperfectnose.Evenwhenfunctioningonlittlesleepandfresh
fromanightofpartying,hestilllooked110%betterthanthree-quartersoftheschool'smalepopulation.It
wasgrosslyunfair.

Lanceoozed—glided,ifshewasbeinghonest—intohisseatandtookoffhissunglasses.Whenhe

sawthetwoofthemlooking,aslowgrinspreadacrosshisface.“WorriedIwasn’tgoingtobearound?”

Hiseyesweredistracting,sobrowntheymadeagirlwanttoorderupanespresso.
Shedidn’tevendrinkcoffee.
Melissaknewhewasitchingforbanter,alittleskirmishtostarttheday,butshehadlearnedher

lessonwell.Thankfully,shewassavedfromreplyingwhenMs.Mendez,theirChristianLivingteacher,
enteredtheclassroom,trailingacloudoffloweryperfumebehindher.

The lecture started, but she kept on twirling her gold pen between her fingers, unable to

comprehendanythingbeyondastrayphrase.Behindher,Lancewassuspiciouslyquiet.Nopick-uplines
orfurtherinvitationsto“hangout”whichshebelievedwerecodefor"let'smakeoutuntilIgetboredand
breakyourheart."

Wasthatdisappointmentbrewinginherchest?
Shegrabbedthatthoughtbythethroat,threwitontheground,andstompedittodeath.
TherewerefifteenminutesleftinChristianLivingwhentheothershoe,theoneshe'dbeenwaiting

forallalong,dropped.Onehandreachedoutandyankedherpenoutofherhands.Lightningfast,likea
snakesnatchingupitsprey.

Herfirstinstinctwastoturnaround,butshecaughtherselfrightintime.Lancewantedtopushher

buttons. Well, she was going to show him they were locked away in a secure vault with a fifteen-digit
securitycodehewasnevergoingtohaveaccessto.

"Youknow,I'vebeenwonderingwhyyouwritewithgoldinkinsteadoftheblackwe'resupposed

to be using," Lance said from behind her. She heard wood scraping against the floor, the sound of him
movinghischaircloser.

Melissa’sjawdroppedopen.Howcouldsomeonesoself-absorbedhavepossiblynoticedthat?
When she offered no explanation, he came up with one himself. "You've got a rebellious streak

underneathallthatpastel.You'rejusttooafraidtoshowit."

Lookingdownatthegoldletterswrittenonhernotebook,shegotthehorrifyingfeelingthathe’d

hitthenailonthehead.Sometimes,anitchtodyeherhaircottoncandypink,getthreepiercingsinone
ear,orgooutwithsomeoneherfatherwouldneverapproveofgnawedather.

Breakingtherulesalittlebyusingdifferentcoloredink?Shefeareditwasonlythebeginning.
Itwasherbest-keptsecret.
Andforsometwistedreason,Lance,ofallpeople,hadfigureditout.
“Isthereaproblem,Mr.Ordonez?”Ms.Mendezsaidfromthefrontoftheroom.
Thistime,shecouldn’thelpherself.Sheturnedaroundtolookathim,waitingtoseehowhewas

goingtocharmhiswayoutofthisone.

Bankingonlooksthatmadefemaleheartswithinafive-mileradiusflutter,Lanceleanedbackon

hischair,placedbothhandsbehindhishead,andsaid,“Noneatall,Ms.Mendez.”

Theirteacherplacedahandonherhip.“Then,perhapsyoucananswermyquestion.”
Melissaalmostsmiled.
Watchinghimsquirmwasgoingtobeentertaining.
Lance’scooldidn’tslipatall.Hebeameddownatherlikehisdaybeganandendedwithevery

minutespentinherpresence.“I’msorry,Ms.Mendez.Ididn’thearyourquestion,becauseIwastoobusy
admiringMelissa’sprofile.Haveyouevernoticedhowcutehernoseis?”

Thewholeclassburstintoamusedlaughter.
Excepther.
Theurgetobludgeonhimwithher400-pagePhysicstextbookbecamealmostunbearable.
Even Ms. Mendez wasn’t immune to the scourge on the female population that happened to be

Lance.Theteacher’smouthpulledupatthecorners,threateningtoturnintoafull-blownsmile.“Youcan
admireMs.Ortiz’sprofilesomeothertime,Mr.Ordonez.Atthemoment,Irequireyourfullattention.”

“I’lltrymybest,Ms.Mendez,”Lancesaidwithawink.
Shecouldn’tbelieveit.
Heactuallywinked.
MelissamadeamentalnotetotalktoherfatheraboutthedisciplinaryproceduresinSaintAgnes

Catholic Academy. The teachers, especially the younger ones like Ms. Mendez, were too lenient. Why
couldn’ttheyallbeintoChinesewatertortureliketheirmonsterofaPhysicsteacher?

Thenextperiodflewbyinasomewhattenseblur.Lanceconvenientlyforgottoreturnherpen.
Despitethenumberoftimeshekickedherchairandthenumerouspick-uplineshehurledinher

direction,Melissadidn'tgivehimonespeckofattention.Shepretendedhewasnothingmorethanvapor,
whichwasprettyimpossibleconsideringhewassixfeetandtwoinchesofdeliciousboy.

Whenthebellrang,sheboltedoutofherseat,likeshe'dbeensittingonburningcoalsforthelast

hour. Side-by-side, she and Cam walked to the cafeteria together. It had stopped raining, and fat, fluffy
cloudsbegantopopulatethesky.

AbunchofGradeTengirlssittingonthebenchessurroundingthequadrangletitteredintogiggles

whentheypassed.OnegirlpointedatherwithaFrench-manicuredfinger.

Uneasebegantocrawlupherspine.Shewasn’tatthetopofherclasslikeherfatherwanted,but

shewasn’tstupid.Lancehadsomethingtodowiththosegigglinggirls;shewaswillingtobetherukulele
onit.Hereyesdartedfromonecornerofthequadrangletoanother,buthewasnowhereinsight.What
hadhedonethistime?

“Oh, Mel.” Cam’s lips turned into a thin line, fighting back a laugh. Her best friend removed a

pieceofnotebookpaperthathadapparentlybeentapedtoherbackthewholetimeandhandedittoher.

Itsaid,LANCEORDONEZISASEXYBEAST.
Thewordswerewritteningoldink.
Melissastareddownatthewordswithoutsayinganythingforwhatseemedlikealifetime.Inher

mind, a thousand volcanoes exploded, lava decimating entire civilizations. She almost balled up the
notebookpaperandmarchedrightbacktotheirclassroomtostuffitdownLance’sthroat.

Butsherememberedshewastheprincipal’sdaughterandwasneverallowedtolosehertemper.
Shewasdonegettingangry.
Shewasgettingeven.
***
BytapingthatheinouspieceofpapertoMelissa'sback,Lancehadoutrightdeclaredwar.Itdidn’t

matterthatshehadlivedintheworldofpastelclothingandromanticcomediesallherlifeandclearlyhad
noexperienceinwarfare.Shewasafastlearner.

"Weneedtocomeupwithsomethingthatwillobliteratehim."Melissastareddownattheideas

written on her notebook. The words were written in purple ink. Lance's little prank had left her with a
suddendistasteforherstandardgold.

"Obliterate?We'restilltalkingaboutaprank,right?Nothomicide?"Camsaid,takingasipofher

mangoSlurpee.

Theywere seated onone of thetables at a 7-Elevenbranch about ablock away from Melissa's

house,almostpressedupagainsttheglasswall.Twopacksofcheese-flavoredRuffles,chocolatebars,
Cam’scamera,andtheirrespectiveSlurpeeswerescatteredacrossthetablesurface.

Outside, late afternoon slowly transitioned into evening, the sky a hazy cross between pink and

red. The pavements were still wet after another rain shower, puddles splashing every time a jeepney
droveby.

"No,let'smakehomicidealastresort."Shewrotedowntheword'homicide'andcrosseditoutto

Cam'sdelight."Lance'segoishismostprizedpossession,soweshouldstartwiththat."

"As long as he looks like that, I don't think we can do much damage," Cam said, waggling her

eyebrowsmeaningfully.

"Hedoesn'tlookthatgood."
"Your nostrils flare every time you lie," her best friend since kindergarten pointed out. "If you

openthedictionaryandlookfortheword'gorgeous,'you'llfindhispicture.Webothknowit."

The words she was about to utter dissolved on the tip of her tongue, because the love of her

adolescent life, Hunter Alvarez, pushed open the doors of 7-Eleven and stepped inside. All the usual
HunterSightingsignsscrambledforfirstplace—tripledheartrate,clammypalms,andtheutterinability
tostringwordstogether.

Hestoodinfrontoftheaislecontainingshampoos,staringdownatthearrayofproductswithhis

intense,deep-seteyes.MelissahadneverwantedtobeabottleofRejoicesomuchinherentirelife.

Theirparentswerefriends,soshehadalwaysknownHunter,attendinghisbirthdaypartiessince

theyeartheorange-hairedmascotatafastfoodchainthatshallremainunnamedmadethembothcry.

Thingschangedatthestartofhighschool.Huntershotupbyseveralinches,becameadrummer

forarockband,andgrewhispreviouslyshorthairintoaspikyfaux-hawk.Shestartedwonderinghowhis
vintageTheRamonesT-shirtsmelled,whichwasprettypathetic.

Shecheckedherreflectiononherphone'sscreen,wonderingifthefloralplaysuitshewaswearing

madeherlooklikeagrandmaorlikeshe'dbeendressedbyasix-year-old.

"Youlookgreat,"Camsaidoutofthecornerofhermouthsotheywouldn'tbeheard.
"ShouldIwalkuptohim?Wouldthatbeweird?"sheasked,hereyestrailingHunter.

"Please.You'veknowneachothersinceyouguyswereindiapers."
Hunterlefttheshampooaisleandwanderedovertothejunkfoodsection.Drumsticksstuckoutof

thebackpocketofhiscargoshorts.WhenhegrabbedalargepackofRuffles,herfavorite,Melissatookit
asasign.

"I'mgoingovertotalktohim."Shelinedupherpennexttohernotebook,stoodup,andtooka

deepbreath.

She walked over to where he was still standing by the junk food aisle and tapped him on the

shoulder.

Asmileregisteredonhisfacewhenhesawher,thedimpleonhisleftcheekmakingheralittle

breathless.“Hey,Mel.”

He was wearing another band shirt today. It was gray and proclaimed his liking for a bunch of

hipstermusiciansshehadneverheardof.Maybewalkingovertotalktohimwasn’tsuchagreatidea.

What if he brought up something music-related and discovered her playlist featured mainstream

popsongs?

Shegulped.
“Areyouherewithyourparents?”Hunterproddedwhenshedidn’trespond.
Hewasbeingsonormal.
Whycouldn’tshedothesame?
“I’m,um,herewithafriend.”MelissapointedtothetablewhereCamsat.Herbestfriendperked

upandproceededtowavelikeanoverlyeagerpuppy,knockinganunopenedpackofpotatochipstothe
floor.

ShemadeamentalnotetoherselfthatCamwastheworstwingwomanever.
Hunter waved back, amusement written across his features. He faced her again, still smiling.

“How’veyoubeenlately?”

“I’vebeengood.Schoolhasbeenkeepingmeprettybusy.Andmyukulele.YouknowIplaythe

ukulele, right? Of course, I don’t write songs like you do.” Melissa knew she was babbling but was
powerlesstostopherself.

Totalwordvomit.
Now,Hunterwasmostlikelygoingtomakesomelameexcuseandsprinthiswaytothecashierto

avoidtalkingtoher.Shecouldn’tblamehim.

Contrarytoherexpectations,heleanedatinybitcloser.“Youplaytheuke?Ididn’tknowthat.”
“Ido.Imean,I’veknownhowtoplayitforafewyearsnow.
She couldn’t believe it. They were having an honest to goodness conversation, something that

hadn’thappenedsincepubertydidwonderfulthingstoHunter’sface.

Andhishair.
Andhisshoulders.
Shecouldgoonallday.
Henodded.“That’scool.Maybeyoucanteachme?”
Melissa’s heart did a funny little jig in her chest. Was he flirting with her? If yes, how was she

goingtostopherselffromlosingthelittlecoolshehadleftamidsttherowsofcheese-flavoredchips?

“Su-sure.I’dlikethat,”shefinallymanagedtosay.
“Okay.” Hunter smiled one more time before aiming a thumb in the direction of the cashier. “I

havetogopayforthis.TessathrowsamajorfiteverytimeItaketoolongbuyingoursnacks.”

“Sayhitoherforme.”
His adoration for Tessa, his six-year-old sister, was clear in the way he said her name. She

mentallyaddedittotheReasonsWhyILikeHunterAlvarezlistshefiledawayinacornerofhermind.

Theysaidtheirgoodbyes,andMelissawalkedbacktothetableshesharedwithCam.Shewastoo

busy daydreaming about guiding Hunter’s fingers along her ukulele that she knocked into a rack full of
superglue.Thetinyredpackagesfelltotheground,clatteringastheymadecontact.

“I’mreallysorry,”shesaidtonooneinparticular,wishingshecoulddisappearintoathinpuffof

smoke.Thankfully,Hunterhadhisbackturnedanddidn’tseehertotallyembarrassherself.

Melissabentdowntopickupaplastic-sheathedtubeofsuperglue,butthewords‘ExtraStrength’

on the packaging made her stop. A smile that had nothing to do with Hunter and everything to do with
revengecurvedherlips.

SheknewexactlywhattodowithallthatExtraStrength.

ChapterFour

Lancewasusedtogirlsmakingthefirstmove.Theyapproachedhiminbars,askedforhisnumber,and
things took off from there. He was not used to exerting the tiniest amount of effort. So, it was a big
surprise that he’d even bothered to steal Melissa’s pen and tape that piece of paper with the heinous
messageonherback.

Itwasanevenbiggersurprisewhenitresultedin…nothing.
Absolutelynothing.
Whenhesmiledatheratthecafeteria,sheturnedherheadandpretendedshehadn’tseenhim.
Thankfully,theuniverse—ormaybetheirEconomicsteacher,Mrs.Genise—wasonhisside.
“Goodmorning,class.”Mrs.Genisestoodatthefrontoftheroom,clappingtwoeraserstogether.

“Economicsdealswiththeproduction,distribution,andconsumptionofgoods.Italsodealswithmoney.
Those of you on the odd rows, I suggest you turn to the person sitting behind you. You’ll be discussing
theirfinancesforthenexthour.”

Infrontofhim,Melissa’sspineslowlystraightened,turningasrigidas…Hestoppedbeforehe

cameupwithadirtymetaphor.

“Whenthegiventimeperiodisover,Iwantyoutocometothefrontanddiscusshowyourpartner

spends his or her allowance,” Mrs. Genise continued. “The most mundane details are welcome. If they
earntheirallowance,Iwanttohearthat,too.”

LancewatchedasMelissa’seyesflewtoCam’sforsalvation,somesortofhopethatshehadn’t

heardMrs.Geniseright.Camsmiledweaklyinresponse.Hewishedhehadamorecomfortableseatand
somebutterpopcorn,becausethingswereabouttogetinteresting.

Melissaraisedherhand.“Mrs.Genise?”
Theteacherturnedaroundtolookather.“Yes?”
“Can we be partners with the people sitting next to us instead?” Melissa motioned to Cam, her

faceacompleteblank.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Ortiz, but no,” Mrs. Genise said. “The point of this activity is to broaden your

horizons.Hopefully,you’llallgraduateinninemonthsandstartcollegewhereyou’llbesurroundedby
peoplefromallwalksoflife.I’msimplyspeedinguptheprocess.”

Lancecouldn’thelphimself.
Hesnickered.
Loudly.
Melissaloweredherhand,curlingthefingersintoafist.Shewantedtopunchhimuntilhisnose

bled.Hecouldtell.Refusingtoacceptdefeat,sheliftedherchair,likeherotherclassmatesweredoing,
andfacedhim,hisdeskbetweenthem.

Herhairwasinsomesortoffancybraidthatrandowntheleftsideofhernecktoday,athinpurple

headbandholdingtherestofitinplace.Forthefirsttimesincehegotherkickedoutofclass,sheraised
hereyestomeethis,andLancefeltlikehe’dbeenkickedinthechest.Shewas…what?

He’dneverbeengoodatwords,butheknew‘beautiful’didn’tevenbegintocoverit.
Alltheseyears,howcouldhehavenevernoticed?
Andthenshesighed.“Let’sgetthisoverwith.”
Thewordsbroughthimbacktoreality.Shewasn’tmadlyinlovewithhim.Infact,hewaspretty

sureshewantedtodropthecontentsofthenearestwastebasketoverhishead.

Sowhat?
Hewasn’tinlovewithher,either.
“So…”Lancemadeashowofflippinghisnotebookopenandpullingoutacertaingoldpenoutof

hisbackpack.“Howdoyouspendyourallowance?”

“Onclothesmostly,thoughItrynottospendtoomuch.AndoncolaSlurpees.Weliveneara7-

Eleven,andItendtogotherewheneverI’mbored,”Melissasaid,soundinglikeshe’dratherbeinafar-
flungdungeonthantalkingtohim.“You?”

“Me?”Hepointedathimself.“Oh,theusual.Voodoodolls,humanintestines,frogeyes.”
Onecornerofhermouthpulledup,clearlyholdingbackasmile.
Healmostthoughtshewasgoingtorespondwithsomethingwittywhensheshutdownonhim.
Thedisappointmentthatsuddenlyfloodedhischestwasbaffling.
“Anddoyouhavetoearnyourallowance?”Melissasaid,hereyesonhernotebook.
“No,Idon’thavetoearnit.Notreally.You?”Heleaneddown,tryingtogethertolookathim.
“Prettymuch.Papamakesmedochoresaroundthehouse,likehauloutthegarbageorweedthe

garden.”

Hesatupstraight,unabletokeeptheinterestoutofhisvoice.“Theprincipal?”
“Whoelse?Hedrivesmecrazysometimes,becausehe’salwaysonmycaseabout—”Melissa’s

eyeswidenedasifsherealizedwhoshewastalkingto.Providingtheenemywithammunitionwasclearly
notonheragenda.

Silenceenvelopedthem.
Itmust’vebeenforonlyaboutaminute,butitseemedtostretchonandon.Hescrambledtomake

senseofeverythingasthepuzzlepiecesfellintoplace,whyshewasdead-setongettinggoodgradesand
actingsoperfectallthetime.

He didn’t know who was more surprised out of the two of them when he didn’t come up with

another jackass response. Instead, he gave her a smile without a single hint of mockery and said, “It’s
okayifyourfather’sonyourcasealot.Minedoesn’tevennoticeI’malive.”

Melissa’sjawdroppedopen.“You—”
“Alldone,class?”Mrs.Genisereturnedtoherpositionatthefrontoftheroomandsurveyedthem

allwitheagereyes.Shecalledoutthefirstpair,andtheydiscussedwhattheylearnedabouteachother’s
finances.

Whenitwastheirturn,Lancesaid,“I’llgofirst,okay?”
“Sure.”Melissanodded.
Heclearedhisthroatbeforespeaking.“Ilearnedalotofthingsaboutmypartner,MelissaOrtiz,

today,andmostofthemweresurprising.”

ApprovalflashedonMrs.Genise’sface.Heknewthiswasthekindofthingshe’dbeenhopingfor

whenshesaidshewantedherstudentstobroadentheirhorizons.

He opened his mouth to speak but made the mistake of staring down at his classmates. Did he

really want to tell them that Melissa’s father made her weed the garden to earn her allowance? Did he
wanttoletthemknowthatshespentalittletoomuchmoneyoncola-flavoredSlurpees?Forsomereason,
hewantedtokeepthosethingstohimself.

Alittlewhilelonger.
Thewordstheypracticedearliervanishedinthefaceofhisdubiousgoodintentions.
“Apparently,MelissaspendsmostofherallowancepayingfortheirInternetbill,soshecanlook

forshirtlessphotosofmeonline.”Lanceshookhisheadinasorry-girls-can’t-help-itwayandlookedat

her.“Mel,ifyouwantedtolookatmyhot,sculptedbody,allyouhadtodowasask.”

Theirclassmateseruptedinlaughter.
Melissa,ontheotherhand,waspracticallyvibratingwithanger,herlipsdisappearingintoathin

line.Hewonderedifhe’dpushedhertoofar,ifthiswasthetimeshewasfinallygoingtounleashallthat
ragingfireshekepttryingtowaterdown.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they were calm and

devoidofanger.Disappointmentreturnedtohischestwithavengeance.

Inavoicethatwasassweetasthepurpleheadbandinherhair,shesaid“I’msureyourclients

haveagreattimegropingthathot,sculptedbodyofyours,Lance.Youdidmentionearlierthatyourpart-
timejobasamaleprostitutesuppliesyouwithaheftyallow—”

Melissa stopped in mid-sentence, her eyes growing wide at her outburst. She bit down on her

bottom lip as if more words were threatening to jump out. A furious blush began to spread across her
cheeksandneck.Lancecouldonlygrinather.

Hedidit.
He managed to put a crack in her Perfect Daughter Robot exterior, but as his grin grew wider,

somethingheavysankinhisstomach.Pushinghertoofarmightnothavebeenhisbestidea.

Forthefirsttime,itoccurredtohimthathe’dbittenoffmorethanhecouldchew,andthatmaybe,

thisunpredictableversionofMelissaOrtizwassomeonehecouldn’thandle.

***
Hisfirstmistakewasthinkingshewasn'tcapableofanythingsinister.
Lancedidn'tknowthiswhenhewalkedintotheirclassroomafterlunchandfoundMelissacalmly

organizingherpensinaneatrowonherdesk,liketheday'searliereventshadn'thappenedatall.Shewas
thepictureofagoodstudent,hairbraidedagainintoperfection.

Healmostsighed.
The wooden seat felt warmer than usual when he sat down, like someone else's butt had kept it

warm for the last five minutes. One row away, Cam sneaked glances at him. When their eyes met, he
raisedhiseyebrowsather,andhecouldalmostswearabeadofsweatbegantoformonherupperlip.

Somethingwasgoingonhere,andhedidn'tlikeitonebit.
HisgazeflickedbacktoMelissawhowasstillarrangingherpens.Hewantedtoswipeonefrom

underhernosetoshakeherup.Therewerebetterthingsinlifetolookat.

Hisface,forexample.
TheystillhadfiveminutesbeforethetortureknownastheirPhysicsclassstarted,sohepulledhis

chairclosertohers.“Ifyou’regoodinAlgebra,canyousubstitutemyXwithoutaskingY?”

Itwascheesyandcompletelyrippedoffsomesitehefoundonline,butitwasthebesthecoulddo

onshortnotice.

Foraheart-stoppingminute,hethoughtshewasn’tgoingtorespond.Shecontinuedtoyingwiththe

peninherhand,butintheend,itwasasifshecouldn’thelpherself.Thedambrokeearlierwhenshelost
control,andthewordsshe’dkeptinsideforsolongwouldn’tstoppouringout.

“Whichex?”shesaidinavoicesoquiethebarelyheardher.
“What?”
“Which ex do you want me to substitute?” Her voice increased in volume, confidence stitching

througheverysyllable.“NoelleCalderon?JennyRodriguez?LykaAbella?BeaSandoval?Icouldgoon,
butIthinkyouseemypoint.”

‘Shocked’would’vebeenacolossalunderstatementforhowLancefelt.
Hehaddatedeachofthegirlsshenamedforlessthanfivemonths,breakingthingsoffwhenthey

gottooserious,orwhenhemetsomeonemoreexciting.Rinseandrepeat.

Hewasn’tparticularlyproudofhisratherextensivedatingrecord,butatleasthecouldsaythat

he’dneverdatedtwogirlsatthesametime.

Technically.
HisbreakupwithLyka,thesalutatorian,hadbeenparticularlybad.He’dslippedanotethatsaid

‘We’reover’inthenoteshe’dborrowedfromher.Goodthingtheydidn’thaveanyclassestogether.

ButhewasalsotakenabackbytherealizationthatheknewnexttonothingaboutMelissa’sdating

history.Hadsheeverdatedanyonefromtheirschool?

Didshedate?Wassheevenallowedto?
Notwantinghertorealizewherehisthoughtsweregoing,Lancecarefullyerasedtheshockfrom

hisfeatures.

“Sounds like you want to be added to the list,” he drawled, wondering how she was going to

react.Shewasabitofawildcardnow,alwaystoeingthelinebetweenfightingbackandignoringhim.

“Sorry,butbeinganothernotchonyourbedpostisn’tmylifelongambition.”Melissadidn’teven

bother to turn around. She merely leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, the
movementbringingherneckclosertohisface.

The smell of lavender struck him with sudden force. His eyes were drawn once more to the

constellation-shapedmolesonherneckandwandereddowntothevagueoutlineofabraclaspshowing
throughherwhiteblouse.Thatoutlinealonetiltedhisworldonitsaxis.

Ifshecouldtellwhathewasthinking,shewasgoingtowrapherfancybraidaroundhisneckand

simplypull.

Heclearedhisthroatandshookhisheadevenifshecouldn’tseehim.“Ineversaidbeinganotch

onmybedpostwasyourlifelongambition,justyourdeepest,darkestfantasy.”

AsqueakofindignationescapedMelissa’slips,andthegravityinhisworldwasrestored.They

werebackonequalfootingashercheeksturnedred.

His eyes were back on her neck again. He wasn’t doing himself any favors by sitting there and

oglingherneck,likeathirteen-year-oldwhowasgettinghisfirstlookatarealpairofboobs.

Needingtogetagriponhimself,heattemptedtogotalktooneofhisteammateswhosatafew

rows away. Attempted was the keyword. He pushed himself off his chair, but it wouldn’t budge. It had
attacheditselftohisslacks,somesortofsuperglueseepingthroughthefabricandlatchingontohisskin.

“Youdidthis,”hesaidtothebackofMelissa’shead,unabletokeepthereluctantadmirationout

ofhisvoice.

Thistime,shedeignedtoglanceathimoverhershoulder.Herfacethepictureofinnocence,she

said,“Proveit.”

Un-freaking-believable.
ButallthesmugnessevaporatedfromherfacewhenMr.Rodriguez,theirPhysicsteacher,walked

into the room. No matter how smart you thought you were, there was always one thing you overlooked
whenyouwerenewtotheartoftroublemaking.

Melissa forgot to plan for the aftermath. It showed in the way she nervously doodled in her

notebook,eachstrokeleavingadeepdentonthepages.Hedidn’thavemuchofachoicesincehewas
gluedtohisseat,buthewasgoingtoenjoythecomingfireworksshow.

Infact,hewasgoingtomilkeveryminuteofit.
Mr.Rodriguezsoonfilledtheblackboardwithequationsandformulasthatbarelymadesenseto

any of them. When he noticed that most of their eyes were glazing over, he stopped, his gaze bouncing
around the room in search of his next target. His eyes locked on Lance. “Mr. Ordonez, you seem to be

uncharacteristicallyquiettoday.Whydon’tyougotothefrontoftheroomandregaleuswithyouranswer
tothisproblem?”

Lanceknewasmuchabouttheclassdiscussionashedidabouthisfather’sdailylifeinManila.
Absolutelynothing.
HegainedasenseofsatisfactionwhenMelissa’sfaceturnedaswhiteasthenotebookpageshe

waswritingon,knowingfullwellhecouldn’tstandupwithoutdragginghischairtothefrontoftheroom.

“I’d love to, Mr. Rodriguez, but I can’t.” Lance tried to keep his voice even. He watched

Melissa’sgriptightenonherpen,herknucklesturningwhitewithexertion.

“Andwhynot?Can’tyougraceusmeremortalswithyourpresence?”Mr.Rodriguezraisedhis

bushyeyebrows.

“Melissa’sbeautyisbindingmetomyseat.”
Itwasn’tthatfarfromthetruth.
Underothercircumstancesandwithanyotherteacher,theclasswould’vetitteredwithlaughterby

that point, but their Physics teacher was like some dark, pulsating thing that sucked joy out of the
atmosphere.

Nooneevendaredtosmile.
“I’mnotkidding.”Mr.Rodriguezsaid,narrowinghiseyes.“Comehereandanswerthisproblem

beforeImakeyou.”

Heshookhishead.“Ican’t.”
“Well,then,Idon’thaveachoice,Mr.Ordonez.”Mr.Rodriguez’sfacehardened,alineforming

betweenhiseyebrows.“Getoutofmyclassroom.”

Hescratchedthebackofhishead,lookingathisteacherinexasperation.“Ican’tdothat,either.”
Thenclasswentsostillyoucouldhearpeoplebreathing.Itwascommonknowledgethatnoonein

his more than twenty years of teaching had ever defied Mr. Rodriguez. The man had no mercy when it
cametofailingstudentsandwasquitetrigger-happywithhisredpen.

“Andwhynot?”AdangerouslookglintedinMr.Rodriguez’seyes.Hestartedbouncingastickof

chalk in his left hand, almost salivating at the prospect of kicking him out of Saint Agnes Catholic
Academy.

Lancehadnootherchoicebuttotellthetruth.Hesighed.“Because,Mr.Rodriguez,Ihappentobe

gluedtomychair.”

***
TheprincipallastsummonedLancebecausehe’dbeencaughtdrawingthemostinterestingparts

ofthemaleanatomyonthewallsofthe3rdfloorboys’bathroom.

The office didn’t look that different when compared to his last visit. Sports trophies won by

various student athletes throughout the years lined the shelves behind the principal’s desk, their gold
plates ranging from brand-new to tarnished. Hardbound books about the education system filled up the
remainingshelfspace.

Mr.Ortiz,themansittingbehindthegiganticmahoganydesk,didn’tlookthatdifferent,either,but

somehow,hewas.

Beinggluedtoachairbytheman’sdaughtermighthavechangedhisperception.
“Mr.Ordonez,Iassureyouthattheunfortunatesoulwhogluedyoutoyourchairwillbeseverely

punished,”Mr.Ortizstarted,formingasteeplewithhisfingersunderhischin.“Suspension,atthevery
least.”

Themanwasgoingtoshitabrickwhenhefoundoutwhohewastalkingaboutsuspending.
AframedphotoofMelissaandherparentsontherightcornerofthedeskcaughthisattention.It

must’vebeentakenonGuimarasIslandaboutayearortwoago,mostlikelyduringthesummerwhenthe
thunderstormsstayedawayandthesunbeatdownwithtoomuchenthusiasm.Melissa’sparentshadtheir
armsaroundher,andshewassmilinginanopen-mouthedwaythatwasn’ttheleastbitself-conscious.

Herememberedwhatshesaidaboutherfatheralwaysbeingonhercase.
Lancealmostgroaned.NowwasnotthebesttimeforallthoseyearsofChristianLivinglessonsto

sinkin.

Yes,hedidwantrevengeforthesuperglueincident,butrattingherouttoherfatherwasn’tthebest

waytogetit.

Itwasn’ttherightway,either.
Beforehecouldevenquestionhimself,hestretchedhislegsoutinfrontofhimandplacedboth

hands behind his head, acting like he was sunbathing by the pool and not about to be grilled by the
principalofoneofthestrictestCatholicschoolsinthecity.“Youdon’thavetopunishanyone,Mr.Ortiz.I
hadthesuperglueinmybackpocket,andthecapfelloff.”

“Thecapfelloff?”Mr.Ortizrepeated,notbuyingwhathewasselling.Alineappearedbetween

theprincipal’seyebrows.

“Itdid.”
“You’re saying it was an accident? That nobody played a prank on you?” Mr. Ortiz gave him a

lookthatwasthevisualequivalentoftruthserum.

ItprobablymadesomeonelikeMelissacaveinseconds.
Lance,however,grewupinahousewithafatherwhotookgreatpleasureinhostiletakeoversand

abigsisterwhowould’vemadeaworld-classlawyer.ThatI’ll-wait-you-out-until-you-tell-me-the-truth
routineMr.Ortizwascurrentlyfeedinghim?Itwaschild’splay.

“Ihonestlycan’tthinkofasinglepersonwhowouldgluemetomyseatonpurpose.”Heshrugged

foraddedemphasisandgrinnedattheprincipal.“Thepeopleatthisschooladoreme.”

Exceptyourdaughter.
He hadn’t figured out how or when yet, but he was going to make Melissa pay. As much as his

fingersitchedtotracethecurveofherneck,nobodygotawaywithsupergluinghisasstoachair.

Hewasprettysuretherewerestillsplintersonhisbuttcheeks.

ChapterFive

Had one of the World War II ghosts rumored to be haunting the old buildings of Saint Agnes Catholic
AcademypossessedLance?

Didhesuddenlydiscoverthat—wonderofwonders—hehadaconscience?
Forthelifeofher,Melissacouldnotfathomwhyhedidn'ttellherfathershewasguilty,thatshe'd

beentheonewhospreadsupergluealloverhisseattwominutesbeforetheendoflunchwithCamasher
lookout.Shesimplycouldnotthinkofonegoodreasonwhyhehadn’tturnedherin.

Unlesshehadsomethingelseinmind.
Shehopedhedid,becauseifhedidn't,thatmeantonething.Hehaddoneherahugefavor.The

thoughtmadeherasuncomfortableasthehorriblyitchysweaterherAuntAidamadeherforChristmas.

AredcapshadedmostofLance'sfacewhenhewalkedintotheirclassroomthenextday,soshe

couldn'tseetheexpressiononhisface.

Washeseething?Whateverhewas,hewasmostdefinitelynotamuseduponseeingherperchedon

hisassignedseat.Feelinghisshadowfalloverher,Melissaraisedherchintospeaktohimaboutchanges
totheirseatingarrangementbutdecidedtoshutupuponseeinghisface.

God must have indeed been in a good mood when he made this boy. Lance was still gorgeous

whenhung-over,buthewasreallysomethingaftereighthoursofsleep.

Theimageofhimwithwavyhairfallingoveronesleepyeyeflashedinhermind.Shementally

slappedherselfatthesametimehermouthwentdry.

"Ilovetheselittlechatsofours,"Lancesaid,"butafteryesterday'sevents,Isuggestyougetoutof

mychair."

She almost flinched. Sweat had spilled down her back yesterday as she watched two janitors

attempttopryhimoutofthesamechairshewascurrentlysittingon.

But she persevered and put on her brightest, most innocent expression. "I already spoke to Ms.

Mendezaboutmyfarsightedness,andsheagreedtoletustradeseats."

"You'reonerowbehindme."Lanceraisedoneperfecteyebrow.
"Andwhatahugedifferenceitmakes,"shesaid,tonedrippingwithhoneysweetness.
“TheproblemisIdidn’tagree,Mel.”Lancesplayedhishandsonthedeskandleanedforward,

hisfacemereinchesfromhers.

Againstherwill,Melissa’seyesfocusedonhislips.Theywerethekindthatmadeyouwonder

whatitwouldbeliketokissthem.

Notthatsheeverwonderedaboutthat.
Sheraisedhereyestomeethis.“Youragreementwasneverrequired.”
“Think about what you’re going to lose, Mel.” Lance inched his face so close to hers that she

couldfeelhiseverybreath.Hiseyesheldhercaptive,lockingherinplace.“Youwon’tseemeeverytime
youlookbehindyou.Asidefromtheblackboard,theonlythingyou’llseeisthebackofmyhead.That’s
stillanimpressivesight,butmyfaceisfarmoreappealing,don’tyouagree?”

Unflinching,sheturnedaroundtolookbehindher.
LouieCarlos,knownforhisdeadlysilentfarts,staredbackather,aSnickersbarclutchedinhis

righthand.Hewatchedthemwithraptattention.

“No,thanks,”Melissasaidwithasmile.“I’dratherlookatLouie.”

Shakinghishead,Lanceturnedawayfromher,droppinghisbackpackonthegroundbesidewhat

usedtobeherassignedseat.Beforesittingdown,hemadeahugeshowofcheckingthechairandunderit
tothedelightoftheirclassmates.

"Stillhavesplintersonyourass?"Avoicesaidfromthedoorway.
JaceHernandezstoodthere,handstuckedintothepocketsofhisnavyblueslacks.IfGodhadbeen

inagreatmoodwhenhemadeLance,thenhe'dbeendownrightecstaticwhenhemadeJace.Hewasall
broodingeyesandquietconfidence.

If he were a dessert, the entire female population of the school agreed that he would be Rocky

Road.

Forobviousreasons.
Itwastoobadhehadbeenassignedtoanotherclasssection.
"Youshouldknowiftherearestillsplintersinmyass."Lanceresponded,hiseyesslidingfrom

JacetoMelissaandback."Youweretheonewhopulledthemout."

"Iknow.Youevencriedatonepoint."Jace'stonewasasdryasabougainvilleashrubthathadn't

been watered in weeks. When he saw Melissa ogling him, a rare smile curved his mouth. "You make
Lancecrazy.Keepitup."

"Firstofall,he'slying,"Lancesaid,walkingovertotheclassroomdoorandslammingitinJace's

face.Heturnedbacktofaceher."Secondofall,thewayyouwerestaringathimlikeapieceofmeatwas
shameful.Wipethatdrooloffthecornerofyourmouth."

Ican'thelpitifhe'sprettierthanyou.
Theretortwasonthetipofhertongue,readytojumpoutandmakeitspresenceknown,butshe

stoppedherself.Theyhadbeendownthisroadbefore,andithadalmostendedinhergettingsuspended.
Lettinghimunderherskinwasn'tasmartmove.

Withthatlastthoughtfirmlyinplace,Melissasnappedhermouthshut.HyacinthdelRosarioand

Margaret Ong, two girls she and Cam sometimes ate lunch with, were already giving her odd looks,
matchingexpressionofcuriosityontheirfaces.

"That'sit?"Lancetoweredoverher."Aftercallingmeamaleprostituteandgluingmetomychair,

you'renotgoingtosayanything?"

Healmostsoundeddisappointed.
"You'renotevengoingtoapologize?"Lancesaid,goadingheronemoretime.
Hemayhavebeenanexpertmanipulatorwhenitcametofemalesandteachers,butshehadafew

tricksuphersleeve,too.Arrangingherfeaturesintothepictureofutterboredom,sheflickedhereyesup
tohis.

"No,"wasallshesaid,hopingshesoundedhalfascoldasJacedidonanormalday.
"Suityourself,"Lancesaid,takinghisseatinfrontofher.
Ms.Mendezsoonenteredtheclassroomandstartedtheday'sdiscussion.Asifhe'dfinallygotten

boredofmessingwithher,Lancestaredattheblackboardtheentiretime.Heonlylookedawayonceto
retrievesomethingfromhisbackpack.Backstraight.Onehandtakingcarefulnoteswiththegoldpenhe
stolefromher.

Whatwasupwithhim?
When Ms. Mendez had her back turned, Melissa caught Cam's eye. She nodded in Lance's

direction,silentlyaskingifhewasuptosomething.Camshruggedinresponse.

Shealmostsighedinrelief.
MaybeLancehaddecidedtomoveontoanothertarget.
Asliverofdisappointmentburrowedintoherchestatthethought.Shecrusheditbeforeshecould

examineitanyfurther.TherewasnowayshewasgoingtomissbeingthecenterofLance’sattention.

As Ms. Mendez wrote down their homework on the board, Melissa grabbed her backpack from

thefloor,unzippedit,andreachedinsideforherpen.

Everysinglehaironherneckstoodonendwhenacockroachscurriedoutfromthedepthsofher

backpackandupherarm,spreadingdiseasefromGodonlyknewwhere.Shestaredatit.Itstaredback
withitsbeadyeyes.

Aloudshriekburstfromherlips,andsheshookherarmtodislodgeit,flailingwildlyaroundher

seat.Thecockroachlandedonthefloor,crawlingasquicklyaspossibletohideunderthenearestshelf.

With the cockroach gone, Melissa realized that all eyes were on her. The entire classroom was

deadlysilent.

ExceptLance.
Hisshouldersshookwithsilentlaughter.
Heplannedthis.
Everydisgustingpartofit.
Theurgetolaunchherselfathimandrakehernailsalloverthatprettyfacebecamesostrongthat

shehadtogriptheedgesofherdesk.

“Areyoualright,Ms.Ortiz?”Ms.Mendezfinallybrokethesilence.
IfshewantedthiswholethingwithLancetobeover,Melissaknewtherightthingtodowasto

avoidmakingabigfuss.Sheshouldnodandsay,yes,shewasperfectlyfine.Nopermanentdamagedone.
Then, the two of them could forget about the brief period they decided to make each other’s lives as
miserableaspossible.

Screwdoingtherightthing.
Knowing that Lance was eagerly awaiting her answer, she put on her brightest expression. “I’m

okay,Ms.Mendez.IwasjustsurprisedwhenoneofLance’srelativescrawledoutofmybag.”

***
Jace pushed open the doors of the 7-Eleven the same way another person would’ve stuck their

handinsideagarbagecanoverflowingwithrottencabbages.Hisnosewrinkledindistaste,especiallyat
thesightofthegroupofsweatyboysinjerseyshortsandflipflopsjokingaroundbythecashregister.

Lancewasnotfarbehindhim.However,unlikeJace,hesurveyedtheplacewithcuriosityinhis

eyes.Whenheinhaled,thescentofcheapbrewedcoffeeassaultedhisnostrils.Brightfluorescentlights
boredownonhim.

Hehadnotplannedthisdetourontheirdrivehomefromschool,butwhenhesawthe7-Eleven,he

swerved the car and parked before he even knew what he was doing. Saying Jace was not pleased
would’vebeentheunderstatementofthecentury.

“Remindmewhatwe’redoinghereagain.”Jacestoodbythemagazinerackandpickedupanew

issuefeaturingthelatestcelebritycoupledivorce.HeraisedbotheyebrowsatLance.

Heshrugged.“IheardtheyhavegreatcolaSlurpees.”
Itwasn’tatotallie.
HehadindeedheardthatthecolaSlurpeesweredelicious,butJacedidn’tneedtoknowwhothe

sourceoftheinformationwas.Itwouldhavesnowedinhellbeforehelethisbestfriendhavethatkindof
ammunition.

Threegirlssittingonthebenchesneartheglasswalleyedthemwithinterest.Theprettiestonein

themiddlesmiledathimandtookasipofherdrink,herpinklipscurvingaroundthestrawinawaythat
suggestedalotofthings.

Aweekago,Lancewouldnothavethoughttwiceaboutwalkinguptoher,askingforhernumber,

andsavingitinhisphoneamidstthenumbersofothergirlshe’dbeensortofinterestedin.Theyfilledup
hisphonebookliketoomuchsparechangeinatinypocket.

Butthepurpleheadbandinthegirl’shairstoppedhimcold.
Melissahadonelikeit.
Unlikeher,thegirlwhostillhappenedtobestaringathimobviouslydidn’tthinkhebelongedtoa

familyofcockroaches.

Thatwassupposedtobeagoodthing,wasn’tit?
Somehow, he couldn’t quite convince himself, so he turned away and walked into the nearest

aisle.HerealizedhewassurroundedbyfeminineproductswithpinkandskybluepackagingwhenJace
snickeredbehindhim.Snatchingatinyrectanglepackageproclaimingtobeextraabsorbent,hehurleditat
Jace’shead.

Jacecaughtitwithonehand,muchtohisannoyance.“Stopbeingadick,andgogetyourSlurpee.”
Grumbling the whole time, he made his way to the cash register and paid for his Slurpee. The

experience of shoving his large cup under the machine that delivered cola-flavored goodness was a
novelty.Whenhefinallyhadatasteofthedrink,heunderstoodwhyMelissaloveditsomuch.

Itwasheavenly.
Jacewaitedforhimonthesametablethethreegirlsweresittingonearlier.WhenLancearrived,

hisbestfriendbeganwipingthealreadycleantablewithapieceoftissuefoldedintwo.

“Watching your germaphobe tendencies in action is fascinating,” Lance said, plopping down his

Slurpeeonthetable.“Tellme,doesbeingthatanalevergetexhausting?”

Inresponse,Jacepulledhisphoneoutofhisbackpocket,histhumbscrollingthroughwhatwas

probablyhisnewsfeed.“IsentMelissaafriendrequest.Ihopethat’sokay.”

Lancetookasipofhisdrinkjustthenandchokedonsomeofit.“W-what?”
“Itdoesn’treallymatterifit’sfinewithyouornot,sinceshealreadyacceptedit,”Jacecontinued,

hiseyesstillonhisphonescreen.“Didyouknowsheplaystheukulele?”

For the first time in his life, Lance who was known throughout the female population of Saint

AgnesCatholicAcademyforhisprettyfaceandsix-packfelt…unattractive.Afewdaysago,Melissahad
staredatJacelikehewasthelastcupcakeinthebox.Hewasstilltryingtosortouthowthatmadehim
feel.

No,jealouswasn’tright.
Whatthen?
Hepreferredtouse‘slightlyannoyed’todescribehisfeelings.
ForJace,however,Lancehadamorecolorfuldescriptioninmind.Whyhadn’titoccurredtohim

tosendherafriendrequesthimselfinthefirstplace?Maybebecausehe’dalwaysbeentheonedoingthe
accepting,neverthesending?Maybebecausehehadchosentodosomethingstupidlikeputacockroach
inherbackpackinstead?

Suddenly,hewasgrippedbyadesiretoseeherprofile,tofindoutifshelikedpostingfunnycat

videosormotivationalquotes.

“Givemethat.”LancesnatchedthephoneoutofJace’sgrip.
In her profile photo, Melissa stood against a yellow wall, her red dress standing out in stark

contrast. She was smiling into the camera, a real one that she’d never condescended to aim in his
direction,herhaircascadingdownhershouldersinloosewaves.Hisfingersitchedtorunthroughthose
waves,tofindoutiftheywereassoftastheylooked.

HerbirthdaywasonOctober19,acoupleofmonthsaway.Hefiledthatawayforlateruse.He

continued scrolling down her profile, realizing that he was wrong on both counts. There were no cat

videosorcheesyquotes.

Instead,itwasfilledwithvideosofukulelecoversshelikedandobviouslywantedtolearn.Ifshe

wasintoplayingtheukulelesomuch,whyhadsheneverjoinedschoolprograms?Hewaswillingtobet
shewasprettygood.

A pattern emerged as he continued looking. Some guy named Hunter kept liking her posts,

commentingwithaninsidejokehereandthere.HeopenedHunter’sprofile,andaphotoofaboyplaying
thedrumssointenselythatveinswereprotrudingonhisneckloadedonthescreen.

Knotsstartedgrowinginhisstomach.
Lance’sheadsnappedupwhenahandcoveredthescreenandpushedthephonedown.Jacewas

notthetypetogiggle,buttheexpressiononhisfacewasalmostvergingonit.

“IneverthoughtI’dseetheday,”Jacesaid,crossinghisarmsoverhischest.
“What?”
“You.”Jacepointedanaccusatoryfingerinhisdirection.“Cyberstalkingsomegirlwho’snotinto

you.Irepeat,agirlwho’snotintoyou.”

HepushedthephoneatJace’schest,almostdroppingitonthefloor.“I’mnotintoMelissaOrtiz.”
Jaceonlysmirked.“Yeah,keeptellingyourselfthat.”

ChapterSix

TherewasaspecialplaceinhellreservedforsadisticPhysicsteacherswhohadathingforpopquizzes.

Melissadesperatelywantedtobelievethat.
Still,shewasn’tgoingtoleavepassingthehellishsubjecttochance.Mr.Rodriguezhadassigned

aridiculousnumberofproblemsashomework,andsheslavedoverthemuntilshepassedoutattwoA.M.

Toreassureherself,shereachedinsideherbackpack,eagertofeelthethreepagescoveredwith

hersquigglyhandwriting.Herhandcurvedaroundtextbookspinesbutnotthosethreeimportantpages.

Her heart stopped mid-pound. There were five minutes until the official start of class, so she

grabbedherbackpackandupendeditscontentsontopofherdesk.Plastic-coveredtextbooks,notebooks
with floral covers, nail polish, and pens in various colors scattered everywhere. Her homework,
however,wasnowheretobefound.

Lance’s amusement vibrated from behind her, wrapping around her like a disgusting eel. Her

fishtailbraidflewacrossherfaceasshewhirledaroundtofacehim.

“You.”Hertonewasmenacing.
“Me,”Lancesaid,aimingathumbathimself.Thelightstreamingthroughthewindowscastahalo

around his perfectly messy hair and made him look like an angel more than ever. The sight made her
fingerscurlintoafist.

“Youtookmyhomework.”Shewasstatingafact,notaskingaquestion.
Lance raised one hand and proceeded to scratch the back of his head, the picture of innocence

withonlytheglintinhiseyesgivinghimaway.“Now,whywouldIdothat?”

“Becauseyouobviouslyweren’thuggedenoughasachild.”
Hesmirked.“Youcanhugmeallyouwanttomakeupforit.”
Forthenthtimesincethestartoftheschoolyear,Melissawantedtoclosehereyessoshecould

imaginewhatitwouldbeliketopunchhim.Shecouldalmostfeelherknucklessinkingintohisprettyface
withaloudsmack,bonethuddingagainstskin.

Itwouldbesosatisfying.
She sighed. There was no way she was going to let Mr. Rodriguez scold her for not doing her

homework,becauseLancewasinthemoodtomesswithher.Again.

Itseemedlikeaperfectlysanedecisionforhertostandupandgrabhisbackpackfromwhereit

wasperchedonthefloorbythelegsofhisdesk.

Pushing aside the thought that it might have insect inhabitants, she reached inside it, fingers

alreadyonthesearchforherhomework.

“Ifyou’relookingformyunderwear,Mel,I’msorry,butyouwon’tfinditthere.”Lancestoodup

andattemptedtonudgeheraside.

Hestoodsoclosethatshecouldsmellhiscologne,woodsywithabitofspice.Thefactthathe

smelledgoodwasgrosslyunfair.Whydidn’thesmelllikeEaudeOldGymSocksandSweatyBoy?

Shewrinkledhernoseatthecrumpledpiecesofpaperinhisbackpackandthedisorganizedmess

oftextbooksthathadn’tbeencrackedopen.“I’mnotdoingthiswithyouagain.”

Itwasthewrongthingtosay.
Perfectlyawarethattheirclassmateswerestaring,asmilecurvedthecornersofLance’smouth,

one so bright it made her want to hunt down a pair of aviators. “Don’t be so excited. We haven’t done

anythingyet.”

Thatwasthelaststraw.
Herelbowrearedbackandhithimsquareinthechest.Caughtbysurprise,Lancewobbledinthe

airforaheart-stoppingminuteandlosthisbalance,butbeforehecouldfalltothefloor,hemadeagrab
forherarm,draggingherdownwithhim.Theyfelltotheground,Melissa’sbackcollidingwithLance’s
chestandherhandsscramblingtogetaholdofsomethinginmid-air.

Fallingontopofaboywassupposedtobeaslowfreefallwitharomanticpopsongblaringinthe

background,notthisundignifiedmessoftangledlimbsandloudgrunts.Also,itwasneversupposedto
hurt,sincetheguyinquestionwassupposedtobreakyourfall.Shewasprettysureshewasgoingtohave
atleastthreebruisesbeforetheendoftheday.

Lance wasn’t done with her. His hands snaked around her arms, pulling her closer until the

warmth of his chest blasted through the fabric of his white button-down shirt. Air suddenly refused to
escapeherlungs.Onehandflewtoherheartinanattempttocalmit.

“Admitit.You’reenjoyingthis,”hewhispered,hisbreathhotagainstherear.
Heapparentlyhadnointentiontostoptouchingher.
Foronecrazysecond,shedidn’twanthimto.
Intheend,Mr.Rodriguezmadethedecisionforthemboth.
“Whatisgoingonhere?”Theteacher’svoicerangfromthedoorway,joltingthembothoutofthe

moment.

Withasmuchdignityasshecouldmuster,shepulledherselfuptoastandingposition,smoothing

down the folds of her skirt, and tried to look their teacher in the eye. Behind her, Lance stood up, the
collarofhisbutton-downshirtaskewandnotcaringintheleastabouthowhelooked.

Theentireclassroomfellsilent,clearlyexpectinganotherfireworksshow.Mr.Rodriguezglared

downatthetwoofthem,hisfaceturningaviolentshadeofred.Palpableangermadehiseyebrowsstart
twitching.

“Thetwoofyou?Again?”
Melissaclearedherthroat.“Mr.Rodriguez,I…Icanexplain.”
“Idon’twanttohearyourexplanation,Ms.Ortiz,”Mr.Rodriguezcutheroffwithagruffshakeof

his head. “I’ve seen everything I need to see. What I want is, for you and Mr. Ordonez to go to the
principal’soffice.Now.”

“Please—”
“I’velostcountofthenumberoftimesthetwoofyouhaveinterruptedmyclasses.”Theteacher

moved to the front of the room and started organizing his things on top of the desk, done with the
conversation.“Iwasveryforgiving,consideringyourprevioushistoryasagoodstudent,Ms.Ortiz,butit
seemsyou’vefoundyourselfinratherbadcompany.”

Sheopenedhermouthtodefendherselfsomemore,butahandonherarmpulledherback.She

turnedaround,expectingittobeCam,buttoheruttersurprise,itwasLance.

Heshookhishead.“Let’sgo,Mel.That’senough.”
“No.Ican’tgetkickedoutofclassagain.Myfatherwon’tlikeit.”
“Mr.Rodriguezisn’tgoingtolistentoyou.”Thewordswerespokenkindly,andthatmadethings

evenworse.Lance’spitywasthelastthingsheneeded,especiallysincehewasthecauseofallthis.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She was going to have to plead her case

somewhereelse.

The walk to the principal’s office was a long one, her feet growing heavier with each step.

Colorful bulletin boards advertising different clubs swam by her in a blur. For the first time since he

asked her out, Lance kept his distance and maintained a few paces between them, almost as if he was
afraidthatshewouldsnapandattempttomurderhimwiththerainbow-shapedpinattachedtohercollar.

Oh,ifonlyshecould.
***
Melissa’sbackpackwaswhitewithpinkstrawberriesalloverit.ItwasthestrangestthingLance

hadeverseen.Hetriedtofocusonitasguiltthreatenedtoswallowhimwhole.

Hewasn’tabadguy.
Really.
Hewas—howshouldheputthis?—awork-in-progress.Sometimes,helostcontrol,didn’tknow

howtostop,andotherpeoplebecamecollateraldamage.Melissa,forexample.Thatdidn’tmeanitwas
right,buthewaslearning.Didn’tthatcountforsomething?

Itdidn’t,though,notinMelissa’seyes.
This,hissecondvisittotheprincipal’sofficeinamonth,wasboundtobemoredramaticthanthe

last,especiallywiththeaforementionedprincipal’sdaughterintow.Themansatbehindhishumungous
desk,fingersclaspedbeforehimandasternexpressiononhisface.

“Takeaseat,bothofyou.”Mr.Ortiz’sfacewasasimmovableasthesideofamountain.
Theysatdownontheleatherchairsfacingthedesk,maintainingahealthydistancefromeachother

toavoidgettingintoevenmoretrouble.Outofthecornerofhiseye,hesawMelissaplaceherbackpack
onherlap.Sheattemptedtoradiatecalmness,buttheshakingofherhandsgaveheraway.

Thelumpofguiltinhisthroatturnedintoaboulder.
Stealingherhomeworkhadn’tbeenhisbrightestidea,buthecouldn’tthinkofanotherwaytoget

herattentionthatdidn’tincludepissingheroff.Jacehadother—saner—suggestions,buttheyallvanished
the instant he saw that drummer boy’s photo online, the one who shared little inside jokes like they’d
knowneachothertheirwholelives.Hell,theyprobablydid.

Mr. Ortiz’s loud throat clearing snapped him back to the not-so-pleasant present. He braced his

armsonthedesk,hishandsstillclasped,andsaid,“IunderstandthatMr.Rodriguezcanbequitestrict.
That’s probably why I hired him.” A charming smile. “But getting kicked out of his class twice in one
month can be quite alarming, especially for someone who used to have an exemplary disciplinary
record.”HiseyesdriftedtoMelissaatthelastsentence.

“Pa,I—”Melissastarted.
Mr.Ortizheldupahandtostopher.
“Imean,Mr.Ortiz,Iswearitwon’thappenagain,”shesaid,herfacetwoshadespalerthanusual.
Lancecouldn’tbelievewhathewasseeing.Maybeyouhadtoactacertainwaywhenoneofthe

students you were punishing happened to be your own daughter, but there was something so cold, so
distant,aboutthesceneunfoldingbeforehim.

WhywouldtheprincipalevenhavethatsmilingphotoofMelissaonhisdeskifhewantedevery

personintheentireschooltoforgettheywererelated?

He decided to shake things up, see what happened when Mr. Ortiz’s carefully ordered world

stoppedspinning.Hestretchedouthislegs.Withasmilemeanttopissoffthefathersofteenagedaughters
everywhere,hesaid,“I’mafraidIcan’tmakethesamepromise,Mr.Ortiz.”

“Excuseme?”
Besidehim,Melissaturnedasstillasthebooksontheshelfbehindherfather.
“Shut.Up,”shemouthedathim.
Heshookhisheadatheralmostplayfully.
“We’reteenagerswithbloodthirstyhormones,andIcan’tguaranteethatwecancontrolourselves

around each other, especially considering how attractive we both are.” Lance made sure to keep the
lascivious grin in place as he spoke. “No offense meant, Mr. Ortiz. I merely meant to compliment your
daughter.Andmyself,ofcourse.”

Murderouswasn’tenoughtosumupthelookinMr.Ortiz’seyes.Aveinthreatenedtopoponhis

left temple, his knuckles turning white from the effort of gripping his desk. Who knew the man and his
daughterbothhadtempersundertheircalmexteriors?

“DoIsoundlikeI’mjoking,Mr.Ordonez?”theprincipalsaidinatonethatwasoddlyquiet.
For the first time since he became a student at Saint Agnes Catholic Academy, a trickle of fear

flowed down his spine in the face of an authority figure, but he attempted to smile anyway. “I wasn’t
jokingeither,Mr.Ortiz.”

A large, meaty fist slammed against the desk, making the frames on top of it shake. “Then, you

shallbepleasedtohearthatthetwoofyouwillbespendingalotoftimetogether.Weneedpeoplewho’ll
repainttheGradeOneandGradeTwoclassrooms,soyou’llsavetheschoolsomemoney.Ms.Ortizfor
threeweekends.You,ontheotherhand,willhavethepleasureofpaintingourdignifiedschool’swallsfor
sixweekendsstraight.”

Oh,shit.
Mr.Belandres,knownsimplyasCoachtomembersofthevarsitybasketballteam,wasgoingto

hunthimdown,squashhiscarcassintoaball,anduseittoshootathree-pointer.Hewasgoingtomiss
weekendpracticeforsixweeksstraight.Theycouldn’taffordthatwiththebiggesttournamentoftheyear
aroundthecorner.

Lanceknewallthat,buthestillcouldn’tstopthegrinthatstretchedhislips.“Lookingforwardto

it.”

Hewishedhismouthhadapausebutton,sohecouldwillinglyhandovertheremotetoJace.Orto

Melissa.She’dbeecstatictohavesomethinglikethatinherhands.

Itseemedimpossiblebuttheveinontheprincipal’stemplethrobbedevenmore.“Goodtohear.

We’redonefortheday,Mr.Ordonez.”HeturnedhisgazeonMelissa.“Pleasestay.”

IfthelumpinLance’sthroatwaspreviouslyaboulder,itnowreachedlunarproportions.Melissa

wouldn’tbehereifhehadn’tstolenherhomeworkinabidtogetherattention.Forthefirsttimeinavery
longtime,hewishedhecouldtakesomethingback.

True regret made standing up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, and walking out of the

principal’sofficedifficult.

Trueregret,however,didnotstophimfromstoppingbythedoortoeavesdrop,likethelowestlife

formontheplanethecouldeverimagine.

Heleanedagainstthewall,lettingthecoolnessofitseepthroughhisshirt.Asquietlyaspossible,

hisbackpacksanktothegroundbyhisfeet.

Hecouldn’theareverything,mostlythemuffledsoundsofaconversationbetweenadisappointed

father and a very pressured daughter. Sometimes, he managed to nab a word from thin air, hooking his
fingers between the syllables before they could float away for good. Words like ‘disappointment’ and
‘applyyourself.’

Lancealmostbreathedasighofrelief.Hisfathermight’veonlyacknowledgedhispresencewhen

itwasconvenient,butheatleastwasn’tforcedintoamoldneatlylabeledPerfectSon.

Astheconversationbetweenfatheranddaughtergrewlongerandlonger,hefoundhimselfsinking

tothefloor,onehandcoveringhisfaceandtheotherburiedinhishair.

Melissawasgettingthelectureofalifetime,anditwasallhisfault.
WhenthedooropenedagainandMelissawalkedout,shedidn’tseehimhuddledbythedoorway.

Her feet wearily walked a few paces before they slowed to a stop, her thin shoulders quivering as she
triedtoholdbacktears.

Lancestoodupinaflash.Whenhestartedtoopenhismouth,hewashorrifiedtorealizethatno

wordswereabouttocomeoutforthefirsttimeinhislife.Howwashesupposedtocomfortthisgirlwho
drovehimcrazywithirritationandcuriosityinequalmeasure?

Hedidn’tknowwheretostart.
Melissadidn’tgivehimachancetoexplain,toofferwordsofcomfortthatmightslowlybridge

the distance between them. She looked at him over her shoulder, her face red and splotchy, eyes still
shimmeringwithmoreunshedtears.

Thelookonherface.Itwasanarrowthroughtheheart,sinkingthroughhimandcomingoutthe

otherside.Lookingintohereyesbegantohurt.Toomuch.

“I’m not blameless in all of this, I know,” Melissa said, even her voice was tear-stained if that

madeanysense,“butplease,Lance,stayawayfromme.I’mbeggingyou.Keepyourdistance.”

“I…I…”Theapologygotlodgedinhisthroat,thewordshangingontohistonsilsfordearlife.
“Idon’tneedtohearanapologyoranythingelsefromyou,”Melissacuthimoff,hereyesslanting

to the floor. “Please stay away from me. We’ll live through weekend detentions together, but that’s it.
Whilewe’reinschool,let’spretendtheotheronedoesn’texist.I’mdone.Withthis.Witheverythingthat
hastodowithyou.”

“I’msorry.”Thewordsfinallyescapedhislips.
Hewantedtotellherthathedidn’tmeantogetherintrouble,thathedidn’tunderstandhowbigof

acontrolfreakherfatherwas,buttodosowouldbedoingheradisservice.Shedidn’tneedtohearhis
excuses.Intheend,noneofitmattered.

“LikeIsaid,youdon’tneedtoapologize.I’mnotevenangryanymore.”Melissatookastepback.

“I’mjustsoexhausted.”

Herhandsflewtothestrapsofherbackpack,holdingonwithalittletoomuchforce,whileher

eyesreachedintohimandcuthimopen.Theyrefusedtoleavethefloor,thefirehesawwheneverthey
arguedorgenerallymessedwitheachotherextinguished,notasingleemberleftbehind.

AstrangefeelingtookholdofLance’schestandrefusedtoletgo.Hecouldn’trememberwhenhe

lastwantedtotellanotherpersonthathecouldfixthings,makeeverythingallrightsoshecouldbreathea
littleeasier.

Itwasastrange,nottomentionentirelyunfamiliar,feeling.Cometothinkofit,heexperienceda

lot of those whenever he was around Melissa Ortiz. He reminded himself that she didn’t want that, or
anything,fromhim.

Lance took back the hand he had unknowingly reached out to her, to make sure her world was

rightedbackonitsaxis.Itclenchedintoafist.

Keepyourdistance,shehadwarned.
“Sure,”hesaid.“Icankeepmydistance.Notaproblem.”
Hedidn’tknowwhetherhewastryingtoconvinceher.
Orhimself.

ChapterSeven

Weekenddetention.

She was supposed to dread the words, but somehow, the right feelings refused to rise to the

surface.

Sunshinestreamedthroughthewindows,makingapooloflightbyherfeet,aslightwindruffling

thelacecurtains.Itwasalmostironicthattheweatherseemedtobecooperatingonwhatwassupposedto
betheworstdayever.

AsMelissalayinbedunderthecoversthatSaturdaymorning,shetriedtofigurethingsout.While

shemadeherbed,shepicturedhowshewasgoingtofaceLanceagainafterthatexcruciatingexchange
between them in the hallway. Running a comb roughly through her hair, she wondered how they would
endureeachother’spresenceforonewholedayunderthewatchfuleyesoftheschoolcustodian.

Washegoingtokeephisdistancefromheronceandforall?
Thepromiseitselfwasadouble-edgedsword,butshedidn’twanttoknowwhyjustyet.
When she went downstairs, the smell of freshly baked banana chocolate muffins welcomed her.

She followed the smell to the kitchen and found her mother taking out a second tray of the delicious
muffinsoutoftheoven.Thefirsttraylayonthecounter,readytoberavished.

Hermotheralwaysknewhowtomakeherfeelbetterthroughbakedgoods.Herfather,ontheother

hand, was probably in his office, thinking of more ways to make a typical teenager’s life even more
miserable.

No,shealmostshookherhead.Shewasn’tgoingtothinkthosethoughtsaboutherfather.Itwas

unkindanddisrespectful.

“Goodmorning.”Hermothershookoffafloralmitten,pickedupamuffin,andofferedittoher.

Therequisitesmilewasalreadyinplace.

“Goodmorning,Ma.”Melissapulleduponeofthetallstoolsliningthecounterandtookaseat.

Shegrabbedtheprofferedmuffin,twirlingitbetweenherhands.

“Are you ready for today?” her mother asked with a look that said she better be but was

comfortingatthesametime,theperfectexampleoftoughlove.

“Idon’thaveachoice,doI?”
Melissatoldherselfforthethousandthtimethatitwasunfairtoresentherfatherforherweekend

detention. In her heart of hearts, she knew it was her fault, but their conversation, the once Lance
overheardtoherutterhorror,wascompletelyunnecessary.

“You know your father only cares about you.” The words broke the slowly thickening silence

betweenthem.

Melissasighedandbitdownonthemuffin.“Sometimes,hecaresalittletoomuch.”
“Hecouldn’tlooktheotherwaywhenyougotkickedoutofclasstwice.Andwithaboywhohas

areputationasatroublemaker.Youcan’tblamehim,canyou?”Theirfingersmetandintertwinedonthe
counter,hermotherholdingontohertightly.Shesqueezedalittle.“ButI’lltalktohim,okay?Askhimto
lightenup.Youdon’tdeservetobepunishedbothatschoolandathome,becauseyou’retheprincipal’s
daughter.”

“You’rethebest,Ma.”Melissasquealed,pullingherhandoutofhermother’sgrasp.Shejumped

offthestooltogivehermotheragigantichug.Withtheirarmsaroundeachother,sheinhaled,lettingthe

familiarfloweryperfumeenvelopher.“WhatwouldPapaandIdowithoutyou?”

“IshuddertothinkwhatwouldhappenifIleftyoutwoaloneevenforalittlewhile.”Hermother

smiled,huggingherback.“Thehousewouldfallapart,andWorldWarIIIwouldpossiblystart.”

“Truerwordshaveneverbeenspoken.”
Shehadthebestmother,didn’tshe?Shewasn’tspoiled,justlovedbeyondbelief.
Afterscarfingdownthreebananachocolatemuffins,pancakeswithmaplesyrup,andagiantglass

ofmilk,Melissaranupthestairstogetreadyforweekenddetention.Aftertakingashower,shestoodin
frontofhercloset.

Havingnoideawhatapersonworetopaintaclassroom,shedecidedtodresslikeagirlyversion

ofthepaintersshesawonTVinshortoveralls,amintgreenT-shirtwithicecreamconesprintedallover
the white sleeves, and white Converse sneakers. Afterwards, she weaved her hair into a messy fishtail
braidandpulleditoveroneshoulder.

To her surprise, her father sat in their Honda Civic waiting for her, keys attached to an I Love

Cebukeychainalreadyintheignition.“Comeon,Mel.I’mgivingyouaridetoschool.”

Wordlessly, she slipped into the passenger’s seat and buckled her seat belt. Determined not to

speaktohimunlessabsolutelynecessary,shepulledherphoneoutofthepocketofheroverallsandputon
herearphones.Hemight’vedonethethingshedidbecausehecaredabouther,butthatdidn’tmeanshe
wasnolongerangrywithhim.

He got the message. They drove in silence, the car swiftly maneuvering through the streets of

IloiloCity.Shestaredoutthewindowastheypassedplazasfullofsweatyboysplayingbasketballand
oldhousesthatusedtobegrandalongtimeago.Everythingandeveryonewaslaidbackwithashyvibe
ofenergyunderneath.

ThecarfinallyslowedtoastopoutsideSaintAgnesCatholicAcademy.Notawordhadpassed

betweenthemduringtheentiretwenty-minuteride.

“Mel?”Hewatchedherunbuckleherseatbelt.
“Yes,Pa?”
Heclearedhisthroat,holdingonandlettinggoofthesteeringwheelasifhedidn’tquiteknow

whattodo.“Letmeknowifyouneedaridehomelater.”

There was no way she was asking her father to pick her up after he repeatedly expressed his

disappointmentinher,butshenoddedanywaytoavoidprolongingtheconversation.Shejumpedoutofthe
carandheadedfortheschoolgates,thesunbeatingdownonherandmakingherwishshehadapairof
sunglasseson.

Lanceapparentlyfelttheheataswell,apairofaviatorsperchedonhisannoyinglyperfectnose.

DressedsimplyinaredV-neckt-shirt,jeans,andblacksneakers,hestilllookedgorgeousenoughtopush
popularboybandmembersoffthecoverofateenmagazine.Hestoodbythedoorwayoftheclassroom,
handsinhispockets.

Seeingher,heopenedhismouthtospeak,anotherpickuplinereadytoburstforth,butitwasasif

hesuddenlyrememberedtheirconversationinthehallway,theonewhereheagreedthat,yes,hewould
keephisdistance.Onceandforall.Hisjawclenched.

She stood before him, wondering what to say or if she should say anything at all. Her fingers

itched to reach out and remove his sunglasses from his face, figure out what was going on behind the
lenses.

Lancedidn’tsayanything,either.Hemerelysteppedbacksoshecouldwalkthroughthedoorand

followedher.

Mr.Chua,theburlyschoolcustodianandall-aroundrepairman,alreadystoodinside.Shelvesfull

ofcolorfultextbookslinedonesideoftheroom,andcrayondrawingscoveredthewalls.Unopenedcans
ofpaintlitteredtheflooralongwitholdnewspapersstackedinacorner,creasemarksalloverthem.

“Readytogetstarted,kids?”Mr.Chuasaid.
Theybothnodded.
“Anyofyoudonealittlepaintingbefore?”heprodded.
Tohersurprise,Lanceraisedahand.“Idid.”
She barely stopped herself from gawking at him. Lean, insanely good-looking, co-captain of the

basketballteam,andabletocharmeveryfemaleheevercameincontactwith.

ThatwasLance.
So,whendidheevergetthechancetopaintwalls?
Watchinghimplacehissunglassesinsidehisbackpack,sherealizedthatshehadknownhimsince

theywereseven,butshedidn’treallyknowhim.HewalkedovertotheshelvesandwithMr.Chua’shelp,
startedhaulingthemoutoftheroom.

Itwasindeedtimeforanotherpaintjob,theoldpaintstartingtofadeandcrayonmarksallover

the walls. Once the room was free of chairs and desks, the walls clear of drawings and posters, they
beganspreadingnewspapersalloverthefloorbythewallstocatchanystraydropsofpaint.Whenthat
wasdone,shestoodinthecorner,armscrossedoverchest,withMr.Chuabyherside.Lancepriedthe
cansofpaintopenandgenerallygoteverythingready,bicepsbulgingunderthesleevesofhisthinT-shirt.

Shegulped.Nowwasnotthetimetostartoglinghimlikehewasthelastavailablesliceofher

favoritemangoicecreamcake.Infact,therewasnevergoingtobearighttimetodothat.

“Wecanstart,”Lancesaid,thefirstwordshespoketoherthatday.Well,notreally.Theywere

spokenather,hiseyesfocusedonaspotonthewalloverhershoulder.

Melissadidn’trespond,mostlybecauseshehadnoideawhattosay.Afteraskingsomeonetostay

thehellawayfromyou,howwereyousupposedtointeractwiththemlikeanormalperson?

Itwasmind-boggling.
Shestayed in placeand watched himpick up a brush.Brush in hand,Lance surveyed the room,

settledontheleftwall,andgottowork.Seeingthathehadchosenaspot,shechosethewallontheright
sideoftheroom,draggedacanofpaintovertoit,grabbedabrush,andstartedpainting.

Mr. Chua took a seat on one of the tiny chairs meant for little kids, completely dwarfing it. He

pulledouthisphone.Theexplosivesoundsofagamesoonbegantostreamfromit.

Melissatriedtoconcentrateonherworkandmakeitlookasneataspossible.Shereallydid,but

sometimesoutofthecornerofhereye,shecouldn’thelpbutsneakglancesatLance.Tohersurprise,he
seemedtobeanefficientworkerandpaintedthewallwithneat,evenstrokes.

He was determined to keep his attention on his work, and for the first time in her life, Melissa

wantedtospeaktoLanceOrdonez.

Willingly.
Withoutsomeperfectlylogicalreasoninplace,likeborrowingacalculator.
She squashed that urge and concentrated on painting the stupid wall. By hook or by crook, her

work had to look better than his. Soon, the calming motion of moving a brush across the wall began to
sootheher,andshebegantoforgetaboutLance,herfather,andalltheconfusingandpainfulfeelingsshe
associatedwithbothofthem.

Shegotsolostinthemotionsthatshealmostjumpedoutofherskinwhenahiphopsongsuddenly

started playing. Behind her, Lance had set up a mini-sound system in one corner using his phone and a
Bluetoothspeaker,notcaringatallwhathiscompanion’spreferenceinmusicmightbe.

Atfirst,shethoughtthiswasanotherofhisattemptstoannoyherandalmostglaredathim.When

hedidn’tevenlookinherdirectionandstartedpaintingagain,sherealizedshewaswrong.Apparently,
hisdaysbeingapaininherbuttwereover.

Somehow, the gratitude she was supposed to feel decided to take a vacation on some faraway

island.

Beforesheknewit,twohourshadalreadypassed.Mr.Chuastoodupfromhischairandclapped

hishandstogether.“That’senoughfortoday,kids.Youcanbothgohomeifyouwant.”

Lancebreathedahugesighofrelief,smilingatMr.Chuaandevensalutinghim.Hestartedputting

the painting materials away. Melissa couldn’t help but stare at him, at the hands that were suddenly so
capableandstrong.Shedidn’tknowwhothisLancebeforeherwas,didn’twanttoknowandwaswild
withcuriosityatthesametime.Healwaysdidthistoher.

Not knowing a thing about painting or what to do after, Melissa observed him and mirrored his

movements.Wheneverythinghadbeenputinplaceandtheycouldfinallyleave,shebusiedherselfwith
thebackpackshehadplacedinonecorneroftheroomearlier,awayfromallthepaintingbeingdone.She
wantedtoavoidanyawkwardgoodbyes.

Ormaybeshedidn’twanttogivehimachancetoignoreheragain?
Shewasn’tsurewhichone.
Melissabreathedherownsighofreliefwhensheheardhissneakeredfootstepswalkoutofthe

classroom.Itwasonlythenthatshenoticedthepaperbagfromalocalboutiquenexttoherbackpack.Her
heartsuddenlybegantoimitateasledgehammer,andsheopenedthepaperbagtoseewhatwasinside,her
palmsbeginningtosweat.

Itwasasleevelesslavenderdresswithfluffycloudsprintedalloverit.
Itwasalsothemostperfectdressinexistence,thekindofthingsheneverknewshewanted.
Isuckatapologies.Lance,saidthenotethatcamewiththedress.
Melissatoldherself,thatshewasstillnevergoingtobeoneofthegirlswhoswoonedatthesight

ofLance’sheart-stoppingsmile,atthewayhesometimescarelesslyranhishandsthroughhishair.No,
she was never going to fall for any of that, not even this dress was going to make her think he was
somethingotherthantrouble.

Meanwhile,sheblamedherwild,uncontrollableheartbeatonthepaintfumes.

ChapterEight

LancespentafewhourspickingoutthedumbdressforMelissa,hopingshe’daccepthisapologyonce
and for all. He risked Jace’s mockery when he told his best friend he couldn’t hang out on a Saturday
afternoon,sohecouldhaveenoughtimetopickitout.

Byhimself.
He’d taken things one step further by asking Julianne for help and enduring her never-ending

mockeryoverthephone.

“You’re picking out a… dress? As an apology to a girl who hates your guts?” Julianne had

managedtowheezeoutbetweenburstsoflaughter.Despiteherteasing,hissisterwasintothatartsypastel
crap,andhetrustedhertaste.

Heendedupspendinganentireafternoonjumpingfromstoretostore,takingphotosofdressesand

sendingthemtoJulianneforapproval.Whenhefoundthelavenderdresswiththewhitecloudsonit,he
knew that he shouldn’t have bothered asking her for help. The dress was perfect for Melissa. A little
whimsical,inapastelshadehe’dseenherwearbefore,andmoreover,hewantedtoseeherinit.

Hisgivingherthedressdidhaveulteriormotives.Suehim.
Butnow,he’dgivenittoherashissecondapology.Thatwasit.Theycouldmoveonandforget

abouthowheoverheardhowmuchpressureherfatherputonher.

Lancelikedthingseasy.
Simple.
Uncomplicated.
Hedidn’tneedtohangaroundMelissaandhelphercarryallthatparentalbaggage.Nothanks.
So, it was strange that his eyes darted around the cafeteria in search of her as he sat on a table

withhisfriends.HecouldvaguelyfeelJacekickinghimunderthetable,urginghimtopayattentionasone
oftheirteammatesdronedonandonaboutanotherplayerfromarivalschool.LancereturnedJace’skick
toindicatehewaspayingattention.Thetruthwas,hewasanythingbut.

When he found her, he couldn’t help sitting up a little straighter. Melissa sat three tables away

withCamandafewothergirlsfromtheirclass.Herhairwasinanotherfancybraidagain,pulledover
oneshoulder.Hewatchedhertakeasipofhersoda,grinningaroundthestrawwhenoneofherfriends
saidsomethingfunny.

Hewasfunny.
Hecouldmakeherlaughlikethat.
Ornot.
“Don’tyouagree,Lance?”Jacesaidallofasudden,forcinghimtolookaway.
LancegrinnedatJacewhowascurrentlygivinghimasuspiciouslookwithhislipspursedintoa

thinline.Heflashedtwothumbsup,pretendingtoknowwhatthey’dbeentalkingabout,andsaid,“I’m
goingtogogetsomewater.”

“Youdothat,”heheardJacegrumbleunderhisbreath.
As he stood in line near the water dispenser, he found himself standing behind Lyka, class

salutatoriana.k.a.thegirlhedumpedviainsertingabreakupnoteinthenotebookheborrowedfromher.

Evenhehadtoadmitthatwasn’thisbestmoment.Whichwaswhyitwasatotalsurprisewhen

Lykaturnedaround,flippingherlonghairoveroneshoulder,andsmiledathim,liketheyhadn’tseeneach

other in years. She was still as pretty as ever, beautiful in that overly obvious he liked. Big eyes with
thicklashes,flawlessskin,andamouththatmadehisimaginationrunwild.

“Hey,Lance,”shesaid,reachingouttograbhisarmandgivingitalittlesqueeze.
“Lyka.” Lance stared down at the place where her hand was still wrapped around his arm. She

hadprettyfingernailspaintedbabypink.Hestillfeltlikeajerkaroundher,sohecouldn’thelpbutstep
back.

Lykalaughed,alighttinklingsound.“Stillworriedaboutthenote?Don’tworry.Iforgiveyou.”
Hetriedtoreturnhersmile,buthisattemptathumorcameoutlookingsheepishinstead.“Idon’t

thinkIeverapologizedtoyouaboutthat.”

“Iforgiveyouforthat,too.”Shelethisarmgoandpushedhimlightlyontheshoulder.“Youknow,

Ithinkyouhurtmypridemorethanmyfeelings.Youwerethefirstguythateverdumpedme.I’mthinkingI
havetoreturnthefavor.”

“We’llsee,”wasallLancesaid.
His mind whirred with a thousand thoughts as his ex-girlfriend walked away. What was he

thinkingwhenheaskedMelissaOrtizout?Hecouldbe—neededtobe—withsomeonelikeLyka.Hewas
suretheywereonthesamepage,andbestofall?

BeingwithsomeonelikeLykawaseasy.Nofathershehadtotiptoearound,nodrummerboyswho

hadalifelonghistorywithher.Itwasalessonhesurelywasn’tgoingtoforgetanytimesoon.

***
Every time Melissa opened her closet, the dress stared out at her like a warning. It was as if it

was begging her to slip it over her head, feel its folds against her skin, and check her reflection in the
mirrorthathungbehindherdoor.

Itwashauntingher.
Shehadtogetoutofthehouse.
Aftertellinghermotherwhereshewasgoing,Melissa’sfeetdraggedhertothelocal7-Elevenof

theirownaccord.Asusual,sheboughtacolaSlurpee,alargeronethistime,andatinypackofcheese-
flavored Ruffles. Sitting down on one of the tables by the glass wall, she watched the cars go by, mud
splashingagainsttheirtires.

The day was downcast with gray clouds lining the sky, a sure sign of rain. She almost cursed

herselffornotbringinganumbrellawithher,butatthesametime,shelikedthatthetemperaturewasn’tas
hotasusual.Itwasawelcomechange.

“CanIjoinyou?”
ShelookedupandfoundHuntersmilingather.Today,hewasmoredressedupthanthelasttime

she’d seen him in one of his band T-shirts, dark jeans, and black Converse sneakers, like he’d been
somewhereandonlystoppedbyonhiswayhome.Hempandleatherbraceletscircledhiswrist.

Herabilitytospeaktookitssweettimetoreturntoher.Shesmiledback.“Sure.”
“Youknow,youstillowemeaukulelelesson,”Hunterremindedherashetooktheseatinfrontof

her.Withouttakinghiseyesoffher,heplacedhispurchasesonthetablebeforethem,sourcreamRuffles
andalargecupofPepsi.

“I’vebeenbusy,”sheanswered,whichwastheunderstatementoftheyearconsideringhertonof

homeworkandweekenddetention.Shesawdisappointmentflareinhiseyes,andshebecameatinybit
braver.“Butifyouhavetimenow,maybeyoucancomeoverandIcanteachyou?”

“Sure.”ThewideningofHunter’ssmilelituphisentireface.
God,heshouldn’tbethisnicewhenhelookedlikethat,likehestoletheattentionfromhisband’s

leadsingerduringeverygigandgotpantieshurledinhisface.

Shealmostcouldn’tbelievethiswastheHuntershehadknownherwholelife,theoneshealways

thoughtshewouldendupwithonewayoranother.

Then, she thought of Lance, how he’d never be caught dead sitting in a convenience store. She

shookherhead,willingthementalimageofhimsippingaSlurpeeaway.

Whentheywereabouttocrossthestreet,Huntergrabbedherarmandguidedhertotheotherside.

Thegesturewassimple,somethingagentlemanwoulddoforanygirl,butshecouldn’thelpbuthidethe
grinthattookoverherface.

Melissapushedopentherusty,redgatewhentheygottoherhouse,usheredHunterintotheliving

room, and rushed to find her mother to tell her they had a visitor. Her mother beat her to it. When she
returnedtothelivingroom,shefoundhermotherpleasantlytalkingtoHunter,aplateofcookiesandtwo
glassesoficedteaalreadyonthecoffeetableasifbymagic.

“HunterherewastellingmeabouthissisterTessa’sballetrecital,”hermothersaid,mischiefin

hereyesashergazedriftedfromhertoHunterandback.

“Ihopeit’sokaythatIinvitedhimover,”shesaid.
“Ofcourse,Mel,”hermotherreplied.“Hunter’swelcomeanytime.”Withthatsaid,shestoodup

from her perch beside him on the couch. “Anyway, I have to get back to the garden. My flowers won’t
waterthemselves.”

“Thanks,Ma,”Melissawhisperedasshewalkedby.
When she and Hunter were left alone in the living room, she beamed at him and pointed at the

stairs.“I’mgonnagogetmyukulele.”

Shedashedupthestairsandgrabbedherukulele,thoughtsfiringoffhereandthereinherbrainthe

wholetime.Hunterwashere.Inherhouse.Shealmostcouldn'tbelieveit.Ukuleleinhand,shewalked
downthestairs.

Hunterwaswhereshelefthim.Hesatonthecouchandchewedonacookie.
"Thesearereallygood,"hesaiduponcatchingsightofher.
"Baking is Mama's superpower." She sat beside him on the couch, making sure to leave some

spacebetweenthemtoavoidmakingthingsawkward.

He washed down the cookie with a gulp of iced tea. "I agree. So, are you ready to start our

lesson?"

Shenodded.
Theystarted with fourof the easiestand most common chords.That was oneof the great things

abouttheukulele.Onceyouknewafewsimplechordsandhowtofindtherightbeat,youcouldalready
playhundredsofsongs.

"Youplacethisfingerhereandthisoneoverhere."Sheguidedhisfingersalongthestrings.
Hunter was a fast learner. It didn't take long for him to learn how to play “I'm Yours” by Jason

Mraz,thefirstsongsheeverlearnedmostlybecauseitwasoneoftheeasiest.

"You'reanaturalatthis,"shesaidwithalittlelaughoncehecouldplaytheentiresongwithouther

help.

He grinned. "That's because you're a good teacher. I could teach you how to play the drums as

paymentforthislesson."

Thiswaswhatthestartofsomethingwassupposedtobelike,easyandeffortless.
Notcrazyandintense,whichwasthewayshefelteverytimeLancewasinaone-mileradius.
Whywassheeventhinkingabouthimanyway?Hunterwasrighthere,smilingdownatherlikeshe

wasthemostperfectthinghehadeverseen.

"I can't imagine myself playing the drums." She watched him strum a few more chords on the

ukulele.

"Ican."Huntersquintedatherandframedherfaceusinghishands.Thedimpleinhisleftcheek

appeared."You'dlookprettycute.Ifyou'renotconvincedyetandwanttoseesomeoneplayingthedrums
live,wehaveagigonFridaynight."

Thatwasalmosttoosmooth.
Beforeshecouldstopherself,shewonderedifothergirlshadbeenofferedthesamedrumlessons

before.Ascowlmarredherface.Hunterwasn'tLance.Infact,notwoboyscouldbefurtherapart.

Butthen,shethoughtofthedresshanginginherclosetagain,thegiftingofitsounlikeLancethatit

madeherquestioneverything.

"Mel?"Hunter'svoicebroughtherbacktothepresent,tothecouchwherehewaswaitingtohear

heranswer.

Shetriedforasmile."Sure.I'dlovetohearyouplay."
After Hunter left, Melissa sat on the couch fiddling with her ukulele. She usually loved the tiny

sounditmade,likeitwashappyallthetime,butsomethingwasofftoday.Shedidn'tknowwhatexactly,
butshewasgoingtofindoutsoonenough.

ChapterNine

Friday nights were for getting drunk with friends at Smallville, the city’s nightlife hub, and for meeting
new people. Female type of people. This Friday night in particular, Lance was going to forget about
havingtoreturntoschoolbrightandearlythenextday.Forthenextfewhours,hewasgoingtohavefun.

Infact,hewasdeterminedtohavemorefunthanusual.
Streetlights washed over him as he drove through Iloilo City’s streets. His hometown wasn’t as

exciting as Manila. It straddled the divide between a big city and a small town. Tall buildings rose up
aroundhim,butatthesametime,hewastwodegreesawayfromknowingeveryotherpersoninthecity.
Hecouldn’timagineanotherplacelikeit.

Hewas lucky enoughto find aparking space right outsidethe bar heand his teammates usually

frequentedonnightslikethis.Itwasonly10P.M.,buttheplacewaspacked.Eventhetablesoutsidewere
fullofpeople,andwaitersbreezedbyhiminahurrytodeliverdrinkorders.Heduckedaroundoneand
pushedtheglassdoorsopen.Ashewalkedinside,Jaceandtheirotherfriendswerealreadyseatedona
tablealongwithafewgirlshedidn’tknow.Notyetanyway.

“Finally.”David,oneoftheirteammates,stoodupandgrabbedachairfromavacanttableforhim

tositon.

“Iknowyoupatheticpeoplehavebeenwaitingformethiswholetime,”Lancesaidashehigh-

fivedhiswayacrossthetable.Hespreadhisarmstoindicatetheexpanseoftherowdybar.“Howyou
couldyoupossiblyenjoyyourselveswithoutme?”

“Youaresofullofshit.”Jacewavedforhimtositdown.
Deliberately, he grabbed the chair David had gotten for him and dragged it next to a pretty girl

who’d been eyeing him since the second he walked in. Lance didn’t know how to deal with Melissa’s
outrightcontempt,butthis,obviousadmiration,heknewhowtohandle.This,hewasusedto.

“Idon’tthinkwe’vemetbefore.”Hegrinnedather.
Inhishead,hecounteddownthesecondsuntilablushspreadthroughhercheeks.One,two,three.

Thereitwas.

The girl—he didn’t know her name yet—did not disappoint, her cheeks turning red as she

swiveledinherchairtofacehim.Herhairwasamassofcorkscrewcurls,andhefounditquitecute.A
butterflypendantrestedonthehollowbeneathherthroat.

“I’mJess,”shesaid.“David’scousin.”
Lancepressedahandtohischest,pretendingtobesurprised.“Well,it’sagoodthingthetwoof

youlooknothingalike.”

Shelaughed,likeitwasthefunniestthingsheeverheard.Lancewassurprisedatthereliefthat

surgedthroughhim.BeforehedecidedtobugthehelloutofMelissa,hehadneverdoubtedhisabilityto
makeagirllaugh.Asidefromhisprettyfaceandrock-hardabs,itwashisbestquality.

Buthe’dstartedtodoubtit.
Allbecausetheprincipal’sdaughter’smouthpulleddownatthecornerseverytimeshelaideyes

onhim.

Huh.
He shook the thought away. There was no space for Melissa Ortiz in his mind, especially not

tonight.HiseyesrefocusedonJess,andhelistenedtohertalkaboutherschoolandfriends.

The whole time she spoke, her eyes twinkled down at him, the slight flush never leaving her

cheeks. He let his eyes roam over her pretty face, waiting for the same excitement at meeting someone
newtospreadthroughhim.Itdidn’tcome.

He waited some more, but it still wasn’t there. The cackling electricity. The buzz the moment

beforeheaskedforhernumber.Noneofitdecidedtomakeanappearance.

Itwasn’tJess.Shewasgorgeousandbeyondnice,judgingbyhowshewaspretendinghewasn’t

zoning out of their conversation. He could see himself going out to get ice cream cake with her at that
placeinPlazuela.No,hewastheproblem.

Whenthelivebandwentupthestagetosetuptheirinstrumentsandservedasadistraction,they

werebothrelieved.Hewastoolostinhisownthoughtstopayattentiontowhatevershewassaying,and
shewasn’trudeenoughtopointitout.

“Hey,thebandmembersareourage,”Jesssaid,soundingalittletooexcited.
Lance’s eyes flicked to the stage, examining every boy on it. She was right. The last time he’d

been here, the band’s combined age could’ve been around 200, but this time, the band members were
indeedabouthisage.Giveortakeoneortwoyears.

The male lead singer who was almost prettier than all the girls in the bar. The bassist who

obviouslyspentmoretimeinthegymthanhedid,judgingbytheguy’sbulgingbiceps.Theguitaristwho
lookedmorealtarboythanrockerboy.

Andthedrummer.
JesusH.Christ,hehadseenthedrummerbeforewithhisfauxhawkandshowybandshirts.Online.

ItwasHunter,theguywhokeptlikingandcommentingonMelissa’sposts.Everydamntimesheshareda
ukulelecoveronherprofile,hewasrighttherebraggingabouthowmuchhelikedthesong,too.Asifto
rubinthattheyhadatonofthingsincommon.

Beforehecouldstophimself,Lancepushedbackhischairandstoodup,hisgazedartingaround

thebarlookingforsomeonehedidn’twanttofind.Melissacouldn’tbehere,couldshe?Godforbidthe
principal would allow such a thing, but maybe the man made exceptions for specific people, ones he
trustedlikehewouldnevertrustLance.

Hiseyesstoppedattheonlypersonwhowasdressedinbrightcolorsamidstthecrowd.Melissa

satonatablewithCam,adrinkinfrontofher.

Withouteventakingagoodlookatit,hewasprettysureitwasaShirleyTemple.Notamargarita

orarumcoke.ItcouldbenothingbutaShirleyTemple.Hedidn’tknowhoworwhy,buthewassureof
it.

She was beautiful tonight in the floral dress that was meant for Sunday mornings, not Friday

nights. He watched her wave at Hunter who stood behind his drum kit onstage. The stupid rocker boy
wavedback,smilesspreadingacrosstheirfaces.

As paralyzing pain spread through his chest, the realization slammed down on him harder than

Thor’shammer.

Images flashed in his mind. That fateful day during the beginning of the school year when he

noticed the Big Dipper moles on the back of her neck. Melissa’s outraged face after she discovered he
stuffedacockroachinherbackpack.Himeavesdroppingonherfather’sepiclectureaftertheybothgot
senttotheprincipal’soffice.

LancehadsomehowfallenforMelissaOrtiz.
Hereallylikedher.Morethanhe’deverlikedanygirl.Maybemorethanhe’deverlikeanyone.
Holyshit.
***

Melissa’sfatherhadallowedhertogotoaplacewherealcoholwasservedprovidedshedidn’t

consumeanyofit.Healsolaiddownafewgroundrules.

Firstofall,absolutelynodrinking.
Second,shehadtosticktoCamatalltimes.
Next, no boys, which meant no touching Hunter, which she was surprisingly okay with. Things

hadn’tbeenthesamebetweenthemaftertheironeandonlyukulelelesson.

Shefollowedallofherfather’srulestotheletter.That,however,didnotstophimfromcallingher

inthemiddleofHunter’sband’sfirstset.Uponthestage,Hunter’sdrumstickswereablur,veinssticking
outonhisneckandsweatseepingthroughhisT-shirt.

Obviously, her father didn’t need to know that. She stood up and tapped Cam whose eyes were

gluedtothestageontheshoulder.“Ihavetotakethis.”

Camrippedhereyesawayfromthestage.“Yourfather?”
“Yeah,youknowhowheis.”
“Sayhelloforme,”Camsaid,takingasipofherdrink.
Asshewalkedoutofthebar,Melissacouldn’thelpthesenseofreliefthatbegantotakeover.She

felthorriblyoutofplaceinside,liketheworstkindofimposter.Whathadpossessedhertothinkwearing
apinkfloraldresstoabaratnightwasagoodidea?Shewasclueless.Shedidn’tknowitbefore,but
now,thefacthadslappedherontheface.

Phoneinhand,sheheadedtowardtheparkinglotandawayfromthenoise.Gravelcrunchedunder

herwhitesandals.

“Pa?”shesaidafterswipingherthumbacrossthescreentoanswerthecall.
“I was waiting for your text update, Mel,” her father replied, his voice stern and unyielding.

Clearly,hewasinprincipalmodetonight.

Melissa pulled the phone away from her face so he wouldn’t hear her sigh. She’d told him she

wouldthinkaboutthehourlytextupdates,butshehadn’tagreedtothem.Notinsomanywordsanyway.

“I’msorry,”shestarted,pinchinghernosebetweentwofingers,“Iwashavingfun…”
…ifI’mevenallowedtodothat.
“HasHunterbeentreatingyouwell?”hepressed,lettinghersarcasmgoforonce.
“He’sgreat.”Andshemeantit.
“YouknowIonlyagreedtothis,becauseIknowhimsowell,”herfathercontinued,likeshehad

nothingelsetodobutlistentohimgoonandon.“Despitehisextracurricularactivities,he’sstilloneof
thetopstudentsathisschool.Thatboyknowshowtomanagehistime,somethingyoucouldlearnfrom.”

Melissabarelystoppedherselffromrollinghereyes.Ifshewerebeinghonestwithherself,she

sometimeswishedHunterdidn’thaveherfather’sapproval.Itwasdifficulttoearn,buthishavingitmade
herfeellikeherfatherstillhadthisholdoverherchoices.

LikeshelikedHunterbecauseherfatherapprovedofhim.
Thatcouldn’tbefurtherfromthetruth.
Couldit?
Whenherfatherstoppedspeakingtotakeadeepbreath,sheseizedtheopportunitybythethroat.

“Listen,Pa,Ireallyhavetogetbackinside.I’lltextyouwithinthehour,okay?Byeeeee.”

Shehungupand,victoriousgrininplace,turnedaround.
Lancestoodafewfeetaway,handsinthepocketsofhisdarkjeans.Helookedlikeshe’dhanded

himaPhysicsquiz,andhehadnoideawheretoevenstart.Eyesstillonher,herubbedahandagainstthe
backofhisneck.

Silence rose up between them, awkward and far-reaching. What was she going to say to him?

Aftertellinghimtokeephisdistanceandreceivingthatdress,shehadnoideahowtoproceed.

Shedecidedtobepoliteandsaid,“Thanksforthedress,Lance.”
“You’rewelcome,”hesaid,hiseyeslockedonher.
Sheknewsheshouldleaveandwalkpasthim,butherfeetstayedrootedtothespot.Helooked

differenttonight.Older.Underthedimlightsoftheparkinglot,thescaronhiseyebrowstoodoutinstark
contrastagainsttherestofhisface.

Andthen,hemoved,takinglongstridesuntiltheirfeetwerealmosttouching.Herbrainscrambled

foraresponse,andshefoundherselftakingastepback.Hematchedeachstepofherswithhisownuntil
shewasbackedagainstthebumperofacar,thelicenseplatediggingintothebacksofherthighs.

“Whatare you doing?”she said, hervoice a little breathy.She couldn’t helpit. He placed both

handsonthecaroneithersideofher,cagingherin.Theyweretoocloseandnotcloseenoughatthesame
time.Itwasmorethanenoughtomakeanyonealittlebreathy.

Heopenedhismouthtospeak,butnowordscameout.Shealmostlaughedinhisface.Forthefirst

timesinceshemethim,LanceOrdonezwasspeechless.Itwasnothingshortofamiracle.

Whenhespoke,though,itwasherturntobecomeutterlyspeechless.
“Youhateme.”Wonderfilledhisvoice.“Everytimeyouseemyfaceinclass,youfeeltheneedto

punchme.You’renotpretending.Notevenalittlebit.”

Thistime,shedidlaughinhisface.Shepushedagainsthisshoulder,butherhandendedupcurled

arounditinstead.Asifsheneededtoholdontosomething.“Whydoyousoundsosurprised?Weboth
knewthatalready.”

Helookedaway,andhelaughedinawaythatsaidhedidn’tfindthingsfunnyatall.“Well,I’m

abouttotellyousomethingwebothdidn’tknow.”

“What?”Shecouldn’thelpbutask.
Whenhiseyesflickedbacktoher,Melissagulped.Thewayhewasstaringdownather,likehe

wasafraidshe’dvanishinapuffofsmoke,madeherblush.Shecursedherselfforit.

“I… I think I like you,” Lance said, sounding like he didn’t even believe it himself. “Even if I

know you’d laugh before helping me if I ever tripped. Even after you superglued me to my chair.” He
brushedahandoverhisface,laughingthroughhisfingers.“Well,shit,IguessthatmeansImustlikeyoua
lot.”

Wait.What?
Shewasn’tdumb.Shehadsensedthathewasinterestedinher,buthesoundedlikeactualfeelings

were involved. And he sounded so surprised by them that she didn’t know whether to be flattered or
insulted.

Sherakedhereyesoverhisface.Shehadseenhimalmosteverydayatschool,butthiswasthe

firsttimethatshereallysawhim.

ThewayhisbicepsbunchedunderthesleevesofhisT-shirt.Andthewayhesuckedinhislower

lipwhenhewasabouttokisssomeone.

Becausethatwaswhathewasabouttodo.
Hewasgoingtokissher.
Herlimbsturnedtoliquidasheleaneddown,andshewonderedifallherbodypartswerestillin

place.Probablynot.

Beforetheirlipscouldmeet,though,shepushedagainsthimandslidunderhisarm.Theparking

lot seemed to shrink in the seconds that followed as she tried to put as much distance between them as
possible.

Hecouldn’tbeserious.Never.

Handsshaking,shestuffedherphoneinsideherpurseandfacedhim,attemptingtomusterasmuch

dignityaspossible.“Youmustbedrunk.”

“I’mstonecoldsober,”hesaid,staringdownatthespacewhereshe’dbeenonlymomentsbefore.
Howcouldsheanswerthat?
Sheturnedaroundwithahuffandheadedforthebar’sglassdoors.Sheheardhimlaughbehind

her,tryingtogethertocomeback.Whenhedidn’tgetaresponse,hecuppedhishandsaroundhismouth
andsaid,“AndI’mstonecoldserious!Ireallylikeyou,Mel.Seeyouatdetentiontomorrow.”

ChapterTen

Melissa walked toward the second classroom they were painting that Saturday, not knowing what to
expectorwhattodo.

Howdidonereacttoapossiblydrunkenconfessioninabarparkinglot?
Forstarters,onedidnotpanic.
Also,onedidnotstartreferringtooneselfasone.
Shewasdrivingherselfcrazy,goingoverandoverwhathappenedincircles.
Uponreachingthehallwaythatledtotheclassroom,herfeetskidtoahalt,almostasifgluedto

thefloor.

Someonehadalreadyhauledthedeskandshelvesoutoftheclassroom,clutteringthehallway.It

wasLance,sheknew,buttheyweresupposedtodividetheworkequally.Herstepsquickeningwitheach
second,sherantowardtheclassroomandstoppedinthedoorway.

Hestoodinthecenteroftheclassroom,surveyinghissurroundings.Hereyeswandereddownand

tookinthewayhiswhiteV-neckT-shirthuggedhistorso.Allthatbasketballpracticehaddonetheboy
good.Helookedsohotitwasawonderhisjeansdidn’tcatchfire.

She, on the other hand, had agonized over her outfit for longer than necessary. She wanted

something that made her look good but not like she was trying, you know? Her white floral blouse and
pinkdenimshortswerealmostthere,andshe’dwovenherhairintoamilkmaidbraid.Thehairstylemade
herlookcuterthannormal,butitwasalsosomethinghe’dalreadyseen.

Lancehadstrippedthewallsbareofpostersanddrawings,sweptthefloorclean,andunfolded

andspreadnewspapersoverthefloor.

Wasitallforher?
Shewouldn’tdarevoicethequestionoutloud.
When he caught sight of her, he stopped, his hands on his hips. They stared at each other for a

tensetenseconds.

Scenesfromlastnightroseoutofthinairandenvelopedthem.Hisfacesoclosetohersthatshe

could feel his warm breath. His hands on either side of her waist as he crowded her against some
stranger’scar.

“I…IthinkIlikeyou,”hebreathedout.
Suddenly,breathingbecamealittleharder.Sheblinkedtheimagesaway.
“Goodmorning,”hesaid,soundingunsure.
Sheclearedherthroatandpulledthecollarofherblouseawayfromherneck.“Goodmorning.”
Outside,themorningairwasslowlytransitioningfromcooltohotashell.Sheblameditforher

sweatypalms.

A tiny explosion broke the tension between them. Mr. Chua sat in a corner like last week, his

thumbstappingawayonagameonhisphonewhereapparentlyalotofthingswerebeingblownup.The
soundofexplosionsfollowedoneafteranother.

HereyessnappedbacktoLanceandfoundhimstillstaringather.Shesuddenlyfeltchildishinher

stupid milkmaid braid and floral shirt. Sure a blush was spreading across her cheeks, she said, “We
shouldgetstarted.”

Without waiting for his response, she walked over to the wall on the left corner of the room,

picked up a brush, and dipped it in paint. She began her work, trying to ignore the presence of the boy
behindherthewholetime.

Herbrushstoppedinmid-airwhentheukuleleversionofanindiesongshelovedstartedplaying.

Sheturnedaroundandfoundhiminnocentlypaintinghisowncorneroftheroom,hisBluetoothspeakers
andphoneconnectedtoanelectricalsocket.

Her heart began to seesaw back and forth. As the chorus played, the lyrics about how love

blossomedbetweentwopeoplewhoneverexpectedit,heglancedatheroverhisshoulder.

Shenarrowedhereyesathim,pretendingherheartdidn’tneedastraitjacketatthatverymoment.
Hegrinnedinresponse,thatperfectgrinthatlituphiswholeface.
Then,hewinkedather.
Theblushthatspreadacrossherfaceearlierreturnedinthespeedoflight.Shewhippedaroundto

facethewallagain,sohewouldn’tseeherreaction.

Thisdidn’tmakeanysense.HewasLanceOrdonez,theboywho’dplacedacockroachinherbag.
Hemight’vesaidhehadfeelingsforher,buthewasn’tevenhertype.
Honestly.
Whenanotherukulelecoverstartedplaying,shecouldnolongertellherselfitwasacoincidence.

Shedidn’tknowhow,buthe’dmostcertainlydiscoveredherlovefortheukulele.Thistime,however,she
resistedtheurgetoturnaroundandstareathim.

Fortwowholeminutes.
She pretended to stretch her arms, paintbrush still in one hand, and as slowly as possible,

swiveledhernecktolookathim,wishingherhairwasdownsoshecouldhidebehindit.

Lancestaredbackather.Thecornersofhismouthtiltedup,holdingbackalaugh.
Shewassobusted.
Itwashisfaultforbeingtoopretty.
Inadditiontothehumiliationofgettingcaughtcheckinghimout,twodropsofpaintdrippeddown

fromthepaintbrushshestillheldoverheadandmadetwobrightspotsonhershirt.Shesighed.

ThiswaswhatshegotforoglingLancelikehewasthepairofpinksneakersshewantedtoorder

onlineafewdaysago.Limitededitionandalmosttoocute.

Feelingalittleangryatherself,shestartedpaintingthewallagainwithmoreforcethannecessary,

herbrushscrapingagainstthesurface.Shewastheonewhoaskedhimtostayaway.Ignoringhimshould
beeasy.Againandagain,shetoldherselfthosethings,realizingthatshebelievedherselflesseverytime.

Melissa continued to attack the wall until she felt his presence behind her. Without saying

anything,Lanceplacedaplasticbagbyherfeetandmovedback.Shelookeddownandalmostsworeher
visionwasblurrywhenshesawthatitcontainedaSlurpee,herultimate7-Elevenaddiction.

Shedroppedthepaintbrushonthenewspaper-coveredfloorandbentdowntoretrievetheplastic

bag.Moisturehadalreadyspreadaroundit.Shetookasip.Itwascola-flavored.

Heremembered.
DuringtheEconomicsclassthatnowfeltlikealifetimeago,shehadbabbledonandonaboutthe

thingsshespenthermoneyon—thecutesypasteldresses,thatonefloralswimsuitshehadbeenunableto
resist, and most of all, cola Slurpees. He had listened to her and thought the things she said were
importantenoughtoremember.

Itwasunbelievablysweet.
AndsounlikeLance.
The thought dawned on Melissa that maybe she’d been wrong about him. It made the delicious

Slurpeetastelikeashinhermouth.Shewishedshecouldreadhismind,soshecouldfigureoutwhatwas

goingoninthatheadofhis.

Melissacouldbarelypaintthestupidwallafterthat,butshetriedanyway,paintbrushinonehand

andSlurpeeintheother.

After asking someone to stay away, how did you thank them for the kindest of gestures? After a

boytoldyouhelikedyouandyoudidn’tquiteknowhowtofeelinresponse,whatwereyousupposedto
do?

Shedidn’tthinkshehadthegutstowalkuptohimandsay…thanks.Thatsimplemonosyllabic

word.

By the time their second hour in the classroom rolled around, the sounds emanating from Mr.

Chua’sphonestopped.Heplacedhisphoneinhispocketandstoodup.“Okay,kids,time’sup.Youcan
bothgohomenow.”

He surveyed their work one more time, eyeing if it was good enough or if they’d have to

eventuallybringinprofessionals.Satisfied,hewavedatthemandwalkedoutthedoor.

Melissa remained in her side of the room, clutching the paintbrush like her life depended on it.

Lance, on the other hand, began putting things away. She watched him roll up the newspapers, stacking
themforthejanitorstopickupandthrowaway.

She was supposed to mirror his movements and get to work, but as the silence between them

stretchedlongerandlonger,shebegantogetangry.NotatLancebutatherself.

Whyshecouldn’tdosomethingsosimplelikethankhimforlisteningtoher,forthinkingshewas

significant enough to listen to? It was supposed to be easy. Her grip on the paintbrush tightened, her
knucklesturningwhitefromtheeffort.

Melissadidn’twanttobethisgirlanymore,theonewhowasscaredofthankingthisbeautifulboy

whohaddonesomethingforher.

She dropped the paintbrush on the ground and crossed the few steps that brought her closer to

Lance.Hewascrouchedoverthefloor,checkingtoseeifanystraypaintdropshadfallen.Shetappedhim
ontheshoulder.

Whenhesawher,hepulledhimselfup.Itwasthenthatsherealizedshehadfailedtomeasureher

steps.Theywerealittletooclose,onlyafewinchesleftbetweentheirchests.Herheartstartedneeding
thatstraitjacketagain.

“Thankyou.”Shemayhaveconjuredthegutstotalktohimafterlastnight’sevents,butnotenough

togivehercouragetolookhimintheeyewhiledoingit.“FortheSlurpee.Andforthesongs.”

Blowing her expectations out of the water, Lance didn’t respond with anything remotely

resemblingapick-upline.Hesimplysaid,“You’rewelcome.”

Sheshould’veleftitatthat.Asmartergirlwould’veletitdrop,butshecouldn’t.Notthistime.

Thecouragetolookhimintheeyefinallydecidedtomakeanappearance.Herchinlifted,andshelooked
intotheeyesthatGradeNinegirlssworecouldmakeanyoneswoonatwill.

“Yousaidyoulikedme.Why?”shefinallyasked.“Whyme?”
Atfirst,Lancedidn’tanswer,allsignsofamusementevaporatingfromhisface.“Idon’tknow.”

Then,hetappedhistempleandsaid,“You’rejuststuckhere.”

Thefearreturned.Hewasn’tLance,theboywhoannoyedhereverychangehegot.Hewasalso

Lance,theboywhooncebrokeupwithLykaAbella,theirclasssalutatorian,inthemosthorribleofways.

Hehad a reputationfor pulling backwhen things got alittle serious. Shecouldn’t trust him. No

matterhowmuchshewastemptedtodoso.

Onefoottookastepbackandwasfollowedbytheother.“I’msorry.Ican’tdothis,Lance.Not

rightnow.Notwithyou.”

Sheturnedtoleavewithoutwaitingforhisanswer.Shegrabbedherbackpackfromthefloor,and

didn’t even bother to pull its straps over her shoulders. Before she could reach the door, his hand
wrappeditselfaroundherarmandpulledherback.Lightningfastandnotgivinganinch.

“IsthisaboutHunter?”Hestareddownather,thehauntedlookinhiseyesmadeithardtolook

away.

Sheshookherhead.
And that was the truth. No, this wasn’t about Hunter. Not anymore. It had stopped being about

HunterthesecondLancesaidthosewordshecouldn’ttakeback.

It was about the two of them. He was Lance, she was Melissa, and there was no way this was

goingtoendinanythingotherthancompletedisaster.

“What’sitaboutthen?”Lanceasked.“Ithinkyoucouldlikeme,too.Ifyougivemeachance.”
“MaybeIcould,”shesaid,“butitdoesn’tmatter.”
Herfather’sdisappointedfaceflashedinhermind.Shecouldonlyimaginewhathe’dthinkofher

goingoutwithLanceOrdonez.Hewouldfreak.AnytemptationbeingwithLancemight’veheldpaledin
comparison. Her father’s expectations were like a vise around her throat, slowly tightening. She
swallowed.

“Isthisaboutyourfather?”Lancereadhermindcorrectly.Hisfacehardened.
“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”Shewrenchedherarmoutofhisgraspandalmost

ranforthedoorway.

Surethathewasn’tgoingtofollowher,sheblindlymadeherwaytothenearestladies’roomand

sankdowntothefloor,herbackslidingagainstacubicledoor.

Shehaddonetherightthing.Shejustdidn’texpectittohurtthismuch.
***
PeoplechasedafterLance,nottheotherwayaround,butchasingpeoplewasallheseemedtobe

doinglately.

He stopped in the middle of his morning run on Iloilo River Esplanade. Pebbles flew up as his

feetskidtoahalt.Hestaredoutatthewatersurroundedbythecrookedoval-shapedpathfullofpeoplein
workout gear. An elderly couple walked past him in matching gray running shoes, and the woman gave
himasmile.Hetriedtomustertheenergytosmileback.

Hetiltedhisfaceuptothesun,sweatdrippingdownhistemples.Thiswashisfavoritetimeof

day,thehourbetweensunriseandthetimeheatmadetheentirecityfeellikeasauna.Toobadhecouldn’t
enjoyittoday.

Hegulpeddownhalfthecontentsofthewaterbottleheheldinonehandandstartedrunningagain.

His feet pounded against the pavement, but Melissa inched back into his mind with every step. He
couldn’tkeepherout.

Some people ran with music, but he never did. He thought there were too many things going on

aroundhiminthislittlecorneroftheworld,andhedidn’twanttomissit.Now,hethoughtpeoplewho
ranwithmusicblaringintheirearswereontosomething.Musicwould’vehelpedblockoutthoughtsof
her.

But his earphones were back in his car. He had no choice but to let the thoughts fill his mind,

circlinghimandwaitingfortherightmomenttoswoopin.God,herfacewhenshesaiditdidn’tmatter
whethershecouldlikehimornot.Shehadnoideahowmuchitmattered.

He’dbeenimpulsivewhenhefollowedhertotheparkinglotonFridaynightandblurtedouthow

hefeltabouther.Hehadn’tevengivenhimselftimetothinkifitwastherightthingtodo.

Whyhadhedonethat?Herubbedhisfacewiththehandnotholdingthewaterbottleinfrustration.

Hepushedtoofast.Toofar.Heknewthatnow.So,whatnext?Hedidn’thaveagoddamnclue.

He stopped again, almost colliding with the chubby woman power-walking in front of him. She

glaredathimoverhershoulderandcontinuedonherway.

“Sorry,”hemumbled.
So,what,indeed,wasnext?Melissaclearlywasn’treadytotakeariskforhim.Washesupposed

tomoveontothenextgirl?Itwaswhathewasusedto.Itwasn’tlikehe’deverconsideredotheroptions
before.

Asiftheuniverseagreedwithhim,hesawaprettygirlinayellowtanktopandblackshortsinthe

distance. Her ponytail bounced with every step. As she jogged past him, their eyes connected and she
smirked,asifsheknewwhathewasthinking.

She was his type. He could jog after her, strike up a conversation, and forget all about Melissa

Ortiz.Itwouldbesoeasy.

Itwouldalsobeimpossible.
He raked his hands through his hair in frustration. No, he couldn’t move on, not without giving

winningMelissaoverhisbestshot.Sincehedidn’tknowwhattodo,hehadtoaskforhelp.Jaceorany
ofhisteammateswouldn’tofferanyusefuladvice,sohecalledtheonepersonwhowould.

“Yes,littlebrother?”Julianne’svoicesoundedamusedovertheotherline.
How much he missed his sister hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He hadn’t seen her in

months,hadn’ttalkedtoherinalmostaweek,anditwassogoodtohearhervoice.

“Ineedyourhelp,”hesaid.
“AsifIexpectedanythingelse,”Julianneteased.
“It’saboutagirl.”
Juliannegotsoquietontheotherendthathethoughtshehaddroppedthephone.Then,shesnorted.

“Isthisthesameoneyouboughtthedressfor?”

Hementallypreparedhimselfforwhatwascomingnext.Hissisterwasgoingtohelphim,butshe

wasgoingtomakehimsufferfirst.

“Are you in luuurve?” Julianne cackled like the witch she secretly was. “Oh, you totally are.

Please,pleasetellmeshehatesyourguts.”

Heclearedhisthroat.“Shedoes.”
She might’ve been in another continent, but he could swear she was right next to him when she

howledwithlaughter.Itwasthatloud.

“Okay,spill,”shefinallysaidonceshegotcontrolofherself.
“ShethinksI’mtoomuchofaflightrisk.”
“Aren’tyou?”
“Notanymore.”
“Oh,Lance.”Thelinegotquietagain.Ithadfinallydawnedonhissisterhowimportantthiswas,

whatdependedonit.“Doessheknowthat?Ifshedoesn’t,proveittoher.”

“I’mtrying.”Hisgriponthephonetightened.
“Tryharder.”
“Okay,”wasallhesaidinresponse.
“I’mproudofyou,littlebrother.You’regrowingup.”
His sister disconnected the call, and Lance found himself standing once more in the middle of

IloiloRiverEsplanade,staringoffintothedistance.Thistime,though,hedidn’tfeellikehewasrunning
incircles.Literallyandfiguratively.Juliannewasright.

Hetookoffwithrenewedenergy.Hismindwasmadeup.

Hewasn’tgivinguponMelissaOrtiz.Notyet.

ChapterEleven

Their classroom was slowly turning into a circus. Girls whipped compact powders out of backpacks,
swipedlipglossovertheirlips,andcombedtheirhairuntilthestrandsshonetoperfection.Theirmale
classmateshuddledtogetherinonecorneroftheroom,toocluelesstoaskquestions.

Melissasatinthebackoftheroomandwatched.EvenCamwasn’timmunefromthemania.Her

bestfriendbrushedgreenapplelipglossoverherlips,swipingatthecornerswithherthumb.

“HowdoIlook?”Campuckeredherlipsforaddedeffect.
“Likeyouateaglazeddonut.”
Camnarrowedhereyes.
“It’ssupposedtobeagoodthing.”Shelaughed.
Today, Saint Agnes Catholic Academy was playing against The Partridge School, an all boys’

school known for its excellent curriculum and good-looking students. It also happened to be Hunter’s
school.Sheneededtofigureouthowshewassupposedtofeelaboutthat.

Thingshadbeenweirdbetweenthemaftersheattendedhisgig.AfterwhathappenedwithLance.
Shestillcouldn’tbelievehelikedher,thathe’dsaidthewordsoutloud.Shedidn’tknowhowto

feelaboutthat,either.

“You’re being weird again.” Cam crumpled a piece of tissue paper she had used to wipe off

excessblushearlierandhurleditinherdirection.Itbouncedagainsthernoseandfelltothefloor.

ThewordswereonthetipofMelissa’stongue,andshecouldn’tstopthemanymore.“Lancetold

mehowhefeelsaboutme.”

Cam’sjawdroppedopen,butshesnappeditshutinaninstant.“Iknewit.Isoknewit.Whendid

thishappen?”

“He was at the bar on Friday night. He followed me to the parking lot when Papa called and

just…”Shemimedsomeonevomiting.

Ifsheclosedhereyes,shecouldbringherselfbacktothatSaturday,seehowhelookedwhenhe

told her she was stuck in his mind. Once she opened her eyes, though, the way she practically fled the
roomwastheonethingthatstoodout.

Ifhecalledheracoward,shecouldn’tblamehim.
“And?”Cambumpedshoulderswithher.
“Nothinghappened.”Sheshrugged,pretendingtheweightoftheweekenddidn’tbotherher.
“That’sit?”
“Is there supposed to be something more?” Her fingers found their way to the elastic band that

heldherfishtailbraidtogetherandtugged.Shestartedbraidingthestrandsagain.“Imean,he’sLance.We
allknowhedoesn’tstickwithgirlsforverylong,andmyfatherknowsallabouthisreputation.Itwould
neverwork.”

“Oh,Mel.Yourfathershouldn’thaveanythingtodowithwhetheryoulikeLanceornot.”Cam’s

voice managed to convey disappointment, pity, and encouragement all at once. Something only a best
friendcoulddo.

“Iknowthat,”shesaid,herfingerscontinuingtheirmovement,“butIdon’tbelieveityet.”
Camreachedouttokeepherstill.“Butdoyoulikehim?”
Thatwasthequestionthatkeptherupallweekend.DidshelikeLance?Therewasapartofher

thattoldhershedidn’tknowhimwellenoughtolikehim,buttherewasanotherpartthatwantedtojump
inandgetitsfeetwet.

Sheloopedtheelasticaroundtheendofherbraidandlookeddownatherhands.Herfingernails

werepaintedabrightyellow.Therewasachiponherrightpointerfinger.

“Idon’tknow.”Itwasthebestanswershehad.
Thewalktotheindoorgymdidn’ttakelong.Whentheygotthere,theyfoundtheentranceblocked

by lines of students from The Partridge School, a bunch of boys in white button-down shirts and black
slacks.

Mostofthegirlsinherclassstoodontheirtoestogetabetterlookattheboys,whiletheresttried

topushtheirwayinside.Shecouldn’thelpbutjoininatthesametimeCamheldontoonhershoulderto
pushherselfup.

Oneoftheboysbrokeawayfromthemassofwhiteshirtsandblackslacks.Hunterheadedinher

directionandwaved.Shewavedback,notknowingwhattosayoncetheyfinallystoodinfrontofeach
other.Shesteppedawayfromherclassmatesandmethiminthemiddleofthechaos.

Itwasherfirsttimeseeinghiminhisschooluniform,andhelookeddifferent,youngerandalittle

less confident. She almost expected the same drumsticks to stick out of his back pocket, but earphones
dangledfromtheminstead.

“Hey,”hesaid,smilingather.
“Heretoseethegame?”Dumbquestion.Ofcoursehewas.
“Yeah.” Hunter stuffed his hands into his pockets. “We even have bets going on who’s going to

win. Some of my friends say there’s this Ordonez guy who’s really good, so our school’s chances of
winningareslim.Youknowhim?”

Melissa’sthroatwentdry.Shenodded.“Ido.”
“Ishethatgood?”Hunterwasstillsmiling.Hereachedoutasiftotouchhercheek.
Whenshecaughthishandinmid-air,sherealizedshehadmadeherchoice.Shedidn’tknowwhat

shewaschoosing,butitwasn’tHunter.Itwasfunny,becauseapartofherhadalwaysthoughtshe’dend
upwithhim.Someday,somehow.

Theirparentswerethebestoffriends,andtheyhadknowneachothertheirwholelives.Itwasthe

perfectlovestory.Itjustwasn’thers.

Hunter’ssmilefaded,andhelookeddownattheplacewhereherhandgraspedhis.“Iguessthat’s

anoonthedrumlessons?”

“I guess it is.” Like the coward she was, she glanced at Cam over her shoulder. “My friend’s

waitingforme.Ishouldgetback.”

“Ishould,too.”Hunteraimedathumbathisclassmateswhowerefilingintothegym.“Bye.”
He walked away, his shoulders slumped and his steps slower than usual. They were never

official.Hehadneverevensaidthathelikedheroutright.

Thosereasons,however,didn’tstopherfromfeelingguilty.Herfingersitchedtoundoherbraid

andweavethestrandsagainintosomething,tofindcomfortinthemovement.

Cam’shandfeltheavyonhershoulder.“Mel?Weshouldgoinside.”
Her feet refused to cooperate and demanded to stay where they were, so Cam had to drag her

insidethegym.Theyclimbedupthebleachers,andafewoftheirclassmatesinchedalongthebenchto
makeroomforthem.

A buzzer signaled the start of the game, and the players walked into the court. Lance and Jace

followedthethreeothermembersofthestartinglineup.Likealways,herbreathcaughtinherthroatwhen
shesawhim.Hewasserioustoday,nosignoftheboywhostoleherhomework.

Theplayerseyedeachotherwarily.LanceandthebiggestPartridgeplayershookhandssotightly

shecouldalmostheartheirbonescracking.Theygloweredateachotherthewholetime.Alowhumof
cheeringthrobbedthroughoutthecrowd.

Whentheplayerswereallinposition,therefereehurledtheballintotheair.Jacelungedforit,

bothofhishandsslammingaroundit,andthrewitatLancewhoimmediatelyjumpedintotheairandlet
theballslipfromhisfingers.

Hisbodyarchedintoacurve.Theballsailedthroughtheairandshotthroughthebasket.
Thecrowderuptedintocheers.
“Go,SACA!Go,SACA!”studentscheeredalloverthegym.
“LanceOrdonez!LanceOrdonez!”shriekedanumberofgirlsbehindher.“LanceOrdonez!”
“Thatwasawesome!”Camshrieked.Adreamylookstoleoverherface.“JaceHernandezhasthe

mostbeautifulhands.Imaginewhattheycoulddotoagirl.”

Melissaknewherbestfriendwasstilltalking.Shewantedtostopandlisten,butshewassolely

focusedontheboystandinginthemiddleofthebasketballcourt,lettingtheotherplayersrunpasthim.
Hiseyesscannedthecrowd,rowafterrow.

Whentheireyesmet,agrinsopowerfultookoverhisfacethatshealmostsworeitknockedher

offherfeet.

His eyes never leaving hers, Lance pointed at the number on his red jersey. 19. It took a few

secondsforthepiecestoclickintoplace,butoncetheydid,shecouldn’tstopthegrinthattookoverher
ownface.Itwasherbirthday.

Hewastellingherthisgamewasforher.Hewastellingherhewasn’tgivingup.Hewasgoingto

fightforher.

From her place up in the bleachers, she wasn’t sure he could see her response, but she nodded

anyway,asimplemovementofherheadthatcausedhisgrintogofrombrighttotranslucent.

Yes,shesaidwiththatonenod.I’mrighthere.
***
Itrainedafewhoursafterthegameended.Lancestoodinthemiddleoftheparkinglotinhisred-

and-whitevarsityjacket,lettingtheraindropssoakhisfaceandhair.Theywonthegame,beatingoutthe
competitionbyadifferenceofmorethantwentypoints,butwinningwasn’tonhismind.

ItwasMelissa’snod,theliftingandbobbingofherchinthatbecameeverything.Sheunderstood

whathemeant,andshenodded.Whatdidthatevenmean?

“Hey, dickhead, you’re getting soaked!” Jace stood by his own car, a black Nissan he kept in

pristinecondition.

“Ihadn’tnoticed.”Lancepulledhiscardooropenwithasmile,gotinside,andstuckhiskeysin

theignition.Theenginecametolifewithapurr.

Hemaneuveredthecaroutoftheschoolparkinglotandintothestreet.Studentsflankedbothsides

ofthecarinahurrytogethome.

Some walked calmly with open umbrellas, while others ran with notebooks over their heads

servingastheironlyprotectionfromtherain.Lanceknewhewaslucky.Theonlythinghehadtoworry
aboutgettinghomeinthisweatherwashowquicklythewipersswipedattheraindropsonhiswindshield.

HisluckgrewtenfoldwhenhesawMelissaandCamhuddledunderanearbydrugstore’sawning.

If this were one of his other classmates, this would’ve been easy. He would’ve pulled over, offered a
ride,andthepersonwouldmostlikelygetintohiscarwithoutquestioninghismotives.

ThiswasMelissa,though,andthingswerenevereasywithher.Now,hedidn’twanttoseemlike

thedumbjockwhoofferedrideshometoshowoffhiscar.

Buthedidn’twanthertogetsoakedintherain,either,sohepulledover.Hejumpedoutofthecar

andstoodinfrontofbothgirls,lettingtherainpelthim.“Hi.”

Standingundertheawning,herhairamessytangleofknots,andraindropsonhereyelashes,Lance

thoughtMelissahadneverlookedmorebeautiful.Somethingtightenedinhischestatthesightofher,and
evenifhewasonlyeighteen,apartofhimsaidthiswasit.Nooneelsewasevergoingtomakehimfeel
thisway.

“Hi,”Melissasaid.
“CanIgiveyouguysaridehome?”Heshookhisheadathimselfforsoundinglikethedumbjock

hewarnedhimselfagainstbeing.

NexttoMelissa,Cammuttered,“Ifyousayno,Mel,Idon’tknowwhatI’lldotoyou,Iswear.”

Wethairclungtothesidesofherface.

Lance couldn’t help but smirk. His eyes drifted back to Melissa. “Looks like you don’t have a

choice.”

“LookslikeIdon’t,”shereplied,nottakinghereyesoffhim.
Beforehecouldpullthedooropenlikeagentleman,Camdoveforthebackseat.HeandMelissa

wereleftoglingeachotherintherain.Ittookhimafewsecondstorecoverenoughtofinallypullthedoor
openforherlikeanormalperson.

He helped her in, his hand making contact with the small of her back. The touch zapped him

awake.Hefeltfullyaliveforthefirsttimeinmonths,anditwasallherdoing.

Lance shut the door and got in the car. When he was firmly seated and they were moving once

again,hecouldn’thelpbutkeepglancingather.Thiswholethingfeltlikeadream.Shewashere.Inthe
passengerseatofhiscar.Unbelievable.

“Idon’tknowaboutyouguys,butI’mbeat,”Campipedupfromthebackseat.ShetappedLance

ontheshoulder.“Isitokayifyoudrivemehomefirst?”

He had never spoken to her much until then, but Lance silently said a prayer of thanks for the

existence of a certain Cam Velasco. He was going to get some time alone with Melissa, and it was all
becauseofherbestfriend.Maybethatmeantsomething.

“Sure.”Heshrugged,keepinghishandssteadyonthewheeleveniftheyfeltlikeshaking.
Theymovedthroughtherushhourtrafficinsilence.Theraindidn’tstop,makingthethirty-minute

longdrivetoCam’shouselongerthanusual.Commutingwould’vebeenanightmareinthisweather.He
couldn’timaginewhatitmust’vebeenlikeforMelissa.Ifsheagreed,hewantedtodriveherhomeevery
singleday.

Ifsheagreed.
Thatwastheproblem.
“To the left, please,” Cam instructed as he drove inside a subdivision full of similar-looking

homes.

Hefollowedherdirectionsuntilthecarstoppedinfrontofabluehousewithwhiteshuttersanda

swingonthefrontporch.BeforeCamhoppedoutofthecar,sheswungherbackpackoverhershoulders.
Itwasonlythenthathenoticedthecamerabagdanglingfromherneck.

HerfacesuddenlypoppedupbetweentheseatsheandMelissaoccupied.“I’monlyleavingyou

alonewithmybestfriend,becauseIcantellhowmuchyoulikeher.Ifyouhurther,though,keepinmind
thatIwillnothesitatetohuntyoudownandbludgeonyoutodeathwithmycamera.Understood?”

“Understood.”
“Bye,Mel.”Camgaveheraquickpeckonthecheckandhoppedoutofthecar.
“Bye,Cam.”

They were finally left blissfully alone. Melissa’s face couldn’t have been any redder. He was

abouttodriveawaywhenthebackseatdooropenedagain.Camagain.Sheaimedafingerathim.“I’m
serious.Aboutthecameraandthebludgeoning.”

Without letting him respond, Cam slammed the door shut and entered the house. They were left

aloneagain.Forreal,thistime.

“Tellmewheretogo.”Lancewasn’tonlytalkingaboutdrivingdirections,andhecouldtellshe

knewthat.

Theystilldroveinsilence,theawkwardkindthatmushroomedbetweenthemandcouldbesliced

inhalf.Afterafewminutes,hecouldn’ttakeitanymore.Hehopedshewouldn’thatehimforthis.

Hegrabbedhisphonefromthedashboardandhandedittoher.Surprised,shetookit,cradlingit

betweenherhands.

“There’ssomethingwrongwithmyphone.”Hetriedtokeephiseyesontheroadahead,hisface

straight.

“What?”Acrinkleformedbetweenherbrows.
“Itdoesn’thaveyournumberinit.”
Hetookthechancetoglanceoverather.Therewasasecondwhereshelookedlikeshewantedto

chuckthephoneathishead,butshesnorted.Alaughbubbledupfromherthroatuntilshewaslaughingso
hard she had to clutch the door handle for support. Her laughter was infectious, and soon, he was
laughing,too.

“That was bad,” Melissa said, still wheezing. She smiled at him. “But I have one that’s even

worse.”

God,thisgirl.
Sherippedhisheartopenwithhersmilesandsarcasm,burrowedintoit,andrefusedtoleave.
“Okay,hitme.”
Melissaleanedback,makingherselfcomfortable.Aslightsmilestillonherlips,shesaid,“Are

youafart?”

Hepretendedtoglareatherinresponse.
“Areyouafart?”sherepeated.
“Why?”
“Becauseyoublowmeaway.”Shelaughedsomuchshecouldbarelygetthewordsout.
Therestofthedrivewentlikethat.Theytradedpick-uplines,eachonemoreridiculousthanthe

last.Shegavehimdirectionsinbetweenburstsoflaughter.

Lancecouldn’tgetenough.Ofher.Ofthestupidpick-uplines.Oftherainthatgrantedthemthis

shortamountoftimetogether.

Hedidn’tknowwhereshelived,buthecouldn’thelpbutbepuzzledwhensheaskedhimtopull

overinfrontofavacantlot.

“CorrectmeifI’mwrong,butIdon’tthinkyoulivehere,”hesaid,swivelinghisheadaroundto

takeinthewaterbottlesandassortedtrashthatfilledthevacantlot.

“I…Icanwalkfromhere.”Melissafocusedontakingoffherseatbeltlikeitwasthemostdifficult

thingintheworld.“Myfathercan’tknowyoudrovemehome.”

Hisgriponthesteeringwheeltightened.“Iunderstand.”
Butdidhereally?Hewasn’tsure.
Hewasonlysureofonething.Hewantedher,andifthatmeanthidingfromherfatherforalittle

whilelonger,hecouldlivewiththat.

“Go out with me. Please.” Lance didn’t have the guts to say the words until her hands were

alreadypushingthedooropen.

“Thanksfordrivingmehome,Lance,”wasallshesaidbeforeslammingthedoorshut.
Hewatchedherwalkawayuntilsheturnedacornerandhecouldn’tseeheranymore.Whenhis

phonebeepedwithamessage,hebarelyhadtheenergytopickitup.Themessagewasfromanunknown
number.Heswipedatthescreensohecouldreadit.

Ifixedyourphone.

ChapterTwelve

According to Cam, the best way to avoid getting caught lying was to stick as closely to the truth as
possible.

Dinneratafancybistroknownforitschickenwings.Alatemovie,aromanticcomedyMelissa

had already seen so she’d be more comfortable. Maybe a cup of peppermint-infused coffee at a café
afterwards.Thatwashercoverstory.

It was also the truth. The only difference was, she was with Lance, not Cam. Her best friend

steppeduptotheplate,agreeingtocoverforherincaseherfathercalled.

Everythingwasset.
Melissastaredatherreflectioninthemirror.Shesmootheddownthefoldsofthelavenderdress

Lancehadgivenherasanapologyforthenthtime.Wasshereadyforthis?Anactualhonest-to-goodness
datewithLance?Sheranherfingersthroughthehairshe’dpainstakinglycurledintowavesearlier,the
strandsheldbackbyawhiteheadbandthatmatchedthecloudsonherdress.

Herphonevibratedwhereshe’dleftitonherdeskearlier.I’mhere.
Two words that meant Lance was parked by the vacant lot where he’d dropped her off. Two

wordsthatmeantthiswasreallyhappening.Noturningback.

Forgoodluck,sheranherfingersoverherukulele.Itssmoothnessalwayshelpedcalmherdown.

Shethenslippedherpurseoverhershoulderandwentdownstairs.

Herparentscuddledonthecouch,theirfeetproppeduponanottoman.AmovieplayedontheTV,

andthescreencastbluelightontheirfaces.

“I’llbebackbeforecurfew.”Herhairflewbehindherassheranpastthecouch.
“SayhitoCamforus,”herfathersaid,eyesstillontheTVscreen.
Herpulsewentcrazy.Shewasgoingtohaveaheartattackfromallthislying.
“Yes, I haven’t seen that girl in a while,” her mother added. She craned her neck to look at

Melissawhoalreadyhadonehandonthedoorknob.“TellherIneedanewprofilephoto.”

Whydidn’ttheybombardherwithquestionsasiftheyknewshewasuptosomething?
Whydidtheyhavetobesonicetonight?
Melissaunstuckhertonguefromtheroomofhermouthandforcedasmile.Shenodded.“Sure,I’ll

makesuretoscheduleaphotoshootforyou.”

“Haveagreattime,Mel.”HermotherturnedbacktotheTVandsnuggledclosertoherfather.
“Iwill,”shesaid,finallypullingthedooropen.
Oncethedoorshutbehindher,Melissatookadeepbreath.Shewaitedforherheartbeattoreturn

tonormal.Ittookafewminutes,andherphonesoonvibratedwithanothermessage.

Areyoustillcoming?
Asshetypedherresponse,herphonevibratedagain.
Iwon’tpushyou.Wecandothisanothertime.
Lancewasgivingheraneasywayout.Hewassayingthatshecouldbackout,and,yes,hemight

be hurt, but he wasn’t going to push her. It meant a lot, the easy way out he was offering. Too bad she
wasn’t going to take it. She stuffed her phone inside her purse and ran down the street, her gold flats
slappingagainstthepavement.Shehadtogettohim.

It was ridiculously hot tonight. The heat burst from the ground and mingled with what was

supposedtobemoistJulyweather.Allthestarswereoutinfullforce.Shetookitasagoodsign.

“Goodevening,Mrs.Almendra!”Shewavedattheirelderlyneighborwhowasgettingsomeair

ontheveranda.Thesmileonherfacetoobigtobecontained.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Mrs. Almendra shouted back, fanning herself with one

hand.Hershockofwhitehairstoodoutalloverherhead.

“Somewherereallynice!”
Andshelaughed.Melissacontinuedrunning,notcaringthathercarefullymeasuredwaveswere

turning into a frizzy mess. She could always weave the strands together into a trusty fishtail braid. It
wasn’tabigdeal.GettingtoLancewas.

She stopped when she was near the vacant lot. His car was already in sight, parked near

overgrownweeds.Thewindowsweretinted,soshecouldn’tseehiminside.

“Mel?”
SheturnedaroundandfoundHunterstandingunderastreetlight.Theyellowlightcasthalfhisface

inshadow,twoplasticbagsfullofgroceriesinhishands.Thestrapofherpursesliddownhershoulder
asherveinsturnedice-cold.

Hecouldruinthisforher.Hecouldruntoherfatherandtellhimabouttheredcarandtheboy

waitinginsideit.Itwouldbesoeasy.Thingswouldbeoverbeforetheyevenstarted.

“Hunter.”Hisnamesoundedlikeapleacomingfromherlips.
“Where are you going?” Hunter took a few steps forward. The plastic bags bumped against his

legs.

Melissa heard the telltale opening and closing of a car door. She didn’t need to turn around to

know that Lance had stepped out of the car. She wanted to close her eyes and whisk the two of them
somewhereelse,somewherewheregettingcaughtdidn’thaveseriousconsequences.

“I’mgoingoutwithLance,”shesaid,surprisingherselfwiththecalminhervoice.“Butmyfather

can’tfindout.Pleasedon’ttellhim.”

Hunter’seyebrowsdrewtogetherashelookedatLanceoverhershoulder.Hiseyesdriftedback

toher,understandingdawninginthem.“Iwon’ttell.”

“Thankyou—”
“But as your friend, I have to tell you to be careful.” Hunter glanced at Lance again. She could

read the expression on his face like the well-worn pages of her favorite book. Wariness. Suspicion.
Indecision.Hisshouldersfell,releasingtensionhe’dbeenholdingin.“Promise?”

“I’llbecareful.Ipromise.”
Hunternoddedasifthatwasenough,evenifsheknewitwasn’t.Forwhatshehopedwasthelast

time,sheturnedherbackonHunter,theboywhohadbeenapartofherlifeforsolongheblendedinto
almostallofhermemories.Lancestoodwaitingforher,thesleevesofhisblackbutton-downshirtrolled
uptohiselbows.Hishairwasacalculatedmesslikealways.

Assheapproached,hewalkedovertothepassengersideandpulledthedooropenforher.With

hishandonthesmallofherback,heguidedherontotheseat.Shecould’veturnedonalightbulbwithall
theelectricityflashingbetweenthem.

“Gladyoudidn’tchangeyourmind,”Lancesaid,leaningoverher.Hewassoclosethatshecould

feelhisbreathonhercheek.Itmadehershiver.Inatotallygoodway.Heshutthecardoorandgotinside.

When the car swerved onto the street, she saw Hunter still standing under the same streetlight,

makingsureshewassafe.Shemouthedherthanksathimandbuckledherseatbelt.

“Areyousurehe’snotgoingtogetyouintrouble?”Lanceasked,hiseyesontheroad.
Sheshookherhead.“No.ItrustHunter.”

Lancedidn’tsayanything,butshecouldtelltherewassomethingwrongwithheranswerbythe

silencethatfollowedit.Hisjawhardened,andhedidn’tglanceinherdirection,notevenwhentheyhad
tostopforaredlight.

DuringoneofMr.Rodriguez’slecturesonenergy,hehadstatedthatitwasindestructible.Onceit

wasgenerated,ithadtogosomewhere.Maybethatwastheexplanationforwhythisdatewasturningout
to be such a disaster. She and Lance had built up all sorts of expectations about this night, and it was
blowingupintheirfaces.

Unabletotakethesilenceanymore,sheclearedherthroat.
Hecontinuedtoignoreher.TheyhadreachedDiversionRoadbythatpoint,alongstretchwhere

mostdriverstookthechancetospeedup.Theycouldgoonnotspeakingforafewmoreminutes.

“Wherearewegoing?”Shefinallybrokethesilence.
Stillnoresponse.
“IwantyoutoknowIhavepeppersprayinmypurse,”shesaid.“Justincaseyouplantoactlike

thisallnight.”

OnecornerofLance’smouthrose.Hewashalfwaytoasmile.Heglancedather,hishandssure

andconfidentonthesteeringwheel.“It’snothing.”

“Tellme.”
“You sounded so sure about trusting Hunter.” The ghost of a smile vanished. His face turned

serious.“Doyoutrustme?”

Wantingtotrusthimwaslikestandingonasandybeach.Shewantedtostripoffherclothesand

diverightin,butshehadtodiphertoesinthewaterfirst.Toseeifitwastoocoldortoohot.

Shedidn’tknowwhattosay,soshereturnedthequestion.“ShouldI?”
Lance didn’t say anything at first. He stared out at the road ahead, like he was weighing the

significance of every word. Finally, he said, “Whether you want to murder Mr. Rodriguez with one of
yourheadbands,oryouneedsomeonetogetyouacolaSlurpeeatoneinthemorning,Iwanttobethe
person you trust so much you won’t think of calling anyone else. Small things. Big things. It doesn’t
matter.”

Sheshouldn’tmakethefirstmove.Sheknewthat,butshecouldn’tthinkofabetterwaytorespond

to the speech that found the chinks in her armor and crawled right in. She reached for his hand and
interlockedtheirfingerssotightlyhecouldn’tletgoifhewantedto.

Hedidn’twantto.Lance’sfingerscurledaroundherown,eventighterthansheimaginedpossible.

Thesmilehe’dbeenholdinginescapedandbrighteneduphisentireface.Itwassoblindingshealmost
raisedonehandtoshieldhereyes.

Hewasbeautiful.Shehadtotellhim.
“You’rewaytoopretty.”Thewordssoundedmorelikeaninsultthanacompliment.
Lanceburstoutlaughing,neverlettinggoofherhandtheentiretime.Hepursedhislips.“Iknow,

right?”

“Ifyouwereagirl,Ibetyou’dbeprettierthanme.”Shewaslaughingnow,too.Atthesillinessof

theconversation.Atthefeelofhishandinhers,likeithadnowhereelsetobe.

Heshrugged,asiftosayshedidn’thavetopointouttheobvious.
Shesmackedhisshoulderwiththehandthatwasn’tholdinghis.
They drove like that for a few minutes, fingers interlocked and silly grins on their faces, until

LanceswervedandthecarwounditswayintoSmallville.Hetookanotherrightturnandparkedthecar
nearanalreadyclosedbank.

They were having dinner at Atria, a one-story outdoor mall full of restaurants and kiosks. After

turningofftheignition,hesprintedoutofthecarandopenedthedoorforher.

Trepidation bubbled up in Melissa's throat. She was on a date. With a boy who claimed to like

her.Withtheoneallthegirlswanted.Shelookedupathisfaceassheunbuckledherseatbeltandsighed.
Hewashere,andasfarasthisnightwasconcerned,hewashers.

Theywalkedupthetiledsteps,passingafountainfloodedwithbluelight.Theypassedgroupsof

peopleeatingonoutsidetables.Twokids,aboyandgirl,ranpastthem,gigglingthewholetime.

A respectful distance remained between them, but her heartbeat stuttered whenever their hands

brushed.Shecouldn'ttakehishand.Notnow.Notinsuchapublicplace.

"Haveyoutriedanyoftherestaurantshere?”Lanceasked,tiltinghisheaddownather.
"CamandIcomeherefromtimetotime,"shesaid."ShelovesSeafoodIsland."
Melissawantedtoaskhimwhichrestaurantshe'dtried,butthen,sherememberedthathemight've

gonewithoneofhisnumerousex-girlfriends.Thequestionvanishedfromthetipofhertongue.

She turned the corner, Lance by her side, and stopped dead. Mr. Rodriguez sat inside a

Singaporeanrestaurantwithhiswifeandtwokids,spooningsoupintohismouth.Onlyaglasswalland
severaltablesseparatedthem.Beforetheirteachercouldglanceintheirdirection,shegrabbedLance's
armandpulledhimbehindakiosksellingcomicbooks.

"What'sgoingon?”Lancecranedhisnecktogetabetterlookatwhathadfreakedheroutsomuch.
Sheheldhisfacebetweenherpalms.Hisskinfeltsowarmthatittookherasecondtorefocus.

"Ournightmareofateacherisintherehavingdinnerwithhisfamily."

Lance scratched the back of his neck. "It's not a problem. We'll eat somewhere else. There are

plentyofrestaurantshere."

"Idon'tthinkthat'sgoingtowork."
Hedidn'tunderstand.TherewereplentyofrestaurantsinAtria,intheentirecity,buttherewere

also plenty of people who could see them. Word could get back to her father. She slowly removed her
handsfromhisfaceandplacedthembehindher,safewheretheycouldn'treachoutandtouchhim.

“Oh.”Hisexpressionsaiditall.“Igetit.”
Theywalkedbacktothecarinsilence.Shecouldn’tevensaytheywerewalkingtogether,because

Lancestayedafewpacesbehindherthewholetime.Sheglancedathimoverhershoulder.Hewastaking
in the sights around him. The couple their age who were sharing a banana sundae outside an ice cream
place.Theclusterofgirlshuddledaroundaclothingstall.Thegirlsstaredathim,burstingintogigglesas
hepassed.Anunpleasantlumpformedinherthroat.

InsteadoffeelingaliveonajoyousThursdaynight,Atrianowfeltsuffocatingwithallthepeople

runningaround,theheatclosingaroundthemlikeachokehold.

Lancewasstillagentlemanwhentheygottothecar,openingandshuttingthedoorforher.Once

he got inside, he didn’t turn on the ignition right away. They sat in silence as awkwardness bloomed
betweenthem,likesomekindofpoisonousflower.

Thiswasit,wasn’tit?Hewasgoingtodriveherhome,forgetabouther,andmoveontoanother

girlwhowasn’tsoterrifiedofherownfather.Maybeitwasforthebest.Maybe—

“I’m in the mood for a hamburger. And fries.” Lance turned to her, adorably tugging at one ear.

“Whataboutyou?”

Hersarcasmdecidedtocheckoutjustthen.Shelookeddownatthepurseonherlap.“Thatsounds

wonderful.”

***
Ifthiswereanotherlifetime,anothergirl,Lancewouldn’thavemindedbeingadirty,littlesecret.

Infact,hewould’verelishedit.Hewould’velikedsecretrendezvousatavacantlotablockawayfrom

herhouseandcodedmessagesthatnooneelsecouldunderstand.Itwasexciting.

Intheory.
Inreallife,though?
Notsomuch.
AsMelissasatbesidehimonthepassengerseatofhiscar,hetookadeepbreathandattemptedto

sort out his thoughts. They both held cheeseburgers in their hands, two large orders of fries and large
Cokesonthedashboardinfrontofthem.

Hehadimaginedbetterthingsfortheirfirstofficialdate.Thechickenwingsandsteakshe’dhad

inmindforthenightturnedintothedrive-thruatMcDonald’s.Andthecozybistro?Itwashiscarparked
inanalleybehindaChineseprivateschool.Atleast,itwasprivate,thesleepingoldladyinthesari-sari
storeaboutfifteenfeetawaytheironlywitness.Hecouldgiveitthatmuch.Noonewasgoingtorunoffto
Mr.Ortiztotellhimhispreciousdaughterwaswithunsavorycompany.

Hecouldfeelhereyesonhimashechewed,buteverytimeheglancedinherdirection,shestared

downatherpurse.Atherfeet.Atthestreetlightgloweringdownonthemlikeaspotlight.Anythingbutat
him.Heplacedhishalf-eatencheeseburgeronthedashboardandforcedthewordsdownhisthroat.

Intheend,hecouldn’tstophimself.
Hehadtoask.
“Why won’t you tell your father you’re going out with me?” The words flew out of his mouth.

“What’stheworstthingthatcouldhappen?”

Melissalookedathimwitheyesthatpriedhimopen.Inavoicesolowhecouldbarelyhearher,

shesaid,“Hewon’tletmegooutwithyouagain.AndIdon’twantthat.”

Lance swallowed. Her words took him by surprise, so he grabbed his Coke and took a sip to

coverit.

The thing was, her hiding him from her father ate at him, like the nasty flesh-eating fungus he’d

onceseenonTV,buthedidn’twanttostopthis,whateverwasgoingonbetweenthemevenifitdidn’t
haveanameyet.Nothavingachoicemadehimwanttoslamhisfistagainstthesteeringwheel.

Then,herfingerslightlytouchedthehandhe’dunknowinglycurledintoafist.Shemadethefingers

uncurlandrelaxwithhertouch,lightlytracingthelinesonhispalm.Helether.

“WhenIwaslittle,Iusedtolovebeingtheprincipal’sdaughter,”shestarted.“IgottoseePapaat

schoolandathome.Iwasneveralone,andIfeltso,youknow,proudthatmyfatherwastheprincipal.He
evenmadewanttobeateachersomeday.Itfeltlikeanhonortobehisdaughter.”

“Andnow?”
“It’s still an honor. Don’t get me wrong.” She shot him a look. “But sometimes, he expects too

much. I try to get everything right, but it always feels like I forgot a step or missed something.” The
beautifulgirlinthepassengerseatturnedtohimandgiftedhimwithasmile,onesosadhewantedtokiss
itaway.“Whataboutyou?TellmesomethingIdon’talreadyknow.”

“Aboutmyself?”
Shenodded.
“MymotherleftwhenIwassix,”wasthefirstthinghesaid.Hedidn’tknowwhy.Hehadonly

sharedthiswithJace,andevenhisbestfrienddidn’tknowallthedetails.“Sometimes,Itellpeople,Itell
myself,thatIdon’trememberher,butIdo.Irememberthatsheleftwhenthingsgothard,andthatIdon’t
wanttobethatperson.Theonewholeaveswhenthingsgethard.Thethingis,I’vebeenthatpersonfor
years.”

“Whatifthingsgetharder?”Melissawhispered.Thenumbersonthedashboardlitupherfaceas

shelaidherheadonhisshoulder.

Whatifthingsgetharderforus?Therealquestionhungunspokenbetweenthem.
Hefroze,lettinghergetcomfortable.Shesmelledlikelavenderandmintshampoo.Lookingdown

atthetangleofcurlsandatthewhiteheadbandstillstuckinherhair,acertaintybegantospreadthrough
him.Hecouldtoughitout.Forher.Hedidn’twanttobethepersonwhotooktheeasywayoutanymore.

“Lance?”sheprodded.
Hesmiled,lettingtheslow,easysmileeasetakeoverhisface.“Youcanalwayssupergluemeto

mychair,soIcan’tleave.”

She straightened up so quickly she must’ve gotten whiplash. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Jabbingafingerathischest,shesaid,“Youstartedthewholethingandyouknowit.”

Hewantedtokissherrightthen,whenshewasangryandhotcoalsburnedinhereyes.
Hedidjustthat.
Grabbingthefingershe’djabbedathischestwithonehand,hewoundtheotheraroundherneck

andpulledhercloser,theirlipsmeetinghalfway.

Yes,Lancehadkissedalotofgirls.Atthemovies.Athishouse.Inthisverycar.Ithadneverfelt

like this. None of the prior kisses made him feel like his heart had been blown up and reassembled
afterwardsforfurtherdestruction.

He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, even nibbling on it a little. Tentatively, Melissa’s hands

madetheirwayuphischestandaroundhisneck.Sherakedherfingersoverhishairandinchedcloseras
ifshewantedmore.

He,ontheotherhand,wasburningupwiththeneedformore.Hepressedhistongueagainsthers,

andfinallylethisfingersslideagainsthersilkyhair,somethinghe’dbeenwanting—needing—todofor
as long as he could remember. He pulled away, because the need for more threatened to swallow him
whole.

Whentheybrokeapart,heleanedhisforeheadagainsthersandwhispered,“Oryoucouldkissme.

Thatalsoworks.”

ChapterThirteen

"Itmust'vebeensomekiss,huh?"Camshovedaspoonfuloficecreamintohermouthandgrinned.

Melissadartedfromherbedandshutthedoortoherroom.Leaningagainstit,shewidenedher

eyesatherbestfrienduntiltheystartedlaughing."Shutupandhelpme."

"Fiiiine."Camfinishedofftherestofhericecreamintwobitesandplacedtheemptybowlonher

bedsidetable.

Theystartedstringingupfairylightsaboveherdesk.Melissamadesuretheclutteronthesurface

lookedlikeacalculatedmess,theorigamifiguresmadefromcolorfulconstructionpaperfrontandcenter
andnotebookswithpastelcoversstackedononecorner.Oncefinished,theysteppedbacktoadmiretheir
handiwork.

Camtiltedherheadtoviewthewholethingfromanotherangle."Ourbackdroplooksperfect.I

thinkwe'rereadytostartfilming."

"Ithinkso,too,"Melissasaid,feelingnervousforthefirsttime.
Camgrabbedherstill-foldedtripodfromthebedandstartedgettingeverythingready.Fromher

perchonthewoodenchairbyherdesk,Melissawatchedherfiddlewiththecamerasettings,tryingtoget
everythingright.Herpalmsbegantosweat,soshegrabbedherukulelefromthefootofthebedtosettle
hernerves.Shestartedtuningituntilthestringshittherightnotes.

"Seriously,Mel,itmust'vebeensomekissifyoudecidedtofilmaukulelecoverallofasudden,"

Camproddedonceagainassheattachedhercameratothetripod.

Melissa'sgazefelltotheukuleleinherhands.ApartofherregrettedtellingCamaboutthekiss,

likekeepingittoherselfmadeitmorevibrantsomehow,morereal.Buthowcouldshepossiblynottell
anyone without exploding? She had kissed Lance, and it had been a-freaking-mazing. His lips must've
beenmadeoffairydustandangelwings.Theysurelookedlikeit.

Andhelikedher.
Herfingersitchedtoplayeverysappylovesongsheknewatthethought.
"Hemakesmewanttobebrave,"shefoundherselfwhispering.
Camsnorted."Well,ifIknewhe'dhavethiseffectonyou,Iwould'vetoldyoutomakeoutwith

himalongtimeago."

Asifheknewtheyweretalkingabouthim,Melissa'sphonebuzzedwithamessagefromLance.
CurrentlyatMcDonald's.Can'thelpsmilingovermyfries.;)
Heatbegantocreepupherneckasshestareddownatthemessage.Fastfoodhadneverseemed

so...illicit.

"Hesentyouadirtytext,didn'the?"Camsaidinawe,facehalf-hiddenbyhercamera."Hetotally

did."

Melissa'sfacedidn'tonlyheatupafterhearingCam'scomment.Itburned.Sheheldupherphone

indefense."It'snotadirtytext,Iswear."

Itwasaridiculously-adorable-bordering-on-cheesytext.Shequicklytypedupareply.
Workingonsomethingevenbetterthan'fries'.
Hisreplycameinamatterofseconds.Betterthanfries?Now,I'mexcited.
Withoutreplying,asillygrinonherface,shetossedherphoneonherbedwhereitbouncedtwice

onthemattress.AknowingsmirkplayedonCam’slipswhenshelookedup.

Sheheldherstupidgrinincheck.“Itwasn’tadirtytext,Cam.”
“Well,itsureashellwasn’tacleanone,either.”
Melissapursedherlipstogether,carefullytryingtokeepherexpressionblank.Sure,Camwasher

bestfriend,buttherewerethingslikethesharingoffriesinthedarkandcheesytextmessagesfromaboy
whowassupposedtobeaplayerthatshewantedtokeeptoherself.Shewantedtopullthesememories
outatnightandsavorthem,likeatailorunspoolingthreadandmakingsomethingbeautiful.

“Shouldwedoatestshot?”Hervoicecameoutsurprisinglyeven.
Seeing that she didn’t want to discuss the dirtiness of Lance’s text message any further, Cam

merelyshruggedandbeganrecording.

Melissastaredintothecamerainfrontofherandtookadeep,much-neededbreath.Sheknewshe

waspreparedforthis,hadevenswipedonsomemascaraandhadherfavoritepinklipglossalloverher
lips. Her hair was in an elaborate milkmaid braid, and she wore a pink lace dress that made her skin
glow.Sheknewallofthosethings,buttheywereonthesurface.

Shelovedherukulele,butuntilthatmoment,herskillatplayingithadneverbeentested,never

broughtoutoftheconfinesofthishouseforpublicconsumption.

Itwasexhilaratingandterrifyingatthesametime.
Lance’sfaceflashedinhermind,thewayheglancedatherwhentheyweregettingtheirfoodat

McDonald’s.Hedidn’tagreewithkeepingwhateverwasgoingonbetweenthemasecret,buthediditfor
her.Shewantedtodosomethingtoshowhimshecouldbebrave,too.Evenalittle.

So,afteronemoredeepbreath,shepickedupherukulelebetweenherhandsandbegantostrum.

Thesongshewasplayingwasn’tapopularone.Itwasasappylovesongbyalittle-knowncountrysinger,
andittoldthestoryofagirlandtheboywhodidthingsforherthatsheneverimaginedanyonecoulddo.
Ittoldofhowthegirlsuddenlyfoundherselfbecomingbraver.Forhim.

SurprisingbothherselfandCam,Melissabegantosing.Hervoicewasshakyatfirst,growingin

confidencewitheachstrumofherhand.Shehadn’trealizedthatsheknewthelyricstotheentiresong,but
the words came to her unbidden. Her eyes closed of their own accord, her voice and ukulele melding
togetheruntiltheendofthesong.Whensheopenedhereyes,shefoundCamstaringather.

“Yousaidyouwantedtodoatestshot,”Camsaid.“Youdidn’tsayyouwereplanningonblowing

meaway.”

Melissaknewshewasgood,butavoiceinsideher—onethatsoundedsuspiciouslylikeherfather

—neededvalidation.“Wasitreallygood?”

“Areyoukidding,Mel?”Camstoppedrecordingandwalkedovertoher.“Youwereamazing.If

Lanceisn’talreadyinlovewithyou,thenhewillbeafterseeingyourvideo.EspeciallyafterIeditit.”

Shelaughed,herarmsencirclingCam’sslimwaist.“You’remoreamazing,Cam.HowdidIgetso

lucky?”

“You won the best friend lottery,” Cam said with a little laugh. She eased back a little, a

mischievoustwinkleinhereyes.“AndifI’manyjudge,you’reabouttowintheboyfriendlottery,too.”

“Lanceisn’tmyboyfriend.”
“Notyet.Becareful,okay?”
Her heartbeat stuttered upon hearing the words. Hunter had said the exact same thing. Melissa

lookedCamintheeye.“Whydoyouallsaythat?”

“Lanceiscrazyaboutyou.Icantell,”Camstarted.Whenshelookedawaybeforespeakingagain,

itwasobviousthenextwordscomingoutofhermouthweren’tgoingtobepleasant,likesourcandyon
hertongue.“Buthe’sLance,youknow?Justtrytoholdyourheadabovewater,ifyouknowwhatImean.”

Sheknewwhatherbestfriendwassaying.Keepcalmanddon’tgocrazy.Don’tletherheartdo

allthethinking.Butshewasseventeenyearsoldandhadkissedaboyforthefirsttime.

Shefeareditwasalreadytoolateforthat.
***
As his car slowed to a stop in front of the pharmacy where Melissa and Cam had taken shelter

after the game, Lance couldn’t help but feel that things were coming full circle. He and Melissa had
carefullyplannedhowtheyweregoingtomeetafterweekenddetention,andnow,hewashere.Waiting
forher.

Theytalkedaboutthisindetailthenightbefore.Theyweregoingtosaygoodbyeseparatelyafter

weekenddetentionended,soMr.Chua,thecustodianwhosupervisedthem,wouldn’tnoticeathing.

Actnonchalant.Waitforeachotherattheappointedspot.Easybreezy.Exceptthingsweren’tso

easy.

Hewanted to watchher get intohis car inside theschool parking lot.He squashed that thought,

silenceditbeforehecouldwishformorethingshecouldn’thave.

The passenger side door swung open and Melissa got inside. She tucked the folds of her pink

floraldressunderher,carefullysettlingherpurseonherlap.Asalways,hisheartstalledatthesightof
her.Itwasbecomingaregularoccurrence,buthewasn’tquiteusedtoityet.

Her hair wasn’t up in another fancy braid today. It wasn’t held back by a colorful headband,

either.Itwassimplypulledbackinalowponytailwithstraystrandsfallingacrossherface.Hisfingers
itchedtotuckthembehindherear.

Hehadknownthisgirlsincetheyweresevenyearsold.Howcouldhehavenevernoticedtheway

herfacewastheonlysunhewantedtorevolvearound?Howhecouldhehavebeensoblindforsolong?

“Areyouokay?”Shelookedathimthroughherlashes,aflushspreadingacrosshercheeks.
Lanceclearedhisthroat.Hewaseighteenyearsold,butheknew—justknew—thathewasnever

goingtofeelthiswayaboutanyoneeveragain.Itwasimpossible.Unimaginable.

“I’m fine.” He restarted the ignition. The car began to move and soon made its way through the

congestedcitystreets.

“Wherearewegoinganyway?”Melissaasked,hereyesonthecommercialbuildingstheypassed.
“I asked you to wear a sundress and flip-flops.” His gaze darted from the road to her and back

again.“Thatshould’vebeenyourfirstclue.”

“We’regoingtothebeach.”Hecouldn’tseeher,buthecouldalmostfeeltheslow,confidentsmile

spreading across her face. “You’re going to grab every opportunity to show off your six-pack, aren’t
you?”

Heshrugged,cockygrininplace.“Youknowyouwanttoseemyabs.”
“That’sunfair.Howcomeyoudidn’taskmetobringaswimsuit?”
Theimageofherinaswimsuit,preferablywhitewithlittleflowersprintedalloverit,madehim

losehisconcentrationforamoment.Hepicturedherhaircascadingoverthewhitestraps.Summerheat
didn’tevenbegintocompare.

“Ifyouputonaswimsuit,Imightnotbeabletocontrolmyself,”Lancefoundhimselfsaying.
Theywereatstoplightbythatpoint,thelightturningred,sohetookthechancetosneakaglanceat

her.Insteadoftheblushheexpected,hefoundherlookingathimwithanoddlookonherface.Slowly,
sheshookherheadathim,theslow,easysmilereturning.“Doesthatlineusuallyworkforyou?”

“Youtellme.I’veneveruseditbefore.”
The surprised look on her face was worth his honesty. Melissa didn’t say anything. She merely

grabbedhishandandinterlacedtheirfingers.Theydrovelikethatandleftthecitybehind.Oton,atown
known for its beaches, soon came in view. He hoped she wasn’t allergic to seafood. This whole day

wouldbeathousandtimeslessromanticifthatwerethecase.

Whenthecarswervedleftandenteredastretchofgravel,Melissadidn’tevenshootaquestioning

look his way. She trusted him, and it was humbling. He wasn’t sure he’d earned it yet. The sign on the
entranceproclaimedtheplacetobeSunny’sBeachResort.Hiscarwastheonlyoneintheparkinglot.
Maybethislittleescapadewasn’tsocrazyafterall.

Hejumpedoutofthecarbeforeshecouldevenunbuckleherseatbeltandopenedthedoorforher.

Whenshesteppeddown,hereyestookinthetinywoodencottagesthatlinedthebeachfrontandthemain
houseafewfeetaway.Palmtreesswayedinthebreeze,andabrowndoglazilynappedonthesand,not
caringaboutthehotmorningsun.Hehopedshelikedwhatshesaw.

Lancehadn’tbeentoSunny’sBeachResortinaverylongtime,butitheldgreatmemoriesforhim.

BeingchaseddownthesandbyJulianne.Buildingsandcastleswithabluepailbyhissideastheirfather
lookedonfromoneofthecottages.Itwasn’tthemostpopularofplaces,butitwasprivateandbeingthere
feltright.EspeciallywithMelissa.

Whenherhandslidintohis,theybeganwalkingtooneofthecottagesnearthebeach.Suddenly,

havingherhandinhiswasn’tenoughanymore.Heslidhishandoutofhergrasp,placedhisarmaround
her shoulders, and pulled her closer. His lips found their way to her hair, and he simply inhaled. He
discoveredwhyshealwayssmelledlikelavender.Itwashershampoo.

Hewonderedifthiswastoomuch,toosoon,butsheslidherarmaroundhiswaist.Itwasn’ttoo

much,toosoon,atall.Itwasperfect.

Theysatside-by-sideononeoftheopencottagesclosetothebeach.AwaiterinaredHawaiian

shirtsooncameoutofthehouse,twomenusinhand.Hewaitedwithanotepadandpenastheydecided
whattoorder.Lancedidn’thavetothinktwice.Heorderedoldfavoriteslikeporkbarbecue,thebaked
oystershissisterlovedsomuch,andricecookedinStarmargarinethatnevertastedquiterightanywhere
else.

“Hungry?”Melissaraisedhereyebrows.
Hestaredather.“Youhavenoidea.”
“Shut.Up.”She’dwalkedrightintothatone.Theybothknewit.
“Anythingelse?”Thewaiterasked,oblivioustothegrowingheatbetweenthem.
“Justamangoshake,please.”
Once their food arrived, Lance scraped the contents of several baked oysters out of their shells

onto Melissa’s waiting plate. She stared at him the whole time, a little smile playing on her lips. Upon
catchingher,heplacedthespoonhe’dbeenusingonhisemptyplateandcaressedherlowerlipwithhis
thumb. Because he could. Her lower lip felt soft and warm. He wanted to kiss it for the foreseeable
future.

Hersmilegrewwider.“Ilikelookingatyou.”
Shelikedhim,hewassure,butshehadneversaidthewordsoutloud.Hearinghersaysomething

alongthoselinesmadehimfreeze,likeaninvisiblehandhadreachedintohiswatchandplacedafinger
onthehandcountingdowntheseconds.

Hesmiledback.“Ilikelookingatyou,too.”
Whentheyweredoneeating,LancestoodupandgrabbedMelissa’shand.Theywalkeddownto

the beach, fingers intertwined. Until now, he couldn’t believe he could reach out and lace his fingers
throughhers.Heflexedhisfingerstomakesurehewasn’tdreaming.Itstillfeltlikehittingathree-point
shotduringthelastminuteofabasketballgame.

Oncetheystoodcloseenoughtothewatertodiptheirtoesinit,Melissabentdownandslipped

herfeetoutofherflipflops.Hebentdowntograbthemwiththehandthatwasn’tholdinghers.Sheletgo

ofhishandandwalkeduntilshewasknee-deepinthewater,onehandpullingupthehemofherdressso
it wouldn’t get wet. The sun shining down on her face, she whirled around to look at him. “You’re not
coming?”

“No.”Heshrugged.
“Ithoughtyouweregoingtoshowoffyourabs?”Sheshadedherfacewithonehand.
“Iknewit.You’vebeenwaitingtoseethemthiswholetime.”
At that, she ran back toward him, seawater splashing around her with every step. Droplets

dampenedherdressandturnedthelightpinkfabricdark.Shedidn’tstopwhentheywereface-to-face.

Instead,shewrappedherarmsaroundhim,theforceoftheimpactmakingthembothcollapseon

thesand.Shewasstilllaughingwhenhemadean‘oof’sound,herhandsflatonhischestandtheirlegs
tangling.

“Shit,thathurt.”Theinstincttocoverhismouthafterswearingtookoverwhenhesawherlooking

downathim.Hisbrowsdrewtogether.“IsitokayifIswear?”

Itwasherturntoshrug.“It’sfine.”
Asmiletippedhislipsupatthecorners.“Ibetyoudon’tevenknowhowtoswear.”
Things were so great between them that he sometimes forgot how competitive she could be. It

showednowinthechallenginggleamofhereyes.“Ido,too.”

“Ibetyoucan’tevensay‘fuckyou.’”Anideabegantoforminhismind.
“Ican.”
“Sayitthen.”
“Fuck you,” she said, a blush blossoming across her cheeks. The words sounded wrong coming

fromherlipssomehow,likebeerpouredintoafancyteacup.

Lancetriedtohidehisgrin.Cuppinghisearwithonehand,hesaid,“Ididn’thearyou.”
“Fuckyou.”
“Louder.”
“Fuckyou!”
Hecouldn’tholdbackhisgrinashesaid,“No,thankyou.”
Thepalmsstillleaningagainsthischestturnedintofists.Shebeganpoundingonhischest,andhe

quicklywrappedhisarmsaroundher.Theycollapsedintoafitofgigglesonthesandasherannoyanceat
losingturnedintoamusement.Heclosedhiseyesandmerelyenjoyedthefeelingofhavingherinhisarms.

ChapterFourteen

MelissaandLanceweregreattogether.Infact,theywereperfect.

Weren’tthey?
Sherepeatedthewordsoverandoverinherheadlikeamantra.Herphonelayflatonthetable,

tauntingherwithitssilence.Shenarrowedhereyesatitandsilentlywilledittovibratewithamessage.
A phone call. A notification. Anything. When it refused to cooperate, she sighed, rubbing her face with
onehand.

Melissadidn’twanttobethatgirl,theonewhowentcrazyifaguywhowasn’tevenofficiallyher

boyfriend didn’t reaffirm his existence in her life in little more than twenty-four hours. But she was
becoming that girl. She couldn’t deny it anymore as anxiety began to twist in her stomach, like a noose
tighteningaroundaninmate’sneck.

God,shewasbecomingmorbid.
Acrossthetablefromher,Camfiddledwiththesettingsofhercamera,thestrapwrappedaround

onehand.Theywereattheirregulartableat7-Eleven.Behindthem,asleepytwenty-somethinggulped
downasteamingbowlofinstantnoodles.Anoverlyexcitedgroupofkidslinedupbythecountertoget
saltedcaramelicecream.

Theplacewasn’tfancy,butitwaswheretheyregroupedandsimplyprocessedthings.LikeLance

andhisapparentlackofcommunication.

Shedidn’twanttobringitupwithCam.Shedidn’twantthiswholedaytobeaLance-dramafest,

butthewordsslippedoutanyway.“WhydoyouthinkIhaven’theardfromhimatall?”

Camplacedthecameraonthetableandshrugged.“Maybehe’sbusy.”
“With what?” Melissa’s voice rose in pitch without her permission. When Cam raised her

eyebrowsinquestion,shetoldherselftogetagrip.“Thisisn’tme,youknow?”

“What?Thisslightlyobsessedgirl?”Camsmiled,reachingforhercameraoncemore.“Ithappens

tothebestofus.”

“Ithasn’thappenedtoyou.”
“I’mtoosophisticatedforallthishighschoolromancenonsense.”
Insteadofrespondingwithasarcasticcomment,Melissamerelygrabbedahandfulofpotatochips

from the open packet between them and chucked it in Cam’s general direction. “Yeah, you look real
sophisticatedwithchipsinyourhair.”

“I swear to God, Lance is a horrible influence on you. You weren’t like this before,” Cam

mutteredasshebrushedcrumbsoffhershirt.“Whydon’tyoucheckhisprofileandseewhathe’supto?
Thatway,youcanstalkhimwithouthimknowing.”

“Funny.”Melissajokinglyrolledhereyes,butshereachedforherphoneanyway.
Settingasideallrationalthought,shelookedupLance’sonlineprofileandscrolledthroughit.The

thingsshesawturnedherinsidesascoldasthecolaSlurpeeshefinisheddrinkinglessthanaminuteago.
Hisprofilewasfullofpostsfromgirls.Prettygirls.Tonsofthem.

WassogladIranintoyou!Textme,okay?XOXO.
Ohmygod,ifIknewyouwenttoSaintAgnes,Iwould’veenrolledtherealongtimeago.;)
I’mfreethisweekend.Justsoyouknow.
Haven’theardfromyouinawhile.:(Imissyou!

Melissahadn’trealizedherknuckleshadturnedwhiteuntilCamattemptedtopryherphoneoutof

herfingers.SheletthephoneslipoutofhergraspandwatchedasCamscrolledthroughLance’sprofile.
Hereyebrowsrosehigherwitheverymovementofherthumb.

“Ifit’sanyconsolation,hehasn’trepliedtoanyofthem,”Camfinallysaid.
Asifthatmadethingsbetter.Lancecould’verepliedviaprivatemessage,andevenifhedid,who

wasshetostophim?Theyweren’tofficiallytogether.Shecouldn’tevenaskifhe’dreplied,becauseshe
didn’thavetherighttodoso.

Notyet.
Maybenotever.
Sheshookthenegativethoughtsaway.Helikedher,reallylikedher.Hedidn’tevenneedtosayit

out loud. It was obvious in the way he sometimes leaned into her and breathed her in, like he couldn’t
believeshewasreal.

“Whydon’tyoutellyourfatheryou’regoingoutwithLancesoyoucanstophiding?”Itwasso

likeCamtogetrighttotheheartofthings.

Cam had a point. Why didn’t she tell her father about Lance? The answer was simple and

complicatedatthesametime.Yes,shewasafraidofherfatherandhowhewouldreact,butthatwasonly
thetipoftheiceberg.

“Seriousconversation?”
SheandCamlookedupatthesametimeandfoundHunterstaringdownatthem.Heheldasalted

caramelicecreamconeinonehand.Cam’seyesdartedtoMelissaasifsilentlyasking,Isthissupposed
tobeawkward?

Melissaraisedhereyebrows.It’ssupposedtobe,butit’snot.
Anditwasthetruth.HunterwasnowTheGuySheGrewUpWithinsteadofsimplyTheGuy.She

hadnoideahowithappened,butallthesignsofaHunterSightingnowrefusedtomakeanappearance.
Asproof,sheaimedasmileinhisdirection.

“Kind of,” Melissa said, edging to the edge of her seat to give Hunter space to sit down. “We

couldprobablyuseyourexpertopinion.”

Helookedalittletiredtoday,likehe’dstayeduplatetakingcareofhislittlesisterorpracticing

withhisband.Histrademarkdrumstickswerenowheretobefound.Maybeitwasjustherandtheway
shesawhim.Withouteventhinkingtwiceaboutit,heploppeddownbesideher,hisgripneverloosening
onhisicecreamcone.

“So, what serious matters are we discussing today?” His tongue swirled around the top of the

coneandsweptbackintohismouth.

Acrossthetable,Camstaredathimasifhe’draisedhisshirtandflashedaperfectsix-pack.Still

staringatHunter,shesaid,“Itotallygetitnow.”

“I’msorry?”Hunterrippedhiseyesawayfromhisbelovedicecreamconeforasecondtogazeat

Cam.

“WhyMellikedyousomuch.”CamwavedahandinHunter’sgeneraldirection.“It’sthewhole

band boy thing. You look like you’re good with your hands, especially when you’re playing the drums.
Evenifthere’sahugechanceyouaren’t.Andyoueatingthaticecreamcone?It’sprettytempting.”

SomeofHunter’sicecreammust’vegonedownthewrongpipe,becausehestartedchokingonit.

Eyeswide,heblinkedatCam,notknowingwheretoevenbegin.“Firstofall,IlooklikeI’mgoodwith
myhandsevenifI’mprobablynot?Howdoyouevenknowthat?Also,tempting?”

Melissasilentlywatchedtheirinteraction,feelingsoblindfornotseeingthisallalong.Sheand

Hunterhadneverbeenrightforeachother,becausehenevermanagedtoknockheroffherfeettheway

Lancedid.Cometothinkofit,she’dnevercomeclosetoflusteringhimeither.Hewasalwayssocool
andcollectedaroundher.

Cam,ontheotherhand,managedtomakehimchokeonhisicecreaminthespanoftenseconds.

Howhadsheneverseenthisbefore?

“Boysandflattery.It’ssoeasytomanipulateyou.”Camrolledhereyesandstuffedapotatochip

inhermouth.“Now,let’sgobacktotheproblemathand.Ifyoulikedagirl,whywouldn’tyoucontacther
formorethantwenty-fourhours?”

“MaybeI’mbusy,”Huntersaidwithashrug.Hereturnedhisattentiontohisicecreamcone,but

thenallofasudden,thesituationdawnedonhim.“Wait,arewetalkingaboutthatjockwhopickedMel
upbythevacantlot?”

MelissaandCambothnodded.
Stilllickinghisicecreamcone,Hunterproceededtothink.“Idon’tknow.Maybeheisbusy,but

sincehelookedlikesuchajackass,youshouldmakehimpay.”

Asifoncue,herphonefinallybuzzedwithamessagefromLance.
Whatareyouupto?
Afternothearingfromhimformorethanaday,thatwasallshegot?Whatareyouupto?Whatdid

thatevenmean?Shewantedtograbtheendofherbraidandtugatitinfrustration.MaybeHunterhada
point.UnabletoresistneedlingLancealittlebit,sheangrilytypedthewordsonherphone.

Hangingoutat7-ElevenwithCam,shereplied.AndHunter.
***
“Thisisn’tfunny,”Lancegrittedthewordsout.
Juliannelaughedontheotherendoftheline.“Youhavetoadmit,itsortofis.Imean,willyou

everlearn,littlebrother?”

“Oh,IthinkI’velearnedmylessonnow.”
Julianne laughed again. If he could reach into the phone and cover her mouth to shut her up, he

would,butshewasinanothercontinent.Thebestthinghecoulddowaspinchhisnosewithhisthumband
pointerfinger,willingtheincomingheadacheaway.

Butthen,hissister’stoneturnedserious.“WhatdidItellyoubefore?”
“Behonest.Don’tplaygames.”Hesighed.
“Goodtohearyoustillremember.”
Lance closed his eyes. He could almost picture Julianne nodding, her hair bouncing against her

face. The thought that he no longer knew what color her hair was this week made his eyes fly open.
“Whenareyoucominghome,bytheway?”

“Awww,youmissme?That’ssocute.”
“JusttryingtofigureoutwhenIshouldmoveout.”
Beforetheconversationcouldgetevenmoreridiculous,Lanceextractedapromisefromhissister

to call soon and ended the conversation. He stood up from the bench he’d been fuming on for the past
fifteenminutes,fistclenchedandreadytohitsomething.

Jaceandhisteammateswereinthecafeteriamerrilyeatinglunch.Commonsensetoldhimtowalk

overthereandlettheirjokesandeasycamaraderiedefusethetensionthreateningtoswallowhimwhole.
Buthe’dneverbeengoodatfollowingcommonsense.

His feet took him in the general direction of the library, the place where Melissa was currently

hidinginanattempttoavoidhim.

Maybe this whole thing was his fault. He sure started it when he deliberately decided not to

contact her. He wanted to see what would happen, see if she’d reach out first and show that she, you

know,missedhim.Itwasn’ttoomuchtoask,wasit?

Intheend,he’dbeenthefirsttocaveandreachouttoher.Herresponsealmostmadehisphonefly

outofhishands.She’dbeenhavingagrandtimenothearingfromhim.WithHunter.Ittookathirty-minute
lecturefromJacetostophimfromrushingoutoftheirvideogamemarathon.

So,hedecidedtoplayitcool,andtheynowhadn’tspokentoeachotherinthreedays.
Itwascool.
Itwasn’tdrivinghimcrazy.
Not.At.All.
Obviously,playingitcoolwasnolongeranoption.
Whenhereachedthelibrary,hefoundMelissasittingononeofthemoresecludedtables.Stacks

oftextbookssurroundedher,eachonethickerandmoreboringthantheonebeforeit.

Students whipped their heads up from their notes the second he walked inside, surprised to see

himinthisplace.Theyallknewhespentlunchbeingobnoxiousinthecafeteriawithhisfriends.

Lanceclearedhisthroat.Hishandreacheduptotugthecollarofhisshirtawayfromhisthroatas

ifitwaschokinghim.

Ignoringthestares,hewalkedovertoMelissa’stable.Herspinestiffenedthesecondshesensed

hispresence,andhergriptightenedonthegoldpenhe’dreturnedtoheraftertheywenttoSunny’sBeach
Resorttogether.Hepulledoutachaironthetablerightbehindherandsatdown,theirbackstoeachother.

Heloudlyclearedhisthroat.
She refused to take the bait. It took all of his willpower not to turn around and flip the open

notebookinfrontofherclosed.

“HowlongareyougoingtopretendIdon’texist?”Lanceasked,hisvoicelowsonoonecould

hearthem.Heleanedbackonhischair,sohecouldhearheranswer.

Ittookheralloftwoseconds.“ForaslongasIwantto.”
“Ididn’tdoanythingwrong.”
“AreyousayingI did?” He could almost imagine her eyebrows rising. The venom in her voice

toldhimhewasindeepshit.

“Thatwasn’twhatIsaidatall,”hetriedtobacktrack.
Melissadidn’tsayanything,buthesoonheardathicktextbookslamdownonthetable.Thesound

ofatextbookbeingflippedopenwithforcefollowed.

“Youknow,thebookdidn’tdoanythingwrong,”hesaidoutofthecornerofhismouth.
“You’reright.”Melissa’svoicewasaslowashis,butshecouldn’thidetheangercoilingthrough

everyword.“Thebookdoesn’tdeservetobemanhandledlikethis.Itdidn’tignoreme,becauseitwas
toobusyplayingvideogameswithJace.”

Oh,shit.
He had forgotten that Jace tagged him in a photo of the two of them with the caption: Gaming

marathonwithmybro.Nodistractions,justdrinks.Toolate.Hewishedhecouldpullouthisphoneand
callJulianneagain,askforawaytogetoutofthisminefieldhe’dwalkedrightinto.

When it took him too long to respond, Melissa’s chair scraped against the floor. He heard her

standupandstompovertothemazeofbookshelvestotheirright.

Shouldheorshouldhenotfollowher?Hescratchedthebackofhisneckashemulledoverthe

question.Hecouldstandupandwalkoutofthislibraryrightnow,forgetaboutMelissaandthefactthat
shenowhadthepowertohurthim.Itwouldbesoeasy.

Orhecouldstandup,followherintotheshelves,andtrustthatevenifshehadthepowertohurt

him,shewouldn’t.

Hetoldheroncethathedidn’twanttobethepersonwhowalkedawaywhenthingsgothard.It

wastimetokeephisword.

Hefoundherhuncheddownonthefloorbetweenshelvesfullofmoldytextbooks.Melissahugged

herknees,herlowerliptremblingfromtheeffortoftryingnottocry.Lanceclenchedhishandsintofists
atthesightofher.He,nooneelse,haddonethistoher.Itdawnedonhimthathehadthepowertohurt
her,too.

Lance slid down to the floor beside her, leaving a respectable distance between them in case

someone walked by. Unable to stop himself anymore, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers
throughhers.Hehopedhestillhadtherighttodothat.

“Thisisgoingtomakemesoundlikeacompletedick,butIwantedtoseeifyouweregoingto

contactmefirst,”Lancefinallysaid.

Shesniffed.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“IguessIwastestingyou.”Hehadnoideahowtocontinue.Howcouldhepossiblyexplainwhat

he’dbeenlikebeforesheburstintohislifeandsuckedhiminlikeavacuum?Beforehehadanyideawhat
somebodyreallycatchinghisattentionwaslike?“I’mnotusedtolikingsomeonemore.You’veheardthe
rumorsaboutme.Someofthemareactuallytrue.”

Melissa didn’t say anything for a heart-stopping minute. She stared down at their intertwined

handsandsighed.“Hearingrumorsandrealizingthey’retruearetwocompletelydifferentthings.”

“Ican’tchangewhoIwasbeforeyoucamealong,”Lancesaid.“Iwantto,butIcan’t.Ifyou’ve

changedyourmindaboutme,youcansayso.”

Itwouldhurtlikehell,butshecouldsayso.
Atearrolleddowntherightsideofhercheek.Hebrusheditawaywithhisthumb.Theystaredat

eachotherforwhatfeltlikealifetimebutmust’veonlybeenafewseconds.Melissablinkedupathimas
iffullytakinghiminforthefirsttime,therealLanceclashingwiththeideashe’dbuiltinherheadduring
thepastcoupleofweeks.

“Camwasright.”Abrittlesmiletookoverherfeatures.
Lancedidn’tknowwhethertofeelrelievedorworried.“Aboutwhat?”
“This. Us.” She motioned at the two of them. “She said going out with you wasn’t going to be

easy.”

“Doesthatmeanyou’vechangedyourmind?”
Thebloodinhisveinsturnedice-coldwhensheslippedherfingersoutofhisgrasp.Heshould’ve

knownthiswascoming,should’veknownthiswasnevergoingto—

Melissacuppedhischinandturnedhisheaduntiltheywerefacingeachother.Sheblinkedupat

him,lashesstillwetfromhertears.Once.Twice.“Let’sspendtheweekendtogether,okay?”

ChapterFifteen

TheteddybearsatonthebottomofMelissa’sfloralbackpack,likeagrenadeawaitingitsturntowreak
havocontheworld.Shedidn’tevenknowwhatpossessedhertobuyitforLanceinthefirstplace.

Well,shedid,butshewasn’tadmittingitoutloud.
Atleast,notanytimesoon.
The teddy bear caught her attention when she was at the mall with Cam, because it hugged a

woodencylinderwithenoughspaceforasecretmessageortwoinsideit.GivingittoLancehadseemed
likeagreatideaatfirst.Now,itsoundedstupid.

“Anyplanstotellmewherewe’regoing?”Lancesaidwhenthecarslowedtoastopunderneatha

redlight.

Itwasstrange.She’dkissedhimandcouldrunherfingersthroughhismessyhaireverytimeshe

wanted,butthesightofhimstillhadthepowertoscrambleherbrain.

Melissa’slipspulledupatthecornerstoformasecretsmile.Sheshookherheadandsmoothed

downthehemofthelightblueskirtthatfellinchesaboveherknees.

She’dcarefullyplannedeverydetailofthisday.Fromthewhiteshirtwithapeterpancollarshe

woretothebrochuresheclutchedinherrighthand.Goodthingshemanagedtohideitunderthepassenger
seatbeforehenoticed.

“Givemesomethingtoworkwithhere,”Lanceproddedwhensherefusedtosayanything.
His hands were firm and strong around the steering wheel, and suddenly, she remembered what

Camsaidaboutguysandtheirhands.Lancedefinitelylookedskilledwithhis.

Hopinghercheeksweren’tbrightred,shepretendedtosigh,liketheywerebackinclassandhe

waskickingthebackofherchairagain.“Martialarts.”

“What?”
“It’syourfirstclue.”
Henarrowedhiseyesatherbeforeheresumeddrivingagainsincethelighthadalreadychanged.

“Ihaveabadfeelingaboutthis,likeyou’retakingmetosomesecretwarehousesoyoucouldhaveyour
waywithme.”

“Comfyseats.”
Thistime,hecouldn’tstophimselffromwagglinghiseyebrowsather.“LikeIsaid,youclearly

wanttohaveyourwaywithme.”

“You’reimpossible.”
“Ithinkyoumeanirresistible.”
Insteadofrollinghereyesathimlikeheexpected,shesurprisedthebothofthembysaying,“That,

too.”

The grin that took over his face, bright and almost blinding, was worth the discomfort being so

bluntcausedher.Hecouldn’thideitnomatterhowmuchhetriedtoplayitcool.

Beforehecoulddriveoffinanotherdirection,shepointedstraightaheadwheretheroadledtoa

bankwithatiny,little-knowntheatercalledCinemathequeacrossthestreet.SheandLanceweregoingto
themovies.

Instead of fancy blockbusters like the cinemas at the mall, the place showed foreign films with

subtitles and indie films from the local scene free of charge or for a small fee. There were only a few

seats, ones that were purchased from an old theater that closed a long time ago. They couldn’t bring
popcornorsodasinside,sotheycouldforgotaboutsharingbutterpopcorninthedark.

ButitwastheclosestthingtoanormaldateMelissacouldgiveLance,consideringallthehiding

theyhadtodobecauseshewassoscaredoftellingherfatheraboutthem.

She had a feeling he was going to hate it as he jogged across the front of the car to open the

passengersidedoorforher.

“Whatisthisplace?”heasked,leadingthewaytowardtheentrance.
Beforetheycouldstepinside,Melissagrabbedhisarmanddraggedhimunderneaththeawningof

anotherbanknexttothetheater.Sheexhaledandfacedhim.

“This place is called Cinematheque.” Melissa shoved the now-wrinkly brochure into his hands.

“They’rehavingaChinesefilmfestival,andifwegoinrightnow,wecouldgetprettygreatseats.”

“Martial arts and comfy seats.” Lance stared down at the brochure listing the movies that were

going to be shown in the next couple of hours, his expression unreadable. “I have to say I’m
disappointed.”

“Ifyou’renotintoit,wecango—”
Hisgazeddarteduptohers.“Don’tgetmewrong.I’mdisappointed,becauseIreallythoughtyou

were going to have your way with me. But”—he looked down at the brochure—“Bodyguards and
Assassinsisupnext,anditsoundsincredible.WheredoIsignup?”

Forgettingthattheywereinpublicandthatwordcouldgetbacktoherfather,Melissajumpedup

andwrappedherarmsaroundLance’sneckwithaloud,overexcitedsqueal.Hedidn’tevenhesitate,his
armsfindingtheirwayaroundherwaistandpullinghercloseinaflash.Herheadfitrightunderhischin.
Theyweresoclosethatshecouldfeelhisheartbeatspeedup.

Thisboywasunravelingherinthebestwayimaginable.
Whenshedrewbackfromhim,sheslowlyranherfingersoverhisface,likeshehadallthetime

intheworld.“Youhadmenervousthereforasecond.”

“Mel,”Lancestarted,reachinguptograbthehandcurrentlytracinghischeekbones,“Ireallydon’t

careifwe’regoingtowatchBodyguardsandAssassinshereorsomeromanticcomedyinacinemafullof
people.AslongasI’mwithyou,theplaceortimedoesn’tmatter.Especiallyifyouintendtohaveyour
waywithme.”

Hesaidthelastpartwithalasciviouswink,andshecouldn’thelpbutlaugh.Withhisarmdraped

acrosshershoulders,theywalkedintoCinemathequetogether.

***
TheywerebackinthealleybehindtheChineseprivateschool.Thistime,theyheldcola-flavored

SlurpeesintheirhandsinsteadofhamburgersfromMcDonald’s.Melissaslippedherfeetoutofhergold
flatsandturnedtofaceLance,curlingherfeetunderher.Unabletoresist,hetookasipofhisSlurpeeand
facedheraswell.

“So…”shestarted.
“So?”
“Didyoulikethemovie?”
Helikedhermore.Hewantedtoreachoutandrunhisthumboverthebottomlipshewascurrently

biting.“Itwasawesome.Ididn’texpectanythingsofilledwithhistoricalfactscouldbe,youknow,fun.
HowdidyoufindoutaboutCinemathequeanyway?”

“Camactuallydiscoveredit.”Somethinglitupinhereyesatthementionofherbestfriend.“She’s

asuckerfordepressingforeignfilmswithmoodyweatherandlotsofnudity.It’snotreallymything.”

“What is your thing?” he asked and proceeded to gesture down his body. “Aside from me, of

course.”

Shelaughed.Knowinghecoulddothattoherfeltgood.“Ilikeplayingtheukulele,andyoucan

probablytellIlikegirlythingslikefloralsandpastels.ButI’mnotlikeCam.Iwanttobeateacher,but
I’mnotsureifit’sapassionthat’sgoingtodrivemefortherestofmylife.MaybeIhaven’tfigureditout
yet.”

“We’re graduating soon, so you should probably think about it.” Lance stopped and decided to

backtrack.Whathesaidsoundedsocondescending.

Melissawasn’toffended,though,onlyalittlesurprised.Hebegantowonderifheshouldbethe

oneoffended.

SheputherSlurpeedownonthedashboardandwidenedhereyesathim.“Thisissoweird.You

have a life plan, and I don’t. It’s like I found out that grapes are a vegetable, and I’ve loved them this
wholetime.”

“I’ve always had a life plan,” Lance said. “Take over our construction company. Make it even

bigger.That’sit.”

Theideaoftakingoverthefamilybusinessashisfatherexpectedwassupposedtochafeathim,

he knew, like he’d been robbed of getting the chance to decide his future for himself. Surprisingly, he
likedtheideasomuchheevenspentthelastcoupleofsummersworkingwiththeconstructioncrew.He
enjoyedgettinghishandsdirtymorethanthenumberssideofthebusiness,buthewantedtobeexcellent
atallofit.Itwaschallengingandeasyatthesametime.

Understanding dawned in Melissa’s eyes. “That’s why you knew how to paint the walls during

weekenddetention.”

“Youcan’trunaconstructioncompanywithoutknowinghowtobuildahouse,”hesaid,histone

wry.

He could tell a thousand questions were on the tip of her tongue, but she continued to sit there,

silently eyeing him like he’d sprouted an extra head. Things were getting weird, so he said, “You’re
imaginingmehammeringnailsallsweatyandshirtless,aren’tyou?Icantell.”

Tohisgreatsurprise,shedidn’tprotest.Sheevenraisedahandandmotionedoverhisbody.“Just

surprisedyoudidn’tgetyourprettyboymusclesatthegym.”

Helaughedoutloud.Herealizedhelikedknowingshecoulddothattohim,too.Unabletostop

himselfanymoreandnotseeingareasontocontinuedoingso,LancereachedforMelissa.Heplaceda
handaroundthebackofhernecktodrawhercloser.Asighescapedherlipswhenhesmoothedhisthumb
overtheskinbelowherear.Shedidn’tresistandeveninchedforwardonherown.

Hisphonebeganringingasheleaneddowntoconnecthislipstohers.
Talkabouttiming.
“What?” Lance barked into the phone after grabbing it from where he’d left it earlier on the

dashboard.

“That’sanicewaytogreetyourbelovedoldersister.”
Heclosedhiseyesandsighed,makingsureJuliannehearditallthewayinAustralia.Heloved

hissister;hereallydid.Sometimes,though,hewishedhecouldteleporthimselfallthewaytoherflatand
ducttapehermouthshut.Orherhands.Thatway,shewouldn’tbeabletointerruptthebeginningofwhat
wassurelygoingtobeanepicmakeoutsession.

“Juls,I’dbehappytotalktoyoubutnotnow.”Herubbedhisfacewithonehandasifthatwould

makethingsbetter.

“Oh,wereyoutakinggymselfiesagain?Whathasyousobusythatyoucan’teven—”
His sister stopped speaking so abruptly that she had him worried. “Are you still there? What’s

goingon?”

“You’rewithher,aren’tyou?”ThepureenjoymentinJulianne’svoicescaredhim.Heknewthe

extentofthemockeryhissisterwascapableof.“Putheronthephone.Iwanttotalktoher.”

Lancedidn’tevenhavetothinkaboutit.“You’recrazy.No.”
“Give your girlfriend the phone, or I’m uploading the photo of you in your panda onesie from

whenwewerelittle.I’mnotevenjoking.”

Itwasn’tanemptythreat.Hefoundandrippedaparttheoriginalcopyofthesaidphotoalongtime

ago,butnotbeforeJuliannemanagedtomakeadigitalcopy.Hemadesuresheheardhimsighonemore
timebeforehehandedthephoneovertoMelissa.“Mysisterwantstotalktoyou.”

Shehesitatedatfirst,butshegrabbedthephone.“Hello?ThisisMelissa.”
Lancesatbackandwatched.Forsomereason,knowingshewastalkingtohissistermadeawarm

feelingbubbleupandspreadalloverhischest.Twoofthemostimportantpeopleinhislifeweretalking
toeachother.Itwasstrangelyawesome.

Hedidn’tevenhavetoquestionifJuliannewouldlikeMelissa.Hissisterhadlikedthegirlsitting

in the passenger the second he said he was having trouble winning her over. The image of the three of
themhavingdinnerattheVietnameserestaurantJulianneloveddowntownfilledhisheadallofasudden.
They’d eat pad thai, drink a pitcher of lemonade with cucumber slices floating inside it, and Melissa
wouldenjoywatchinghissistermakehimmiserable.

Itsoundedlikethebestthinghecouldeverimagine.
But he was getting ahead of himself. Julianne wouldn’t be home in another six months, and

Melissa was still so scared of her father that they couldn’t even sit down and eat at a restaurant like
other…normalcouples.Heglancedoveratherandwonderedifhehadtherighttocallherhisgirlfriend.
They’dnevertalkedaboutit,andhedidn’tdareaskherincaseheranswerhurttoomuch.

Whenhesawhergigglingintothephone,hebegantosweat.
WhatwasJuliannetellingher?
Hehopedhissisterwasn’tsharingembarrassingstoriesfromtheirchildhood,especiallythatone

timehetookoffallhisclothes,tiedawashclotharoundhiswaist,andjumpedoffthetablewhenhewas
five,earningaconcussionintheprocess.He’dwantedtobeTarzan.Whocouldblamehim?

“Idefinitelyagreewithyou.”Melissanodded,stillsmiling.“Hedoesdothatalot.”
“Okay,that’senough.”Heswipedthephoneoutofherhandsandspokeintoit.“Juls,ifyoutold

hertheTarzanstory,Iswearyou’llfindyourselfwakingupwithouteyebrowswhenyougethome.”

Julianneonlylaughed.“WillIgettomeetherthen?”
His grip tightened on the phone. He knew what she was asking. Was Melissa still going to be

aroundbythetimeJuliannegothome?Hewantedhertobe,butitwasalluptoher.Shewastheonewho
hadthefinalsayinallofthis,becauseasfarashewasconcerned,hewasn’tgoinganywhereelse.

Therewasnowhereelsetogo.Thiswasitforhim.
“Ihopeso,”wasallhecouldsay.

ChapterSixteen

“AreyouandCamgoingouttonight?”

ThespoonfulofricepausedhalfwaytoMelissa’sopenmouth.Shelookedupatherfatherwhosat

attheheadofthetable.Heworethehorn-rimmedglasseshe’dgottenthedaybefore.

Sheknewhewasn’tyoungwhenhehadher,butithadneveroccurredtoherthathecouldbeso

old,either.Theglasseswereaglaringreminder,drawinghereyestothegrayinghaironhistemples.The
thoughtmadesomethingnastytwistinherstomach.

Guiltmaybe.
Hopingherfatherhadn’tnoticedtheshakinessofherhands,shedroppedherspoononherplate

andfistedherhandsunderthediningtable.Itwasasimplequestion.Sheshouldnodandsayyes,butthe
lumpinherthroatpreventedherfromdoingso.

“Didyouhearme,Mel?”heproddedwhenshefailedtorespond.
“Yes,we’regoingoutagaintonight,”Melsaid,keepinghereyesgluedtoaspotoverhisshoulder.

The‘we’inquestionwasherandLance,butitwasaminordetail,right?

“Whereareyougoing?”Itwashermotherthistime.
Theyallsateatingrice,sautéedshrimps,andcrabmeatfordinner.Ifherfatherknewwhenshelast

ateseafood,he’dhaveaheartattackandkeeloverthetable.

She cleared her throat. “One of our classmates invited us to a party. Since this is our last year,

CamandIthoughtweshouldmakethemostofit.”

“Well,Ithinkit’sgreatthatyou’relivinginthemoment.Youwon’tbeinhighschoolforeverafter

all,Mel,”hermothersaidwithasmile.

Melissa tried to smile back. When it became quite difficult, she forced the rest of her face to

cooperate.Camhadsaidthatlyingwouldgeteasierovertime,butshewaswrong.Itgotharderwitheach
onepilingontopoftheonebeforeit.Shewouldgettangledinherwebandtripsoonenough;shewas
sureofit.

“Justdon’toverdoit.”herfatherpushedhisglassesuphisnose,thelookinhiseyesmakinghis

meaningclear.You’realreadyenoughofadisappointment.“Enjoyingyourselfisallwellandgood,but
don’tletyourselfbedistractedfromyourpriorities.Collegeentranceexamsarecomingupsoon,andyou
betterstartpreparingforthat.I’msureyou’llgetintoanyschoolyouwant—”

Sherestrainedherselffromrollinghereyes,knowingwhatwascomingnext.
“—ifyouonlyapplyyourself.”
“What’swrongwithhavingalittlefun?”ThewordsstampededoutofMelissa’smouth.
Herfather’sglassofwaterpausedonthewaytohismouth.“Whatdidyousay?”
Shegulpeddowntherestofthethingsshewantedtosayoutloud.“Nothing,Pa.”
Underthetable,hernailsdugintoherpalm.Sheknewhemeantwell,butsometimes,shewished

he’dstoppushingsohardandletherbe.Betheaveragestudentinthemiddleoftheclassranking.Bethe
quietgirlwhonevergotnominatedforclasspresident.BewithLance.

Ifherfatherthoughtgoingtoonepartywasadistraction,shedidn’twanttoknowwhathe’dthink

ofwhateverwasgoingonbetweenherandLance.Hewasbetteroffnotknowinguntil…shehadtheguts
toownuptohim.

Assoonasdinnerwasover,sheescapedtoherroom.WhensheandLanceagreedtospendthe

weekend together, she got to decide that they were going to Cinematheque on Friday, so it was his turn
tonight.Apparently, according tohis text messageearlier, they were goingto a partyat Jace’s house. It
was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. She liked the idea of getting dolled up and going
somewherewithLance,butthatsomewhereinvolvedotherpeoplefromtheirschool.

Hesworethey’dkeepthingsdiscreet.
Andshetrustedhim,didn’tshe?
Aftertakingashower,shetuckedhersleevelesspeachblouseintoapairofhigh-waistshortsand

slipped on her trusty gold flats. Slipping a matching gold headband through her hair, she stared at her
reflection in the mirror. Casual-but-not-too-try-hard. The same could be said about her makeup—BB
creamslatheredalloverherface,subtlydefinedbrows,andpinklipgloss.Shewasstilldebatingwith
herself whether to bring a cardigan or not when her mother yelled from downstairs that her ride had
arrived.

Withoutenoughtimetodecide,shestuffedthecardiganinsideherbag.Hermotherstoodwaiting

forheratthefootofthestairs.

“I’llbehomebeforecurfew.”Melissastoodontiptoetogiveherakissonthecheek.
“I’llholdyoutothat.”Shereachedupandstraightenedhernow-askewheadband.“Andlistento

yourfather,okay?Youknowhemeanswell.”

Foronesecondthatseemedtolastforever,Melissafounditimpossibletolookhermotherinthe

eye.Itwaseasiertolietoherfather,becausetohim,meaningwellwassynonymouswithsuffocatingher.

ButMa’sanentirelydifferentstory.
Shedidn’tknowwhattosayorwheretoevenbegin,soshemerelywrappedherarmsaroundher

mother.“I’llcallyouwhenIgetthereandbeforeIleave.”

“Nomore,noless.”
Hermotherwalkedherouttothefrontdoor.Cam’sfather’scar,agraySportivo,idledbythecurb.

When they were close enough to hear, the window on the passenger side rolled down and Cam’s face
peekedout.

“I’llhaveherhomebeforecurfew,Mrs.Ortiz!”Camsaidwithagrin.
Melissa got inside the car, setting her bag beside her on the backseat. She greeted Cam’s father

whowasdrivingthemtothepartyandletherbestfriend’sexcitedchatterfillthesilence.Shewantedto
beagoodfriendandlisten,buthermindwastoobusytopayattention.

Whilestandingwithhermotherbythefrontdoor,Melissaletherselfimagineforabriefsecond

whatitwouldbelikeifLance’scarhadshownuptopickherup.Sheletherselfpicturehimsteppingout
of the car with the biggest bouquet of daisies anyone had ever seen. He’d manage to charm her mother
withhisprettyfaceandsmoothnessandwhiskherawaytoapartywheretheycouldholdhandsnomatter
whosawthem.Itwaswonderful.

Andstupid.Wishfulthinkingneverdidheranygood.
***
MaybeMelissachangedhermindaboutcomingtotheparty.
Lancewalkeddownthestairs,handsinthepocketsofhisjeans.Hesurveyedthethrongofpeople

crowdingaroundtheluxuriouslivingroom.Fourgirlssatonthecouch,theirheadsbobbingtotherhythm
of the bubblegum pop song blaring from the speakers behind them. Some people huddle together and
talkedandlaughedamongthemselves.Somewerefamiliarfaces,somehehadneverlaideyesonbefore.
Thehousewasburstingwithhormone-filledteenagers.

HespottedJacestandinginthecenterofitall.Hisbestfriendwassurroundedbytheirbasketball

teammates,andhenoddedandsmiledattheappropriatemoments.Hiseyes,however,weregluedtothe

antiquevaseprecariouslyperchedonashelfaboywascurrentlyleaningon.Lancecouldn’tholdbackhis
grin.Deepdown,Jacewasabouttohaveacoronary.

“Well,ifitisn’tMr.LifeofthePartyhimself.”Afamiliar-lookingboyranuptohimthesecondhis

feethitthegroundfloor.Theboyhelduphishand.

“Hey.”Lancehigh-fivedhimwithoutthinkingtwiceaboutit.
Lancewasgoodatmingling.Itwassomethingthatcamenaturallytohim,slidingacrossthecrowd

and always saying the right thing. He nodded at the girls on the couch and shook his head when they
titteredintogiggles.Smoothandcharming,thatwasLance.Ontheoutside,atleast.Ashehigh-fived,fist-
bumped,nodded,andgreetedmoreandmorepeoplewhosefacessoonblurredintoafacelessmass,his
eyescontinuedtosearchthecrowdforher.

HefoundMelissainthekitchen.
His lungs did something funny the second he saw her leaning against the counter, whispering

conspiratoriallyintoCam’sear.Theysomehowforgothowtofunctionproperly,howtopumpairinand
outofhisbody.

ThatHunterguy,theonewhowasinthestupidrockband,could’vewrittenashittonofcheesy

lyricsaboutthewayMelissalookedtonight.AndLance?Hecouldn’teventhinkofasinglethingtosay,
exceptthatshewasmorethanbeautiful.Always.Itwasn’tjustherfacewhichbecameprettierthemorehe
lookedatit,butitwasher…everythingelse.

Melissaglancedupandsawhimstandinginthedoorwaylikesomesortofmoron.Heswepthis

gazeawayfromhersandpretendedtosurveythekitchen.Thegiganticfridge.Themarblecounters.The
big-asssinkthatlookedlikeithadn’tbeenusedinyears.Hisgazesoonmadehiswaysbacktohers.She
was still staring at him from across the room. A little smile lit up her eyes while the rest of her face
remainedthesame.

Itwarmedhim,thefactthathecouldsensethatsmileinhereyes.Itprovedthatheknewherbetter

thantheotherpeopleinthisburstinghouse.

Hewantedtowalkuptoher,tossanarmaroundhershoulder,andpullhercloseinfrontofall

thesepeople.Butthesepeoplewerenowwitnesses,mostofthemstudentsintheschoolwhereherfather
wastheprincipal.

LykastoodwithherfriendsonlyafewmetersawayfromMelissa.Thiswasgoingtobeawkward.
HiseyesflewtothekitchendoorwayasKyraGustilo,thebiggestgossipinSaintAgnesCatholic

Academy,walkedthroughit.Ifsheevernoticedanythingstrangegoingonbetweenhimandsomegirl,the
newswouldbeallovertheschoolbyMondaymorning.

Lancedidn’tknowwhethertoshakehisheadorburyhisfaceinhishandsinfrustration.Forthe

first time since this whole thing between them started, an ache began to spread through his chest at not
beingabletoshowthesepeopleMelissawashis.

Thathewashers.
He ripped his eyes away from hers and walked over to the open coolers scattered all over one

counterandgrabbedabeer.Hereyesburnedintothebackofhishead,andheabsentlyscratchedhisneck
towardawaythesensation.Witheachpassingsecond,hefoundhimselfgettingangrier.Whenheturned
around,hefoundthatLuisHernandez,Jace’scousinwhograduatedtheyearbefore,hadjoinedMelissa
andCam.Hisholdtightenedonthecoldbeerbottleinhishand.Luiswasadouchebag,especiallyinthe
backwardsballcaphewasrockingtonightlikehethoughthewasKobeBryant.

No,hewasn’tjustadouchebag.
Hewasatotaldouchebag.
Atoolofepicproportions.

Lance brought the beer bottle to his mouth and chugged down half its contents, his eyes on Luis

andthewayheflirtedwithMelissathewholetime.Beforehecouldeventhinkandberational,hebegan
towalktowardthem.Mr.LifeofthePartyfromafewminutesbeforehaddecidedtohibernate,andthis
personhebarelyrecognizedstoodinhisplace.

“Youknow,Iusedtoseeyouasthissnobbygoodgirl,”heheardLuissayoncehewasinearshot.

“Whoeverthoughtyou’dlookthishotallgrownup?”

Lancegotevenangrier,ifthatwasevenpossible.Melissawasn’thot.Shewassomuchmorethan

that. He placed his half-empty beer bottle on the counter and continued stalking over to them. A hand
landedonhisshoulderandpulledhimback.

“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”Jace’svoiceranginhisears,catapultinghimbacktoreality.
“AmIsupposedtogrinandbearitwhileyourcousinhitsonmygirlfriend?”Lancegrowled.
“Technically, she isn’t your girlfriend, but I’ll let that one slide.” Jace’s fingers dug into his

shoulder.“Secondly,areyoureadytoleteveryoneknowaboutyouandMelissa?Imean,whatelsewould
peoplethinkwhenyoupunchLuisbecausehetalkedtoher?”

Jacewasright,butthatdidn’tmeanLancehadtolikeit.Heshruggedoffhisbestfriend’sgripand

grabbed his drink again. When he was about to walk out of the kitchen, a giggly voice announced,
“Everyone,let’splaytruthordare!”

Tonight was not his night. Lance closed his eyes and sighed. Inviting Melissa to this party had

seemedlikeagreatideawhenthey’dbeentogetherintheprivacyofhiscar.Itwashischancetoshow
himthatwhatheandhisfriendsdidforfunwasn’tsobad.Maybeafterwards,she’dfinallychangeher
mindandhavethegutstotellherfatherthat,yes,theywereinfacttogether.Dating.Whatevershewanted
tocallit.

He was wrong. Inviting Melissa to Jace’s party was an even worse idea than attempting to stay

awayfromher.

***
Thisisjustagame,MelissatoldherselfoverandoverasStanleyFerrergulpeddownabottleof

beerasquicklyashumanlypossible.Anincrediblystupidgame,butagamenonetheless.

Surprisingevenherself,sherealizedshedidn’twanttobeanywhereelse.Shewasfinewhereshe

was, sitting cross-legged on the floor of a foreign living room while surrounded by a bunch of her
classmates, her best friend, and her secret sort-of-not-really boyfriend. Across the circle they’d all
somehowformed,shemetLance’seyesandcouldn’thelpthelittlegrinthatformedonherface.

He looked even more gorgeous tonight in a maroon V-neck shirt with sleeves that hugged his

biceps.HowwasitpossibleforanyonetolooklikethatinaplainT-shirt?Itwasenoughtomakeagirl
swoononceortwice.

Their eyes quickly broke apart when their circle burst into, loud ecstatic cheers. Stanley had

managedtodrinktheentirebottleofRedHorseinlittlemorethanaminute.Theyalllaughedwhenhis
facebegantoturnthesameshadeasLance’sT-shirt,andhehadtoholdontothegirlnexttohim.Winning
thegamewasn’talwayseverything.

“My turn!” Mara Cortez, a giggly girl from their school, squealed. She grabbed the empty soda

bottle they’d been using from the middle of the circle, her eyes leaping from one face to another with
mischieftwinklinginthem.Sheplacedthebottleinthecenterofthecircleagainandpusheditforward
withthetipofafinger.Itbegantospin.

Theireyesallstayedgluedtothebottleasitsspinningslowed.ItalmoststoppedonJace,butit

cametoarealhaltpointingtothepersonnexttohim.Lyka,Lance’sex-girlfriend.

Ice trickled down Melissa’s spine as Mara clapped her hands in delight. She didn’t like where

thisgamewasgoing.Atall.

Shehadlikedbeingatthepartywellenough,butallofasudden,shefoundherselfwishingshe

was back in her room with her ukulele within reach. The cardigan in her bag next to her seemed to be
calling her, emphasizing her cluelessness in how to act in Lance’s world, among the people he called
friends.

“Truthordare,Lyka?”Acanary-eatingsmilestretchedMara’slips.
Undaunted, Lyka leaned back—cool, calm, the picture of utter confidence. She smiled back.

“Dare.”

Melissa had always liked Lyka. She was the girl everyone wanted, especially with the mole on

hercheekthatmadeherlooklikea90ssupermodel.Iftheyhadbeengiventhechancetospendmoretime
together,shesometimesthoughttheymight’veevenbeenfriends.

But she envied Lyka’s freedom to be with Lance at that moment. Out in the open. Without being

scaredofwhatherfathermightthink.

MaraaimedaFrench-manicuredfingeratLyka.“Idareyouto”—herfingerswervedinLance’s

direction—“makeoutwithyourex-boyfriend.”

Regretfloodedherentirebeing.Nomatterhowmuchshetried,therewasnowayshecouldstop

whatwasabouttounfoldbeforeher.UnlessshegotenoughgutstocomerightoutandclaimLance,say
thathewashersandthatshe’dhadenoughofthisstupidgame.

She couldn’t. The words remained rooted to the tip of her tongue, and she could only swallow

themasLancewatchedherfromacrossthecircle.Hisexpressionwreckedher.

Thehopeonhisfacetoldhereverythingsheneededtoknow.Hewasrootingforhertostandup

for him, for them. Watching the hope fade from his face, the regret roiling in her stomach morphed into
shame.Itwasenoughtodrownoutthecheersfromeveryoneelse.

Inhermind,shecouldpicturethingssoclearly.Shewouldstandup,braveandproud,andwalkup

tothecenterofthecircle.“Lykacan’tkissLance,becausehe’smine.Hehasbeenforawhile,”shewould
say.

Herlegssomehowneverfoundthestrengthtostandup.Instead,itwasLykawhostoodup,walked

overtoLance,andkneltdowninfrontofhim.

“Hey,you.”Lyka’svoicerangthroughoutthecircle.
Cam’s hand found hers and squeezed. Melissa glanced at her best friend and clearly read the

messageinhereyes.Don’twatch.

Butitwastoolate.Nonaturaldisaster,miracle,orsupernaturalphenomenoncould’vemadeher

lookawayfromthesightofLyka’sfingerscurlingaroundthemiddleofLance’sshirtasshepulledhim
closer. Nothing could’ve made her rip her eyes away from the sight of another girl pulling the boy she
loved—yes, loved, she realized belatedly—in for a kiss that should’ve been hers in the first place.
Absolutelynothing.

Shecouldn’tlookawayuntilhervisionblurred.Herhandflewuptohercheek,andsheblinkedin

surprisewhenshediscovereditwaswetwithtears.Suddenly,shecouldn’tlookanymore.Thispartyand
theboywho’doncegivenherabeautifuldresswithcloudsonitlikeapromise.Itwasalltoomuch.

Shestoodupandblindlypushedherwaythroughthethrobbingcrowdofpeopleshebarelyeven

knew.

“Mel!”Cam’svoicecalledfrombehindher.
Shedidn’tstopuntilshefoundherselfinthekitchenandpushedtheclosestdooropen.Itledtothe

backyard,andMelissafoundherselffacingafountain,amaidencarryingavasewithwaterburstingoutof
it.Sheblinkedupatthestarsinthenightskyassheremindedherselftobreathe.

Arms—strong,warm,andfamiliar—wrappedthemselvesaroundherandpushedherbackagainst

Lance’schest.Shedidn’tknowwhenorhow,butbeingwithhimlikethisbecameaseasyasbreathing.He
washers.Shewashis.Itwasthatsimpleandcomplicated.

“Icouldn’tdoit,”Lancewhispered,hisarmstighteningaroundher.“Notwithyoulookingatme

likethat.”

With each movement creating a fissure on her already damaged heart, Melissa slowly pulled

Lance’sarmsawayfromherandfacedhim.Shetriedtolookhimintheeyebecausesheowedhimthat
much,buthereyesfoundtheirwaytothegroundinstead.Staringdownathergoldflats,shesaid,“People
cansee.”

“Idon’tcare,”Lancesaidwithavehementshakeofhishead.“Notanymore.”
Hisarmsbegantoreachforher,butshesteppedawayfromhimwhileshestillcould.“Don’t.”
“Don’twhat?ShowpeoplethatI’mcrazyaboutyou?”Lancereachedforheragain,andthistime,

Melissacouldn’thelpherself.Shelethisfingersmakehiswaythroughherhair,shiveringunderhistouch.
“BecauseIam,incaseyoudidn’tknow.”

Oh,hecouldsoeasilyunravelherwithasimpletouch,acarefullyplacedworld.
“Iwanttoeaticecreamwithyoulikethatcouplewesawonourfirstdate.”Lance’seyesbore

intoherfaceanddugdeeperintoherwitheachword.“Iwanttositnexttoyouatthelibrary,watching
likeacreepwhileyoudoyourhomework.Iwanttobeabletoputmyarmaroundyouandtellpeople
you’remineatmybestfriend’sparty.Don’tyouwantthat,Mel?”

Shewantedthat,too.
Allofit.
Hehadnoideahowdesperatelyshewantedit.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her phone began to ring. Sighing, she pulled it out of the

pocketofhershortsandstareddownatthecaller.Itwasherfather.

Realitycamecrashingbackalongwithallthereasonswhytheydecidedtokeepthingsbetween

themasecretinthefirstplace.

Lancehadobviouslyhadenoughofit.Hiseyeshardenedashesawtheindecisionbleedingacross

herfeatures.Hisarmsdroppedawayfromher,andshebecamesoverycold.

“Answerit,”Lancesaid,glancingdownatthephoneinherhands.
Tellyourfatherwe’retogether.Tellhimyou’rewithmerightnow.
Ornot.
Thewordshungunspokenbetweenthem.Hewasn’tgoingtopushher,buthewasn’tgoingtosit

aroundwaitingforhertogrowabackboneeither.Thephonecontinuedtoringbetweenthemlikeaticking
timebomb.

Ifshewerebrave,shewouldanswerherfather’scallandtellhimeverythingaboutthewonderful

boystandinginfrontofherandhowmuchhewantedtomakeherbesomuchmorethanherself.

Butshewasn’tbrave.
Shewaseverythingbut.
Her conversation with her father from the day she and Lance got sent to the principal’s office

flashedinhermindlikeahighlightreel.

Thatboywalksaroundthisschoollikeheownsit,throwinghisfather’smoneyinallourfaces.

Doyoureallywanttobeassociatedwithsomeonelikethat?

Bad grades. Horrible reputation. Why does your name keep cropping up with his whenever I

talktoyourteachers?

StayawayfromLanceOrdonez,Mel.I’mtellingyouthisasyourfather,notyourprincipal.

MelissastaredupintoLance’seyesandsawthathereallywascrazyabouther.Everyfiberofher

beingbelievedit,andshefelttheexactsameway.Herfatherhadnoideahowhepretendedtobesickof
hisfriessohecouldgivethemtoher,howhechangedhisjerseynumbertoherbirthday,howhe’dmade
hersohappyinsomanylittleways.Herfatherdidn’tknowLancelikeshedid,butshecouldn’tbearto
disappointhiminthebiggestofways.

Sheansweredthephonecall.“Yes,Papa?”
“Whattimewillyoubehome,Mel?”Herfather’svoicesoundedoceansaway.“Doyouneeda

ridehome?”

“No, I’m fine. I…” Her eyes flew up to find Lance watching her. Hope and utter desperation

warredonhisface.Herthroatseizedupasallthethingsshewantedtosaycamerushingtothesurface.

Pa,I’minlovewithLanceOrdonez.
Ilovehim.
I’vebeenutterlycrazyabouthimsincehestolemyhomework.
“I…”shetriedagain.
“Youwhat?”heprodded.
Tearsbegantofillhereyesasthewordsrefusedtoleaveherthroat,clingingtightlytoherlackof

courage.Sheclosedhereyesandsaid,“Nothing.I’llbehomesoon.”

WhenMelissaopenedhereyes,Lancewasgone.

ChapterSeventeen

For Lance, basketball had always been easy, his body moving through the court with ease and the ball
movingthroughhishandslikeitwasapartofhim.

Nottoday,though.
Today,basketballrefusedtocooperate.
AsJacemanagedtostealtheballfromhimforthenthtimethatday,LancecouldfeelCoach'seyes

sinkingdeeperintothebackofhisheadlikeclaws.Heknewhewasinforthelectureofalifetimeafter
thepracticesessionended,andtherewasnothinghecoulddoaboutit.

"Head in the game, Ordonez!" Coach shouted from the sidelines, unable to control himself

anymore.Theredballcapperchedonhisheadcouldn’thidetheshockofsaltandpepperhairunderneath.

Thesoundofsneakerssqueakingandthuddingagainstthecourtfilledthegym.Fadingafternoon

lightfromtheupperwindowsstreameddownontheplayingboys.

Lance's hand flew up to wipe away some of the sweat dripping down his face. He tried to

internalizeCoach'swords.Itwasn'tworking.Hisheadwassomewherefar,faraway,probablystillatthe
partywhereMelissaflatoutrefusedtostandupforhim.

Hehatedthathe'dbecomethepersonhesworehe'dneverbe,someonewhowalkedawaywhen

thingsgottough.Hewishedheknewhowtotoethelinebetweenwalkingawayandholdingon,wished
thelinebetweenthetwowasclearer.Rightnow,itwasfuckinginvisible.

Fromthecornerofhiseye,hesawMelissawalkintothegym,Camtrailingafterher.Herhairwas

upinthemessybunhemissed,herBigDippermolesdrawinghiseyesin.Shewasradianttoday,freaking
effervescent,andnothinghadbeenmoredifficultinhislifethansittingbehindherinclassthewholeday
and not saying or doing a thing. His entire body turned into a rigid line, and he forgot that he was
supposedtobeblockingJacefrommakinganotheroneofhisannoyingthree-pointshots.

Don'tlookather.
Ifonlythewordswereaseasytofollowastheyweretothink.
The truth was, he'd been miserable after Melissa failed to tell her father about them, and he

walked out of the party like the sort of broken-hearted loser he used to laugh at. He spent the entire
Sunday dodging calls from Jace and his sister, listening to a The Weepies album Julianne left behind
before she left for Australia, and checking Melissa's profile like a pathetic stalker. Not his proudest
moments.

ButMelissawasinthegymnow,aplacethey'dagreedwasentirelyhisterritory.
Unabletostophimselfanymore,hisarmsloosenedtheirguardaroundJace,andheglancedinher

direction. Melissa sat on the bleachers with Cam next to her, and they were watching something on a
tablet.

Afurrowformedbetweenhisbrowsashiswholebodyturnedtowardher,likeshewasthesun

and he was a dumb plant straining for a bit of light. She was in the gym, his territory as previously
established,butshewasn'tevenlookingathim.Infact,shewaspretendinghedidn'texist.Wasthissome
newmethodoftorturehehadn'theardabout?

"Ordonez,thisisabasketballcourt,notagoddamnpark!Whatthehellareyoudoing?"Coach's

furiousvoicesnappedhimoutofthedepressedfoghe’dbeensuckedinto.

ThehopeLancehadbeennurturingallweekendsnappedandmorphedintosomethinguglyatthat

moment.

Hewasn’ttheguywhochasedafteragirlwhocouldn’teventellherownfatherabouthim,likehe

was dirty laundry she was ashamed of airing out in public. It pained him to think of the numerous girls
who’d begged him to let them introduce him to their parents, to show him off proudly to their friends.
Maybethiswaskarma.He’dsaidnotoallofthem,andnowhewastheonebegging.

Thiswasn’thim.HewasLanceOrdonez,andhewasdonewaitingforMelissatocomearound.
Hewasdone.Withallofit.
Lancewalkedoffthecourt,readytoapologizetoCoachbutfoundhimtalkingtotheprincipal’s

secretary. Glancing down at the slip of paper in his hand, Coach said, “Ordonez, go to the principal’s
office.Hewantstoseeyou.I’lltalktoyouafterwards.”

“Why?”
“Askhimwhenyougetthere,”Coachreplied,focusingontheplayersstillonthecourt.“Getback

hereasquicklyasyoucan.”

On his way to the locker room to grab a towel, Lance passed the bleachers. It was obvious

MelissaheardCoachsayherfatherwantedtoseehim,becausehereyesfollowedhimallthewaytothe
locker room entrance, pleading and wide. He knew what she was asking, and after everything, he was
willingtodoitforherasalastfavor.

HeevenchangedintoaspareT-shirt,becausehedidn’twanttofacetheprincipalwiththeman’s

daughter’sbirthdateemblazonedalloverhisjersey.Ashewalkedtowardtheprincipal’soffice,hetried
to figure out what Mr. Ortiz wanted to talk to him about. He hadn’t done anything particularly heinous
latelythatwouldwarrantanotherepiclecture.

The principal’s voice ushered him inside. When he closed the door behind him, Mr. Ortiz sat

behindhisdesk,glassesovereyesthatweresosimilartoMelissa’sitwasalmostpainful.

“Takeaseat,Mr.Ordonez.”Theprincipalmotionedtotheemptychairinfrontofhisdesk.
Lancetooktheofferedseat,astrangehurricaneofemotionsswirlingaroundinsidehim.Hehad

knownMr.OrtizsincehefirstbecameastudentatSaintAgnesCatholicAcademyattheageofseven.The
manhadbeenaconstantfigureinhislife,summoninghimwheneverhedidsomethingdisruptiveinclass
whichwasoftenandpresentinghimwithsportsmanshipawardsduringschoolceremonies.

Butnow,itwaslikehewasseeingtheprincipalthroughdifferenteyes.Melissawassoinaweof

herfatheranddideverythinginherpowertopleasehim,includingcrushingherownpersonalitytofitinto
themoldofPerfectDaughter.HesawMr.Ortizthroughhereyes,andhebecamefurious.Theangerflared
upinsidehim,andhehadtoclutchtheedgeofhisseattostophimselffromlunging.

“Howareyoudoingtoday,Mr.Ordonez?”Theprincipalpushedhisglassesfurtheruphisnose,

hiseyesonLancethewholetime.

Lancewasn’tinthemoodtoplaynice,notwhenhewasthisclosetoexploding.“WhyamIhere?”
“I respect that you want to do away with pleasantries, so we can get straight to the point.” Mr.

Ortiz leaned back and reached for the framed photograph on his desk, the one containing a photo of a
smilingMelissaduringtheirelementaryschoolgraduation.“Iwantedtospeaktoyoutodaynotasyour
principalbutasafather.”

The words ignited Lance’s anger even more. He swallowed, trying to keep his face carefully

blank.“Withallduerespect,Mr.Ortiz,Ihavenoideawhatyou’resaying.”

“I think you do.” Mr. Ortiz studied him with a calm air, but his eyes glittered with unexpressed

anger.“Apparently,youandmydaughterwenttothesamepartythisweekend,andcertainsourcessaw
youchasingafterher.”

“Youmeanpeoplegossipedaboutus?”Lancesaid,evenmanagingtoletoutalittlelaugh.

“Iunderstandthatyouhavetogetbacktopractice,soI’llmakethisquick.”Mr.Ordoneztwisted

the framed photograph in his hands until it faced Lance and laid it on the desk. It stood between them,
representing a divide that he could never hope to cross if this conversation was any indication. “My
daughterhasabrightfutureaheadofher,andIwouldhighlyappreciateitifyoustayedoutofit.”

“YouthinkI’mnotgoodenoughforher?Isthatit?”TheutterrageinsideLanceburnedbrighter

thanever,everysyllableoutoftheprincipal’smouthaddingfueltothefire.

“Yes,Ithinkyou’renotgoodenoughforher.”Mr.Ortiz’scollecteddemeanorwasgonenowas

thetemperheheldincheckbegantolacethroughhiswords.“Mydaughterisbeautiful,intelligent,and
kinderthanyoucouldcomprehend.Asherfather,frankly,Idon’tthinkanyone’sgoodenoughforher.But
morethanthat,Mr.Ortiz,Idisapproveofyou,becauseyou’regoingtohurther.Greatly.I’msureofit.”

Mr.Ortiz’swordshurtworse,becausetheyweretrue.Everypoisonoussyllable.
“WhetherIhurtherornot,hasiteveroccurredtoyouthatit’sMelissa’schoicetomake?”Abitter

laughburstoutofLance’smouthandexplodedbetweenthemlikedynamite.Hescratchedthebackofhis
head, making sure that he looked every bit the clueless playboy. “You know what, Mr. Ortiz? You’re
wasting your time. There’s no need to have this conversation. I did offer your daughter my heart on a
silverplatter,butshesliceditniceandthinbeforegivingitbacktome.”

Lancewould’vefoundthedisbeliefwrittenallovertheprincipal’sfeaturesfunnyifhewasn’tso

goddamnfurious.Heunclenchedhisfingersfromtheseatofhischairandstoodup.“Arewedone?”

Mr.Ortizmerelycontinuedtogapeathimwithwideeyes.
He decided not to wait for an answer and walked over to the door. With one hand on the

doorknob,hestoppedandwhirledaround.

Hewasn’tdonewiththisconversation.Notevenclose.Forwhathesupposedwasthelasttime,

LancelookedMr.Ortizintheeye,notasanotherstudent,butastheboywhowashopelesslyinlovewith
theman’sdaughter.

Alltheangerdrainedoutofhiminonefellswoop.Somethingburnedbehindhiseyes.
“EverythingyousaidaboutMelissa?Aboutherbeingbeautiful,intelligent,andkind?”Lancesaid,

hisvoicelow.“Pleasesaythosethingstohermoreoften.Sheneedstohearthemfromyou.Youhaveno
ideahowimportantyouropinionistoher.”

With that said, Lance gripped the doorknob and pulled the door open, wondering if maybe it

wasn’ttoolatetotransfertoanotherschool.

***
ColaSlurpeeinhand,Melissawalkedtoherusualtableat7-Eleven,theonebytheglasswallsso

she could people watch as much as she wanted. The cup suddenly felt too small in her hands, and she
tamped down the urge to hurl it against the wall, watch the Cola goodness splatter and slide down the
glass.

Throughoutherseventeenyearsofexistenceontheplanet,Melissahadfeltavarietyofemotions

where her father was concerned. Annoyance. Anxiety. Regret. Pure, unadulterated hero worship. But it
was the first time she hated him, felt the rage churning inside her like an underwater volcano about to
explode.

ShesatdownatthetableandstaredatherSlurpee,watchedthecondensationaroundthecupslide

downtothetablesurface.Herfatherhadafacultymeetingandwouldn'tbehomeinafewhours,while
hermotherhadleftheranotesayingsheneededtopickupsomeweekendessentialsatthegrocerystory.
So,Melissahadfoundherselfat7-Eleven,becausestayingintheirhousewhilethisuglyangertwisted
insideherwasunbearable.

The logical part of Melissa said her father meant well when he asked Lance to step inside his

office,thathewasonlyprotectingher,butonethoughtkeptrunningthroughhermindinaninfiniteloop:
howdarehe.

How dare he use his authority as the principal to interfere in her life as a father. How dare he

summontheboywhoscoopedoystersoutoftheirshellsforherandmakehimfeelsmallthewayheso
oftendidtoher.

"TheSlurpeedidn'tdoanythingwrong,youknow."Hunterappearedbyhersideandtooktheseat

infrontofher.

It was only then that she noticed how tight her grip had become around the Slurpee cup, the

condensationpoolingbetweenherfingers.

"Iknow."Melissatriedforasmile.
Hunter was the personification of Rocker Boy Cool in a black T-shirt with the twisted smiley

Nirvanainsigniaonit,hishairpointinginathousanddifferentdirections.Shealmostcouldn'tbelieveshe
founditdifficulttoformsyllablesaroundhimonlyafewmonthsago.Now,hereshewas,readytospill
hergutsouttohimaboutanotherboy.

"Areyouokay,Mel?"Huntercrackedhisknuckles."Tellmeifthere'saprettyboyIneedtobeat

up."

She shook her head and twirled the Slurpee cup around. "No, the only person who deserves a

punchintheeyesocketisme."

"You'resayingthat,becauseyouknowIwon'tpunchyou."Huntersmiledandleanedforwardon

thetable."Comeon,tellmewhat'swrong."

"Remember when you saw me by the vacant lot?" she said, her fingers continuing to twist the

Slurpeecuproundandround.

Hunterraisedhiseyebrowssardonically,buthistonewaskindwhenhespoke."Withthepretty

boybasketballplayer?HowcouldIforget?"

"We'vebeensortofgoingout,butIwantedtokeepthewholethingasecretbecauseof,youknow,

myfather,"Melissasaid,hervoicelowandmorethanalittleashamed."Wewenttoapartytogetherthis
weekend,andheaskedmetofinallytellPapaaboutus.ButIcouldn't.Iwastooscared,andIguessthings
areovernow."

SheexpectedjudgmentfromHunter,butheonlylookedcurious."What’swrongwithyourfather

findingoutabouthim?”

Andthatwasaquestionshecouldn'tevenbegintotryanswering.Melissasighed."Myfatherhas

thisideaofmeastheperfectdaughter,and...Lancedoesn'treallyfitwiththatidea.Don'tgetmewrong.
He's wonderful once you get to know him, but he presents this stupid, couldn't-care-less player front at
school.Especiallyinfrontofmyfather."

"The way I see things, the situation's pretty simple." Hunter reached forward and pulled the

Slurpeeawayfromher,soshe'dlookhimintheeye."YousayLanceisthisamazingguy,right?"

Melissanodded.
"Okay,then,"Huntersaid,clappinghishandstogether."So,isheamazingenoughforyoutoruin

thisperfectdaughterimageyourfatherhasofyou?"

ShestaredatHunter,herjawdroppingopen,becausehewasabsolutely,positivelyright.
Thesituationwasthatsimple.Shewastheonewhomadethingscomplicatedwithherinsecurities

aboutwhoherfatherwantedhertobeandwhoshereallywas.

Lancewasworthit.
Hewaswortheverything.
AndshehadtoletherfatherknowbeforeshelostLanceforgood.

ThetablewobbledonitslegsasMelissapulledherselfup.“Thanks,Hunter.I…Ihavetogo.”
“That’swhatIthought,”Huntersaidwithasmile,hisdimplemakingadentinhisleftcheek.
“Bye.”
“Letmeknowhowitturnsout,okay?”HuntergrabbedtheSlurpeeshe’dbarelyeventouchedand

tookasip.Hepointedathistemple.“Thiswholethingseemslikeagoodideaforasong.”

“Ibet.”
Melissawavedhergoodbyeassheranoutof7-Elevenandontothesidewalk.
Breathcaughtinherthroat,sheranhome,herflip-flopsslappingagainstthepavementwithevery

step. The late afternoon sun began to set and made telling her father more urgent than ever, like the
nightfall became a symbolic deadline. Cars sped past her. She couldn’t help stamping one foot in
impatiencewhenthelighttookalittletoolongtoturnredsoshecouldcrossthestreetandgethome.

Thewordswerebeggingtoburstoutofher,aboutLanceandhowmuchshecaredabouthimand

howshewasn’tscared.

Notanymore.
Shewasgoingtofightforhimnow,toothandnailandwitheveryotherbodypartinbetween.
***
Herfather’scarwasalreadyparkedinthegaragewhenshecametoahaltinfrontoftheirhouse.

Shewalkedthroughthedoorwayandfoundhimslippingonapairoffuzzyhouseslippers.

He smiled when he saw her. “There you are, Mel. I bought takeout from your favorite Chinese

placefordinner.”

Melissa’sheartbrokeevenmore.ShehatedherfatherthesecondLancewalkedoutofhisoffice

lookinglikeapuppywho’dbeenkickedinthestomach,butheroverwhelmingloveforhimbegantowar
withtherageinsideher.Hestoodintheirlivingroom,lookingolderthanshe’deverseenhim.

In the dumb slippers she’d gotten him as a present before the beginning of the school year. Just

because.

Howcouldshehateherfatherandlovehimsomuchatthesametime?
Atthesightofthetakeoutfromtheirgo-torestaurantonthekitchentable,tearsbegantopoolinthe

corners of her eyes. She could smell the orange chicken wafting out of the cardboard containers. Her
favorite.

Shelovedherfatherwithherwholeheart,andatonepoint,shewould’vedoneanythingtobethe

daughterhewanted,thedaughterhedeserved.Butshehadhadenoughofhisexpectations,ofthecrippling
poweradisappointedlookfromhimhadoverher.

Melissatooktwowobblystepsuntilshestoodrightinfrontofhim.Shegulped.“Whydidyouask

Lancetocometoyouroffice?”

Guiltflashedacrosshisface,butitfadedinaninstant.Hetriedtoshrugheroff.“Ihardlythink

discussingmystudents’privateaffairswithyouisappropriate.”

“Really? Then, are you saying you called Lance over to your office as the principal, not as my

father?”Melissabrushedawaythetearsflowingdownhercheekswiththebackofherhand,notsureif
theywereangrytearsorsadones.Thewordshungheavilyintheairbetweenthem,readytoexplodeat
anymoment.

“Iwillnotbespokentolikethisinmyhouse,”hesaid,theveinonhistemplethreateningtoburst.
“Areyoumyfatherrightnowormyschool’sprincipal?Youhavetodecide.Youcan’tbebothat

thesametime.Allthetime.”Melissa’svoicesoundedstrong,eventhougheveryfiberofherbeingwas
trembling.

“Areyouactinglikethisbecauseofthatboy?”hisresponsethunderedoutofhim.

Sheattemptedtolookhimintheeye,evenifhervisionwasgettingblurrierbythesecond.“What

ifIam?Whatareyougoingtodo?”

“Ispoketohimasyourfatherandspecificallyaskedhimtostayawayfromyou.Isthatwhatyou

wanttohear,Mel?”Herfatherpushedhisglassesuphisnose,staringdownather.Regretshonethrough
hiseyes,buthewasn’tgoingtoadmithewaswronganytimesoon.“Iabusedmyauthorityatthatschool
towarnhimoffyou,andI’mnotproudofit.ButitwassomethingIhadtodo.”

“Why?”Thequestioncameoutlowandsoft,buttheanswertoitwasgoingtodecidewherethey

weregoingtogofromhere,whethersheandherfathercouldpickupthepiecesfromthewreckagetheir
relationshiphadbecome.

“Becauseyou’remydaughter.Heisn’t—”
“Don’t.Pleasestop.”Melissaraisedherhandstostophim.Shedidn’twanttosoundlikeevery

teenage girl who’d been forbidden to see a boy in the history of the world, but her father really didn’t
knowLance,hadnoideawhatkindofpersonhewasnowandwascapableofbecoming.Sheshookher
headandletoutalittlelaughastearsrandownherface.“DoyouknowthatLanceandIweregoingout?I
askedhimtokeepthewholethingasecret,becauseIwasafraidyou’dlookatmethewayyou’redoing
rightnow.Likeyoudon’tevenknowwhoIam.”

“Mel—”
“No,” Melissa cut him off. “I’ve listened to you my whole life. It’s time for you to listen to me

now.”Whenhestayedsilent,shecontinued,“WewenttoplaceswhereIknewnoonewouldseeus,but
youknowwhat,Pa?Deepdown,Iwantedyoutocatchus,becauseIwantedtostopbeingscared.Butyou
didn’tcatchusandIdidn’thavethegutstotellyou.Now,it’stoolate.”

Shebrokedownforreal.Thestreamoftearsturnedintoatsunami.Herfathercrossedthedistance

between them, and his arms encircled her. She buried her face in his chest, soaking his shirt with her
tears.Hesmelledlikeorangesandcinnamon,likeherwholechildhoodbottledup.

“I’m sorry, Mel,” he whispered into her hair. “I wanted the best for you, but it seems I’ve been

goingaboutitallwrong.”

Melissa continued to cry into her father’s chest, but for the first time in as long as she could

remember,shefeltlikeshecouldfinallybreathe.

ChapterEighteen

“Wakeup,shitforbrains.”

Blinding light filled the world as Lance cracked his eyelids open. Last night’s whiskey-induced

binge returned to haunt him in the form of a migraine with the force of a jackhammer and the taste of
somethingunpleasantinthebottomofhisthroat.

Jace’s face, clean-shaven and freshly scrubbed, hovered above his. His best friend pulled the

coversoffhisalcohol-numbedbody.Thebastardhadpulledthecurtainsopen,lettingthesunshineflood
intotheroom,likeapromisethatthedaywasgoingtobebrightandwonderful.

Bullshit.
“Getup.”Losinghislastremainingbitofpatience,JacegrabbedhisT-shirtcollarandtugged.
Lancereachedoutandweaklyattemptedtopushhimaway.“No.”
JacetightenedhisholdonLance’scollar,andbegantodraghimoutofbed.“Dude,rememberthat

photoofyouwearingapandaonesiewhenyouwerefive?Juliannesentittome,andIwon’thesitateto
postitifyoudon’tgetup.Now.”WhenLancecontinuedtoplaydead,Jaceranahandthroughhishairin
frustration.“Comeon.Wehavetogotoschool.”

No.
Lancewasn’tgoingtoschool,notevenifhissisterdugupeverysingleembarrassingphotofrom

theirchildhoodandstartedpostingthemonline.Nottoday.Nottomorrow.Maybenotuntilnextweek.

SchoolmeantsittingbehindMelissaandbeingunabletoriphiseyesawayfromtheBigDipper

moles on the back of her neck, letting the gaping hole she’d carved through his heart grow wider and
wideruntilitthreatenedtodevourhim.Italsomeantseeingherfather,theprincipal,andpretendinghe
didn’twanttopunchthemanintheesophagus.

Hewantedthembothtogotohell.
Well,no,notreally,whichwastheproblem.
Abig,heavysighescapedthroughLance’snose.“RememberwhenIsaidIwasn’tintoMelissa?I

waslying.”

Finally, Jace’s fingers loosened around his T-shirt collar, and he landed on the bed with a thud.

“Yeah,Ifiguredthatout.”

Staring up at the ceiling, he said, “This is going to make me sound like a complete idiot, but I

neverthoughtitwouldhurtthismuch.Likesomeonestuffedmyheartinablenderandpushedthepower
button.”

“Then,howaboutyouunplugtheblender?”Jacegavehimatinynudgethatwasmorecomforting

than he ever expected. “You can start by taking a shower. You smell like the gym after basketball
practice.”

Thistime,Lancecomplied.Evenifheneverwantedtogetoutofbedagain,Jacewasn’tgoingto

leavehimaloneuntilhedid.Hekickedthecoversoffwithasmuchenergyashecouldmuster,grabbeda
towel,andheadedforthebathroom.Oncehewasshoweredanddressedinhisuniform,heandJacemet
upinthegarage.

“You better be right behind me,” Jace warned before getting into his own car, one finger aimed

rightatLance’schest.

“Yes,sir,”Lancerepliedwithalittlesalute.

ThecockygrinonhisfacefadedonceJace’scarpeeledoutofthedriveway.Ashewalkedoverto

hiscar,keysinhand,andpulledthedooropen,thethoughtofbailingonschoolandspendingtherestof
thedayinhisroomwiththeentireJasonBourneseriesbegantotakeoveroncemore.Hegotinthecar
beforehecouldchangehismind.

On the drive to school, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Jace said, about turning off the

blenderthatwasslowlyturninghisheartintoadisgustingorgansmoothie.

Maybe Jace had a point. He had his entire life stretching out before him. Maybe Melissa was

supposedtobealifelesson,anincrediblypainfulonebutamerelifelessonnonetheless.

Thethoughthurtlikeamotherfucker.
Oncehiscarreachedtheschoolparkinglot,Lancesteppedout,backpackslungoveroneshoulder.

The sun was still out in full force, way too bright and cheery for the foul mood he was in. Students
scurriedthroughthehallwaystogettotheirfirstperiodclasses,andhelethimselfbecarriedalong.

"Hey,Lance."Lykanoddedathimwithasmileasshewalkedpasthim.
Heturnedtogetabetterlookather,herhairswingingaroundhershoulders.
"Hey."Heattemptedtoreturnhersmile.
Whycouldn'thehavefallenforsomeonelikeLykainstead?Shewasbeautiful,smart,andmostof

all,theywereonthesamepage.Theirnamesevenbeganwiththesameletter.

Therewasnoroomfordoubtwhenhewaswithher,becauseherfeelingsforhimwereasclearas

hisreflectioninthebathroommirrorthatmorning.MaybeMelissaandtheshitstormhenowfoundhimself
inwaskarmafortreatingalltheothergirlshe'ddatedlikecrap.

Poeticjusticeandallthatjazz.
Whenhegottofirstperiod,Melissawasalreadyinherseat,herhairpiledontopofherheadina

messybun.Likethedayhediscoveredtheshapehermolesmadebelongedinthenightsky.Lancedidn't
knowwhethertolaughbitterlyortogroaninfrustration.

Helethisbackpackslipfromhisshoulder,downhisarm,andontothefloorashetookhisseat

behindher.Theschoolyearwasn'tevenhalfwayover,buthecouldn'tbearthethoughtofbeingthisclose
toherwithoutactuallybeingwithheranymore.

He was so lost in thought that it took him five minutes to notice the teddy bear perched

precariouslyontheedgeofhisdesk.Itwasalittlebiggerthanhisfist,andithuggedawoodencylinder.

Wrapping his fingers around it, Lance pulled the teddy bear closer. He popped the lid off the

cylinderandfoundarolledpieceofpaperinside.

IwishIcouldrearrangethealphabet,soIcouldputUandItogether.Forgiveme?-M
ItwasMelissa'suseofherinitialthatthrewhim,likeshecouldn'tevenownuptoherapology.

Likeshethoughtsomeoneelsemightfindhernoteandshedidn'twantthemtoknowshe'dwrittenitfor
him.Despitewhatthenotemeant,shewasstillhidinghimlikedirtylaundryunderherbed.

Hewantedtoforgiveher,buthecouldn't.Notnow.Maybenotever.
Aslongasshecouldn'ttellherfather—hell,theentireworld—aboutthem,therewasn'tanything

hecoulddo.Thethoughtmadehimangrierthanever.Knowingshewaswaitingforhisreaction,Lance
stuffedtheteddybearinsidehisbackpack.

Letherstewandwonderforachange.
He sat behind her the entire morning without saying anything. Mr. Rodriguez, their psychopathic

Physicsteacher,evenwonderedaloudathisapparentlackofdumbasscommentsduringclass.Whenthe
lunchbellfinallyrang,hehurriedoutoftheclassroom.

"Lance,wait!"Melissagrabbedhisarmandpulledhimtoastop.
Hefrozeatthesoundofhervoiceandwhirledaround,hiseyesgluedtothespotwhereherfingers

werestillfirmlyclutchinghisarm.Studentsfiledpasteithersideofthemonthewaytothecafeteria.Eyes
wide,hisgazedartedaroundthehallwaybeforeheshookoffherholdonhim."Peoplecansee."

Itwaslikejumpingoffacliffandchangingyourmindmid-fall.Heknewhewasbeingajerk,but

hesomehowcouldn'tstophimself.Itwastoolatetostopthefreefall.

ButMelissaonlyshookherhead."Idon'tcare.Notanymore."
He wanted to believe her, but he saw the principal, the father she wanted to please so much,

appearneartheendofthehallway,haircombedoverhisheadandblackleathershoesshining.Everypart
ofLancethatwantedtogivewhattheyhadanothershotturnedsour.

"Yeah?"Lancesaid,hisvoicecruelerthanhe'deverheardit."It'salittletoolateforthat."
***
IthadbeentwodayssinceMelissawatchedLancewalkawayfromher,thespacebetweentheir

bodiesmagnifiedwitheachstephetook.Twodaysthatshesatinfrontofhimduringclassandrestrained
herselffrombegginghimtolistentoher.

Twomiserabledays.
Now,shehadaplan.
Shecrossedathousandimaginaryfingersthatitwouldwork.
At the end of the day, speakers all over the school sometimes blasted announcements about

upcomingschooleventsorastudent’saccomplishmentataninterschoolcompetition.Theannouncements
wereallpre-recorded,anditwasMr.Chua’sjobtoplaythemat4:45P.M.everyday.

It was a good thing she spent three weekends painting a classroom with him making sure she

didn’tsneakout.Thosethreeweekendsaddeduptoaconvenientbondingmomentthatallowedhertocall
inagiganticfavor.

Melissa sat in her seat, back straight and hands clasped tightly on her lap. She listened to their

teacherwrapuptheirdiscussionfortheday’slastclass.Ontheoutside,shecalmlywrotedownthenext
day’shomeworkwiththesamegoldpenLancehadstolenfromher.Deepdown,astormragedinsideher,
countingdownthesecondsuntilschoolendedfortheday.

SheglancedatCamandfoundherbestfriendstaringbackather.
Areyousureaboutthis?Cam’seyesasked.
Absolutely.
Amused,Camraisedhereyebrows.Ican’twaittoseethis.
Hergazeflewtotheclockhangingabovetheclassroomdoorwayandwatcheditcountdownthe

seconds.Six.Five.Four.Three.Shewasgoingtobesick.Two.Maybethiswasthedumbestideaever.
One.Itwastoolatetostopthingsnow.

“Hi,everyone.ThisisMelissaOrtiz.”Sheheardherownvoicebeingblastedthroughthespeaker

outside their classroom door. “I know you’re expecting an announcement about the basketball team
winningagainstsomeotherschoolyadda,yadda,yadda,butthat’snothappeningrightnow.Today,you’re
goingtohearanentirelydifferentannouncement.Intheformofasong.Cool?Okay,hereitgoes.”

AbsolutemortificationfilledMelissaasthesoundofherukulelestreamedthroughwhatmust’ve

beenalmostadozenspeakersthroughouttheentireSaintAgnesCatholicAcademy.Itwastheaudiofrom
thevideoshe’dfirstrecordedwithCam,herukulelecoverofthesongabouttheboywhodideverything
foragirlandallthethingsthegirlwantedtodoforhiminreturn.

Shesangitlessthantwenty-fourhoursafterLancehadkissedher,andithadfeltwonderful,like

she’dbeenlivinginaglassbubbleherentirelifeandshesmashedthroughit.Finally.

Theexcitedchatterabouttheendofthedaythatfilledtheclassroomturnedintoabsolutesilence.

Her classmates and even her teacher all stared at her, eyes wide and a little unbelieving. She couldn’t

blamethem.Theyallknewherasshy,quietMelissaOrtiz,theprincipal’sdaughterwhostudiedhardand
alwaysdideverythingright.

Well,shewasn’tthatgirlanymore.
Sheneverhadbeen.
IttookeveryfiberofherbeingtostopherfromturningaroundtoseeLance’sreaction,toseeifhe

knewthatallthiswasforhim.

After the song ended, her normal speaking voice came through the speakers again. “Right now,

maybeyou’rewonderingwhatthatsongwasabout.ItwasforLance,theboyIatehamburgersandfries
withinhiscar,becauseIwastooafraidtotellpeopleweweretogether.Theboywhotaughtmethatyou
don’twalkawaywhenthingsgettough.So,that’swhatI’mdoingrightnow.I’mnotwalkingaway.”

Silence.
Melissa,nottomentiontheentireclassroom,waitedforLance’sreaction,holdingtheirbreathsas

one, unable to move until he decided to do something. She held her hope back when his chair scraped
againstthefloor.

She didn’t dare turn around, but her heart slowed down and sped up all at once. Her fingers,

whichhadgrippedthegoldpenthewholetime,unfurledthemselves,sweatyandshaking.

Unable to stop herself anymore, Melissa stood up and whirled around to face Lance. He was

already standing, his face as devoid of emotion as a mask, backpack straps slung over his shoulders.
Withoutsayinganything,Lancetookasharpturnandwalkedoutthedoor.

Herheartbrokeintoathousandpieces.Painspreadthroughherbody.Itfloweddownherveins,

fillingeverynerveendingandattemptingtotakeover.Theheartbreaksopainfulshecouldn’tbelieveher
bodywasbigenoughtocontainallofit.

She couldn’t let things end like this. Blinking back tears and forgetting about the notebooks still

scatteredalloverherdesk,MelissaranoutoftheclassroomandfollowedLance.Apartofhertoldherto
keepatleastatinyshredofdignity,butshetoldittoshutthehellup.

Hewasnolongerinthehallway,soshehurriedtothestairswhereshefoundhiminthestairwell

leaningagainstthewallforsupport,onehandrubbinghisface.Hestoodupstraightwhenheheardher
comingcloser,hisfaceredandmoreconfusedthanever.

Forthefirsttimeintwodays,Lancelookedherintheeye.“Ican’tdothis,Mel.”
Thereitwasagain,thatcripplingheartbreak,butMelissasteeledherself.Shecouldcrylaterin

theprivacyofherownroom,butrightnow,sheneededtobestrongenoughtofightforhim.“Youtoldme
thatyoudon’twanttobethepersonwhowalksaway.Well,you’rewalkingawayrightnow.”

“Doyouthinkthisiseasyforme?”Lanceclosedthedistancebetweenthem,hiseyesburning.
“Nothinghaseverbeeneasyforus.That’sthewaythingshavealwaysbeen.”Sheliftedherchin,

fulloffakebravado.

Lanceshookhisheadatherwithabitterlaugh.Hetuggedonhisbackpackstrapsandheadedfor

the next set of stairs. Melissa was through with letting him walk away. She grabbed his shoulder and
forcedhimtofaceher.

“That’sit?”shesaid,hertoneunbelieving.“You’regoingtowalkawaylikeafuckingcoward?”
Shecouldhearstudentsbeginningtostreamoutofclassrooms,theirexcitedconversationsabout

theirafter-schoolplans.Soon,theywouldbewalkingdownthestairsindrovesandwitnessthedisaster
blowingupinherface.

Rightnow,though,theonlythingshecouldconcentrateonwasLanceandthewayhewaslooking

atherlikeshewaswortheighteenyearsofbirthdaywishes.Eversoslowly,hishandreacheduptohold
hers,theonethatwasstillgrippinghisshoulderlikeshe’ddrownifsheeverletgo.

“Howlongdoyouthinkwe’llbetogetherbeforeyoustarttohateme?”Hiseyesweren’tangry

now.Theyweresad,whichwasevenworse.“Howlongwillittakeyoutorealizeyoudisappointedyour
father for me, and that maybe, I’m not even worth it? I’m walking away, Mel, not because it’s the easy
thingtodo.Maybeit’stherightthing.”

“Lance,don’t—”
“Let’sforgeteverythingeverhappened,okay?”
He pulled her hand away from his shoulder. No matter how much she tried to hold on, he was

stronger.Allthefightdrainedoutofher.Shecouldn’tdoanythingbutwatchtheboyherheartrefusedto
letgoofdisappeardownthestairs.

As students streamed past her, giving her strange looks the whole time, Melissa stood in the

middleofthestairwell,unabletomove.

Maybehewasright.Theyshouldforgeteverythingandmoveon,putathousandBand-Aidsonthe

woundstheyinflictedoneachother.

Butthen,shethoughtofallthetimesLancefoughtforher,ofallthetimesherefusedtogiveupon

her.Itwasdefinitelymorethantwice.

Withrenewedenergy,sherandownthestairs,evenpushingpastagroupofgirlswhoweretalking

about how she’d made a fool of herself over Lance Ortiz, the biggest player Saint Agnes Catholic
Academyhadseeninyears.

Melissaalmostsmileddespiteherfear,becauselovewasallaboutmakingafoolofyourself.
Onlyifthepersonwasworthit.
Shereachedtheparkinglotandfoundhimdumpinghisbackpackintothebackseatofhiscar.As

hepulledthedooropenandclimbedin,shedashedthroughthecars,hopingshewasn’ttoolate.

Upon reaching his car, she yanked the door open, plopped herself on the passenger seat, and

slammedthedoorshut.Sheturnedtofindhimwithhiseyesonher,keyfrozenonthewaytotheignition.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Lancesaid,hisvoicemorethanalittlewary.
“HowaboutyouandmeonSaturdaynight?”Melissagiftedhimwithawaterysmile,echoingthe

firstwordshesaidtoherthatschoolyear,thewordsthatstartedeverything.

Hetiltedhisheadandblinkedafewtimes.“Excuseme?”
“Isaid,doyouwanttogooutwithmethisweekend?”Seeingthathewasabouttoanswer,she

heldupahandtostophim.Surethatshesoundedbeyonddelusional,shecontinued,“Wecanhavedinner
atthatseafoodrestaurantinAtriaItoldyouabout.I’llmeetyoutherethisSaturday.Is7P.M.okay?”

Lance only looked at her, and her last piece of courage chipped away. Blinking back tears, she

touchedhischeek,takinginherfavoritefaceintheentireworld.

“Endingthingsbetweenusisn’ttherightthing.It’stheworstthingever.I’llgiveyouspaceforthe

restoftheweek,butIhopeyou’llshowuponSaturday,”shewhispered.“Ifyoudon’t,I’llunderstand.”

Leavingtheballinhiscourt,shesteppedoutofhiscar,buthopefully,notoutofhislife.

ChapterNineteen

Lancedidn’tknowwhethertobehappyordisappointedthatMelissakeptherword.ItwasFriday,and
shehadn’tspokentohimorevenlookedhimintheeyesincethedayshejumpedoutofhiscar.

Hesatononeofthebenchesthatlinedallfoursidesofthequadrangle,hiseyesonthedouble-

doorsoftheprincipal’soffice.Thegroundwasstillwetfromtheearlierrainshower.Afewkidsjumped
aroundahugepuddle,theskyablanketofgrayabovethem.

“Do they know how dirty rainwater is?” Jace’s horrified voice broke the silence. As if he was

beingcontaminatedbythesightofit,hedugsanitizeroutofhispocketandstartedspreadingitthroughhis
hands.

“Seeingyoulikethismakesmewanttohideadirtysockinyourbackpack,”Lancesaid,amused,

buthiseyeswereontheprincipal’sofficeagain.

Jacestuffedthesanitizerbackintohispocketandfollowedhislineofsight.“Yougoingtotalkto

himsoon?”

Lancenodded.
HehadalreadymadeuphismindaboutwhetherornothewasgoingtoshowupatAtria,whether

hewasgoingtogivethiscrazywhirlwindofarelationshipwithMelissaonemoretry.Heneededtotalk
toherfatherfirst.Sometimes,hisconsciencerefusedtomakeanappearance,butnow,itwouldn’tshutup.

JaceleanedbackonbothpalmsasLancestoodup,hiseyesneverwaveringfromthedoorthatled

totheprincipal’soffice.Nowordsneededtobespokenbetweenthem.

The wind picked up as Lance made his way across the quadrangle and carefully avoided one

puddleafteranother.Thesoundofthelaughingkidspiercedthroughthequietafternoon.

Hetookadeepbreathuponreachingthedoorwayandraisedhishandtoknock.
Somethingstoppedhim.
He had been a student at Saint Agnes Catholic Academy since the ripe old age of six, and

throughout those years, he’d been a frequent visitor to the principal’s office. For idiotic things like
dumpingtheliquidsoapintheboys’bathroomdownthedrainbackinGradeThree.Orformoreserious
thingslikegettinginafightwithJoeyVillaruzforstealingtheotherboy’sgirlfriendtheyearbefore.

Neverinhiswholelifehaditoccurredtohimthathewouldwalkuptothesedoorswillingly.
Withasigh,herappedhisfistagainstthedoor,andtheprincipalaskedhimtoenter.Mr.Ortizwas

soshockedthesecondLancewalkedthroughthedoorthatanyonewould’vethoughtMr.Rodriguezburst
throughthemwearingacheerleadingcostumeandahugesmile.

“Goodafternoon,Mr.Ortiz,”Lancesaidasrespectfullyashecould,shuttingthedoorbehindhim.

“IwaswonderingifIcouldspeaktoyoutoday.”

Mr.Ortizcontinuedtostareathimasifhe’dbeenpetrified,mouthagapeandthepenhe’dbeen

holding slipping through his fingers and rolling across the open ledger in front of him. He cleared his
throat.“Takeaseat,Mr.Ordonez.Whatdidyouwanttospeaktomeabout?”

“Yourdaughter.”Lancecouldonlyhopehisvoicewasn’tasshakyashisknees.Hetookaseat.

“Thelasttimewespoke,yousaidIwasn’tgoodenoughforMelissa.I’dlikeyoutoknowIcompletely
agree with you. You see me as this arrogant boy who gets by on his father’s money. I can’t blame you,
becauseupuntilacoupleofmonthsago,youwereright.”

“Goon.”Mr.Ortizclaspedhisfingerstogetherandleanedforward.

“Butyourdaughterseessomethinginme,somethingworthy,andI’dverymuchliketoproveher

right.”Hebithislowerlip,hispalmssweatierthanthey’deverbeeninhislife.Hetookinadeepbreath
andletitoutbeforesaying,“I’dlikeyourpermissiontogooutwithher.”

Youcould’vehearddustmotesfloatingthroughtheairinthesilencethatfollowed.
Unable to stand it anymore, Lance continued talking, “Don’t get me wrong. I’ll probably follow

Melissaaroundlikeapuppyfortherestofmylife,butyourapprovalwouldmeanalot.Toher.Evento
me.”

Mr. Ortiz’s eyes darted to the framed family portrait on his desk, the one with Melissa in the

centerwithhersmileasbrightasthesummersun.Then,theprincipal,thefatheroftheonlygirlhewanted
tobewith,openedhismouthtospeak.

Lancecouldonlyholdontothearmrestsandbracehimselfforimpact.
***
TheworldwasmockingMelissa.Itwasn’tValentine’sDayoranyotherspecialdaywherepeople

felt the need to flaunt their significant others, but there were couples everywhere she turned. Seated
together and sharing churros inside Army Navy. Walking hand-in-hand while sipping matching cups of
coffee.Browsinginsidethecomicbookstorearoundthecorner.

Maybethiswaskarmafortakingtoolongtofollowherheart.
ShestoodoutsideSeafoodIslandasthesundescendedandbathedtheworldinpinkandpurple

light.Cottoncandycloudsstreamedthroughthesky.Shelookeddownatthetoenailsshepaintedlavender
earliertomatchherdress,theoneLancehadgivenhernotsolongago.

Diggingherphoneoutofherpurse,sheglancedatthetimeonthescreenandsighed.Itwasfive

minutespastseven.

Washenotgoingtoshowup?
Wasittimetogiveupandgohome?
ShecouldrecoverfromaboylikeLanceifhedecidedhedidn’twanttobewithheranymore.It

wouldtakealongtime,butshecoulddoit.Shejustwasn’tsurewheretogettheenergyrequired.

ShedialedCam.
“Didheshowup?”Camdidn’tevenbotherwithhellos.
“Heisn’thereyet.”ThebiggerpartofMelissa,theonethatwantedtobelievethingsweren’tover,

continuedtolookaroundAtria,scanningforoneparticularfaceinthecrowd.

“Idon’tknowwhattosaytomakeyoufeelbetter,Mel.”Camsoundedonlyalittlelessupsetthan

shefelt.“ButIhaveicecreamandMeanGirlspreparedjustincase.”

“Thatsoundswonderful,”shesaid,hervoicebreakingonthelastsyllable.
Itwastrue.Onanormalday,Cam’sofferwould’vebeenwonderfulbutnottodayofalldays.
“Isittoosoontosayhe’sjustaboy?”
Shealmostsmiled.“Probably.Ishouldgetgoing—”
Ahand,warmandfamiliar,slippedthroughhers,weavingtheirfingerstogether.Itfeltright,likea

lockclickingintoplace.Shecouldn’tthinkofanyotherwaytodescribeit.Lancelookeddownather,the
smileonhisfacebeautifulenoughtotripleherheartrate.

Hewiggledhisfingersinhers.“Isthisokay?”
Sheshookherheadasshewrestledherhandoutofhis.“Definitelynotokay.”
Alinedformedbetweenhiseyebrows.“Mel,Ithought—”
Before he could continue, she curled her fingers around the fabric of his white V-neck shirt. “I

wantmore.Somuchmore.”

Herhandstrailedtheirwayuphischest,andshegrippedhisshouldersandpulledhimloweruntil

herlipscouldmeldwithhis.This,thismomentrighthere,ishowakississupposedtofeel.LikeI’m
takingmyfirstbreathafterswimmingathousandmiles.Sheclosedhereyesandheldbackashiveras
histonguetracedherlowerlip.

Lance’sarmhookedaroundherwaisttopullherupagainsthim,whilehisfingertraceddelicious

circlesaroundherneck.Shecouldn’tholdbacktheshiveranymore,anditraceddownherspine.Lance
smiledagainsthermouth,likealways.

Thisboydrovehercrazy.
Inthebestwayimaginable.
After he let her go, she buried her face in his neck and breathed him in, inhaled the scent that

wasn’tperfumeoranythingartificial.JustthepuresmellofLanceshe’dmissedsomuch.

GrippinghisT-shirtbetweenherfingers,shepushedbackandfoundhimstaringbackather,his

eyesreflectingtheemotionsinherown.“Iloveyou.”

Hissmilewasnothingshortofmagazinecover-worthy.“StopmebeforeIjumparoundandstart

whooping.” The mischief faded from his smile, and his face, his entire being, turned soft. “I love you,
too.”

Her arms around his waist, Melissa buried her face in his chest and realized how utterly

comfortableitwas.ShewantedtostandinthemiddleofAtriawithherfacesupergluedtoLance’schest.
Forever.Staringcrowdsbedamned.“Ican’tbelieveIwaitedthislongtosaythattoyou.”

“Iunderstandwhyittookyousolongtofigureitout.”Achucklerumbledthroughhischest.“You

wereblindedbymyprettyface.”

Shethumpedhimonthechestwiththeflatofherpalm.“Oh,Iwasdefinitelyblinded.Bythelong

listofex-girlfriends.Bythecheesypickuplines.Bythesheerarrogance—”

Hekissedheragain.
AndMelissakissedhimbackwithallshewasworth.

ChapterTwenty

“Please,please,pleaserecordeverything.”

Lance glanced at down at the phone that was currently on loudspeaker on his dashboard, not

knowing whether to be annoyed at Julianne for needling him or at himself for answering her call. His
sister’shairwasplatinumblondethismonth,anditdrovetheirfatherbatshitcrazy.

“Don’tscrewthisupforme.”Lancegrabbedthephonefromthedashboardwithonehand,fishing

hiscarkeysouthispocketwiththeother.“Melissa’sfatheralreadyhatesmyguts.”

“God,Ican’tbelieveit.”HecouldpictureJulianneshakingherhead,blondecurlsflyinginher

face. “You. Having dinner at a girl’s house and meeting her parents. It’s blowing my mind.” She made
explosivenoisesforaddedemphasis.

“I appreciate your support.” He pressed the end call button and began the drive to Melissa’s

house.

Whatwasusuallyafifteen-minutedriveendedinwhatseemedlikefiveseconds.Roadszoomed

by,thesceneryofbuildingsandhousesblurringinthebackground.

Beforeheknewit,hewaspullingabouquetofflowersoutofthebackseatandintohisarms.He

shutthecardoorandmadehiswaytothegate,pressingonefingeragainstthedoorbell.Lanceglanced
downatthebouquetofflowersandbelatedlyrealizedhowstupiditwas.

Flowers?Forhermother?
Whatwasthis?The1950s?Heshould’vebroughtsomethingusefullikewine,butMr.Ortizmight

disapprove of a high school student bringing alcohol to a family dinner. Maybe he should’ve bought
dessertinstead,ahugechocolatecakeoricecream.Itwould’vebeenasaferbet.

Also, why was he sweating so much? Rivulets seemed to run down his spine. His shirt—his

fanciestbluebutton-down—wasgoingtobesoakedinnotime.

Thegateopened,andMelissa’sbeamingfaceappearedinfrontofhim.“Youcame.”
Her arms encircled his neck, and when he tried to speak, mumbled words burst forth from his

mouth.Hecouldonlygulpandgapeather,theonlytwothingshisbodywascapableofdoingashestood
onthethresholdofherhouse.

He wasn’t picking her up by a vacant lot with overgrown weeds anymore. He was walking

throughthedoorwayofherhousewhileholdingthedumbestbouquetofwhiteroseshe’deverlaideyes
oninhisentirelife.

Lancedidn’tknowwheretolookfirstashisdisbelieffadedwitheachsecondhespentinside.The

Ortizhomewasn’tasbigastheOrdonezmansion,butitwascozy,warmerthanhisownhomehadever
been for as long as he could remember. Matching throw pillows were in disarray on the couch, and a
jumble of mail sat on the coffee table. The walls were a warm yellow. There were signs of life
everywhere.Hedidn’tknowhowelsetoputit.

PhotosofMelissafromwhenshewasababytolastyear’sclassphotohungonthewallsalong

withframedcertificatesofherachievementsthroughouttheyears.Hetookastepforwardandexamined
the closest one, a colorful photograph of Melissa blowing out the candles on her cake at her seventh
birthdayparty.Hestaredatthechildrenthatsurroundedherandfoundhisownseven-year-oldfaceamong
them,partyhataskewonhishead.

HeturnedbacktofaceMelissa,hisgirlfriend.Itfeltgoodtobeabletocallherthat.Hegrinned.

“Iwasatyourseventhbirthdayparty.”

Shereturnedhisgrin.“Yes,youwere.”
Itwasatinything,butitstillfeltlikesomething.
“YoumustbeLance.”AbeautifulwomaninherearlyfortieswholookedlikeMelissawalkedout

ofwhatmust’vebeenthekitchen,wipingherhandsonafloralcloth.ThankGodtheonlythingMelissa
inheritedfromherfatherwashereyes.“It’snicetomeetyou.”

Lancestraightenedtohisfullheight.Hisgirlfriend’sfathermightcurrentlybeplottinghismurder,

butcharminghermotherwouldn’tbeaproblem.Hecoulddothis.

Fullofconfidence,heopenedhismouth,butnowordscameout.Hetriedagain.“Yes,I’mLance.

Imean,hi,I’mLance.It’sverynicetomeetyou,andyouhaveaveryscaryhusband.Shit,I’mscrewing
thisup.I’msorry.Ididn’tmeantosay‘shit.’Twice.”

Behindhim,Melissaletoutamostunladylikesnort.
He stifled the urge to run a hand over his face. Feeling his face flush, he handed the bouquet to

Mrs.Ortizbeforehismouthdecidedtoembarrasshimevenfurther.“Theseareforyou.”

“Thankyou,Lance.”Mrs.Ortiz’slaughwaslightandremindedhimofwindchimes.Shestared

downatthebouquetwithalittlesmile.“It’sbeensolongsinceIgotflowers.”

“Remindmetogetyouyourfavoritestomorrow,”Mr.Ortizsaidashewalkeddownthestairs,his

eyesalreadyattemptingtosetLanceonfire.

TheurgetorunahandoverhisfacethreatenedtotakeoverLanceagain,andhebarelymanagedto

overcomeit.Thepartywasjustgettingstarted.

Dinnerwasasimpleandentirelyawkwardaffair.Mr.Ortizsatattheheadofthetable,hiswife

onhisrightandhisdaughteronhisleftrespectively.Lancedidhisbesttomaintainarespectfuldistance
betweenhimandMelissa,whichmeantatleasttwofeetinfrontofherfather.

Mr. Ortiz glared at him during the entire dinner, while his wife attempted to distract him by

heapingmoundsoffoodonhisplate.WhenMr.Ortizaskedhimtopassthemashedpotatoes,hedidso
withsurprisinglyunsteadyhands.Asheshoveledaspoonfulofriceintohismouth,hesaidasilentprayer
ofthanksthatMr.Ortizdidnothaveaguncollection.

“HowhasHunterbeenlately,Mel?”Mr.Ortizaskedinthemiddleofdinneraftertakingasipof

icedtea.

Melissa’seyesdartedtoLancebeforesheanswered.“He’sfine,Pa.Busywithhisband.”
“Youknow,Iwasabitdisappointedatfirstwhenhedecidedtoformabandandnotfocusonhis

studies, but I believe in him more now,” Mr. Ortiz continued, feigning ignorance to the growing
awkwardness around the table. “His grades are higher than ever. That only shows he knows how to
managehispriorities.Hunter’sgoingtogofarinlife,I’msure.”

Mr.Ortiz’seyesslidoverLanceasiftohintthatwhilehewassureaboutHunter,hewasn’tso

sureabouttheboycurrentlysittingatthesametable.“Whataboutyou,Lance?Whatareyourplansafter
graduation?”

“I’m studying Management so I can take over our construction business in a few years.” Lance

lookedMr.Ortizintheeyeashesaidthenextwords.“ButIdon’twanttorelaxandenjoywhatmyfather
started.Iwanttohavemoreclients,biggerprojects,andbetteroutput.Justmore.”

Hedidn’thave‘higherthanever’gradeslikeHunteroraninterestinmusicandartsythingslike

Melissa,buthewasshowingMr.Ortizwhohereallywas.Hewaslayingallhiscardsonthetable,and
hehopedtheywereenough.

Obviously,theyweren’t,becauseMr.Ortizdidn’tcomment.
Dinner continued, as excruciating as ever. Soon, their plates were cleared away, and they sat

aroundthetablewithfullstomachs.WithoutlookingatLance,Mr.Ortizstoodupandashewalkedaway,
said,“TellMelissawhatyou’dlikefordinnernexttime,Lance,sowecanprepareit.”

Healmostbeamed.
Itwasthetiniestofolivebranches,buthewasgoingtotakeit.Beggarscouldn’tbechoosers,after

all.

***
LancehadgottenhermotherflowersasMelissahadimagined.
They sat on the front porch, a respectful distance between them, because her father might

predictably get the urge to check on them. Her mother had already placed the flowers on a vase in the
middleofthediningtable,aplaceofhonor.Melissatiltedherfaceuptothesky.Thestarsstaredbackat
heramidsttheirblanketofdarkness.

She and Lance were under the same expanse of dark sky. On her front porch. With her father's

permission. The wind whipped her loose hair around her shoulders. The night air was chilly, but her
sheergiddinessmadefeelingcoldimpossible.

Thesmileblossomingacrossherfacecouldn'tbehelped.ShefacedLanceandsawthathe,too,

hadtiltedhisfaceuptotheskyasheleanedonhispalms.Herlefthandslitheredinhisdirectionuntil
theirpinkiestouched.Justbarely.

Heglancedather,hissmileashappyasherown.Shelookedintothefaceshepreviouslywanted

tosmackwithherthickesttextbook.

"Areyouafart?"Melissafoundherselfsaying.
Lancesmirked."Why?"
"Becauseyoublowmeaway."
Hewassilentforaheartbeat.Then,hisshouldersbegantoshake,andalaugheruptedoutofhim

asheburiedhisfaceinherneck.Hebreathedherin,likeeverybreathwashislast.Theycontinuedto
laughforalongtime,atthestupidityofherpick-upline,atthenoveltyofbeingtogetherwithoutbeing
afraidsomeonewouldsee.

"Youhavetheworstpick-uplines,"Lancesaidoncehegotcontrolofhimselfagain.
"Well,Ilearnedthemfromyou."Melissatooktheopportunitytorunherfingersthroughhishair,to

feelthestrandsslitheracrossherfingers.Itwasarightshe'ddeniedherselffortoolong.

Suddenly, Lance sat up. His gaze darted to the open doorway that led to the house before he

lookedather."Doyouthinkthis—us—willworkout?"

Thethingsthefutureheldflashedthroughhermind.Herfatherstilldidn'tfullyapprove,andthey

weregoingtobeincollegenextyearwhichmeantnewpeopleandnewexperiencesthatmightpullthem
awayfromeachother.

Butsheknewbetternow.Neitherofthemwasgoingtowalkawaywhenthingsgottough.Shehad

faith.

She raised one hand and ran her thumb over his lower lip. Surer than anything, she said, "We

will."

Acknowledgments

TherearetimeswhenI’mfilledwithdoubtaboutmywritingandalltheothercrazy(butwonderful)things
thatcomewithbeinganindieauthor.However,I’venevercomeclosetogivingup,becauseofthesupport
ofsomanywonderfulpeople.

ThankstoMamaandTitoEdwin.ThetwoofyouneverbataneyelashwhenIdon’tcomeoutof

myroomfordaysandemergelookinglikeIbelonginacrypt.Don’tworry.Ihaven’tbeendoinganything
illegal.Atleast,Idon’tthinkso?

ThankstoJosh.Our2A.M.chatsaboutwritingandlifeingeneralkeptmesane.Ilookforwardto

criticizingyourfootwearchoiceswhenyoucomehome.

ThankstoJenny,myeditor.Youwerethefirstpersonwhoreadthecompleteddraftofthisbook,

andyourfeedbackwasbeyondhelpful.Thisbookisalittlemoreinshapebecauseofyou.

Thanks to Dan for designing my cover. How lucky was I to find a friend as talented and sharp-

tongued as you? Your wicked one-liners shall someday make their way into my books. You’ve been
warned.

ThankstoCarlandMaj.YoukindlysacrificedyourSundayafternoontoposeforthecoverofthis

book.IshalleternallyoweyouM&Mcookiesandblueberrytea.

Thanks to Rud John, Aifree, Ace, Ian, Roman, Carl Andrew, Francis Joy, and Vince. You guys

demandedthatyoushouldbementionedinmynextbookafterIpublishedPromQueenPerfect.Well,here
yougo.Haha.Allofyoumadecollegebearable.

ThankstoKiko,Thom,Eunella,Bob,Lea,Lani,andJudelynformakingstressfulhoursatworkfly

by.

Thanks to the wonderful people from #romanceclass. I never would’ve taken this writing thing

seriouslyifIhadn’tfoundourcommunityonlineandtheinspirationalpeoplewhobelonginit.

Lastly,I’dliketothankyou,reader.Youtookthetimetoreadthisbook,andyou’veevenmanaged

tomakeitthisfar.IhopeLanceandMelissawereworthit.

AbouttheAuthor

Clarisse David is a Young Adult author from the land of epic heat waves a.k.a. the Philippines. She
graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Literature and cannot survive without Taylor Swift songs, red
lipstick, and books. When not hanging out on Twitter, she can be found working on her latest writing
project.

YoucanfindClarisseonlineat:
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http://www.clarissedavid.com

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