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Formygrandmother,becauseshewouldhavegottensuchakickoutofit.

Chapter1:Sam

“Hey,Sam.”

Twosmallwords,buttheychugthroughmyveinslikeicecubes,makingmewanttoclutchatmychest

whentheyreachmyheart.I’drecognizeLuke’svoiceanywhere,anytime.

Iturnaround,andthereheisatthetablenexttome.TheguyIoncewouldhavedoneanythingtokeep.
“Luke,”ImanagetochokeoutasIfumblemylatteandspillitonmyhand.Thepainhelpsmefocus,

andIseehehascompanyathistable.

Emily.Myformerroommate...andfriend.
“Hi,Sam.”Atleastshehasthedecencytolookuncomfortable.
“Howhaveyoubeen?”Lukeasks,likewe’reoldchums.Ineedtofindawaytogetoutofthiscafé,

butit’slikeI’mthatgirlabouttogetaxedinahorrormovie:I’mfrozen.Rightnow,anyonewatchingme
wouldbescreaming,“Run,bitch!”Andthey’dberight.ButI’mnotmyselfrightnow.

“I’mfine,”mystationaryalteregoanswers.
“That’sgreat.”LukekeepsnoddinglikeadashboardBobbleHead.“We’redoingwell.Emilyis

graduatingthisyear.I’matSantaClara,finishingmyMBA.”

IlookatLuke.ThenatEmily.ThenatLukeagain.
“IthoughtyouwantedtogotoWharton?”Iask,patheticexthatIam.Butithadbeenapointof

contentionthatLukewasgoingtomove,andI—beinganidiot—hadbeenreadytotransferwhereverhe
endedup.

“HewantedtostayclosewhileIfinishedschool.”Emily’shandisrestingonastackofmagazines.

I’mwonderingwhytherearesomany,andthenInoticethefluffywhitedressesandorganzaveilsonthe
covers.Bridalmags.AndonEmily’sbirdlikeringfingerisarockthatmightaswellbeintheshapeofa
dollarsign.

There’sanopenbindernexttothemagazines,filledwithphotos,spreadsheets,andnotes.Her

weddingorganizer.

Shameracesthroughme,jump-startingmyheart.Butlikethepinsandneedlesyougetwhenyourfoot

goestosleep,thesuddenrushoffeelingispainful.Knowingme,Iwon’tbeabletocontainitforlong.

Lukefollowsmygaze.“Uh,yeah,we’regettingmarriedattheendofJune.”
“That’s...well,that’sreally...,”Itryagain.Butmytonguefeelslikeadrysponge,andthewords

won’tcome.

BecausethelasttimeIsawLuke,hewasinEmily’sbed—theonethatwasfourfeetfrommineinour

dormroom—burieddeepinsideher.

Ihadcomehomeearlyfromclass,soIsawhimandEmilyrightawaywhenIwalkedintotheroom.

Therewasnowarning,noominousforeshadowing—justthetwoofthemtangledinsheetsandeachother.
Andthesounds.Irememberstandingtherecoveringmyears.Emilylookedoverandsawme,andinthat
moment,Iknewshewassadbutnotsorry.

Iturnedandranlikethedevilwasatmyback,andIneversawLukeagain.
“Youhadanapartment,”Isaynow,becausethememoriesarespillingoutlikerainfromastormdrain.

“Whydidyoutwodoitinmyroom?”

Lukegoespale,becauseIhavebreachedtherulesofetiquettethatkeeppeoplefrommakingscenes

andembarrassingthemselves.Ihavedefiledtheinnersanctumofthissoothingcoffeehouse,withitsdark
woodfurnitureandpleasantaroma.ButInevergottosayonewordtoLukeafterhecheated.Notabout
howmyheartsplinteredintouselessfragments.OrhowIdidn’tknowwhattodowithallthatanger.Or
how,sickasitwas,Ilovedhimfortoolongafterward.

“Sam,”hestarts,buthedoesn’tknowwhattosayeither,andhiswordsfizzle.
Thecaféhasgonequiet,andallIhearisanoddbuzzinginmyears.Thecouplesittingnexttousis

staringatmeasItakedeepbreathsandstrugglenottoloseit.Thegirlhasapinknoseringthatmatches
thestreakinherhair.Shelooksdownwhenmyeyesmeethers,butit’stoolate;Ialreadyreadherpity.

EmilystandsupandcomestoLuke’sside,asifI’veattackedhimandheneedsherprotection.They

areaunitedfront,andI’moutnumbered.

IneverthoughtI’dhavetofacethishumiliationagain.Notsurprisingly,it’sjustasshittyasthefirst

time.Itakeastepback.Andthenanother.Retreatfeelslikemyonlyoption.

“Itwasalongtimeago,”Emilysays,likethatmakeseverythingokay.Asthoughthere’sanexpiration

dateonbetrayalandheartache.“Don’truinthisforusbybeingpetty.”

“Petty?”Irepeat.
“Haven’tweallmovedon?”sheasks,tuckingaredstrandofhairintoplace.
Myangerflares—awelcomerelief,becauseitlancesthepainandweaknessseepingoutofme.Bless

Emilyandherbitchycomment;shehaskilledcowardly,dumbstruckSam.

IturntoLuke.“Shedoallyourtalkingnow?Wereyoualwaysthismuchofapussy,oristhatanew

thing?”

Luke’sfaceturnsdisapprovingandcold.Irememberthatlookwell,andforthebriefestmomentIfeel

thefamiliardiscomfortofdisappointinghim.Luckily,it’sabrief,phantomfeelingthatIdon’thavetocare
aboutanymore.

“Youneverwereveryclassy,”Emilysays.
Luke’seyesdarttothefloor,buthestayssilent.
Ibarkoutabitterlaugh.“Yes.IshouldpaintaportraitofyouspreadingyourlegsforLukeandhangit

intheLouvre.”

IturnbacktoLukeandignoreEmily.Shewasnevertheproblem.“HowintheworlddidIeverdatea

spinelesslittlepricklikeyou?”

Hisshouldersslump.
RidiculingEmilyfeelsamazing.BelittlingLukefeelsevenbetter.ButIknowinthelongrun,nothing

goodwillcomeofit,andI’llbetheoneleftwithanemotionalhangovertomorrow.

Idon’twanttobe“angrygirl”anymore.SoIturnandleave,justlikeIdidtwoyearsago.Exceptthis

time,I’mchoosingtowalkaway.

“What’swrong?”LizzieaskswhenIgethome.

ThankGodsheknowsmesowell.Sparesmefromtryingtopretendeverything’scool.
Isitonthecouchandstareintospace.Lizziesitsdownnexttome.
“Whatisit?You’refreakingmeout.”
“IsawLukeandEmily.”
Lizziefoldsherlegsunderneathherbody,settlinginforaserioustalk.“Crap.Howdiditgo?”
“Imadeafoolofmyself,obviously.”Isinkintothecouch.“Youknow,I’vefantasizedaboutthis

momentbefore.ButIwasalwaysonthearmofsomehottie,lookinggorgeousandunaffected.Instead,I

spilledcoffeeonmyselfandalmostcried.”

“I’msureyouwereamazing.Andyou’reallowedtodowhateveryouwant.They’rethejerks,notyou.

Youdon’thaveanythingtoprove.”

IpluckatthehemofmyT-shirt.“They’regettingmarriedinJune.”
Lizzieputsherhandonmyshoulder.“IfLukebeggedyoutotakehimback,wouldyou?”
“Hellsno.”I’mrelievedthatIactuallymeanthat.
“Thenwhyareyousweatinghim?”
“Don’tknow.Ishouldn’tcarethatthey’regettingmarried.”
Truthis,LukeandEmilyareaperfectmatchmadeinhell.IwasplacedinadormroomwithEmily

freshmanyear.Shewasanervouslittlething—thetypeofgirlthattalkedinawhisperanddisappeared
downbackstaircases.Sheconfidedinmethatshe’dalwayshadahardtimemakingfriends,sowestarted
hangingout.Idraggedhertoparties,invitedhertodinnerwithfriends.Lukehadn’tlikedher—saidshe
wasuptight.Butreally,itwasn’tasurprisethathechangedhismind.Lukewantedsomeonetofollowhis
lead,andEmilyneededananchor.

IfIhadmarriedLuke,hewouldhaveresentedme,andImighthavemurderedhisjudgmentalass.“She

didmeafavor,”Iadmit.

“That’snotwhatImean,exactly,”Lizziesays,interruptingmyvengefulthoughts.“It’sbeenalongtime

sinceLuke.Whyareyoulettinghimkeepyoucelibateandmiserable?”

“I’mnot.I’vehookedupwithotherguys.”
“Exactly.Hookups.Nothinglongerthanafewweeks.Andtheywereallquestionable.”
“Notallofthem.Whataboutthatguy,Dane?”
“Really?Youcalledhimfootfetishguy.”
Yeah,anditturnedout“fetish”didn’tjustmeanhelikedthewayIlookedinheels.Thatwasa

shocker.“You’renotmakingagoodcasehere.Mostguysaren’tworththeeffort.”

“Uh-huh,”shesays,throwingherblondhairoveroneshoulder.“Butsomeare.Kindaseemslikeyou

pickthelosersonpurpose.”

“WhystartsomethingwithaguywhenI’llbeleavingformedschool?”
Lizziegivesmethestinkeye,becausesheseesthroughthatexcuse.SheknowsI’mscaredoflosing

myshitoveranotherguy.WhenLuketoldmehewasgettinghisMBA,IappliedtofiveschoolssoIcould
transferandlivewithhimwhereverheendedup.Theyhadn’thadthebestpre-medprograms,andI
wouldhavebeenleavingmyfamilyandfriends.Butatthetime,Ididn’tcare.Iwasreadytogiveupso
muchforLuke,andhehadn’tbeenworthit.

Idon’tneedtobeafooltwiceinonelifetime.
Lizzieispersistent,asusual.“You’vegotatleastfourmonthsuntilyouleaveSanJose.Whynotspend

qualitytimewithsomeoneuntilthen?Justtogetyourselfbackoutthere?”

“We’llsee,”Isay,standingupandheadingforthekitchen.“I’mofficiallyoverthisconvo.Tellme

what’sgoingonwithyou.”

Lizziefollowsme,forsomereasonbreakingoutintohercelebrationdance,hertinybuttshakingback

andforth.“Ihavenews,”shesays.“Jeffismovinghere.Inthreeweeks.”

“Wow!That’s,umm...tellmeallaboutit.”Mysmilefeelslikeit’sgoingtocrackmycheeksinhalf.

Lizzie’stooexcitedtonotice,whichisgood.Idon’twanttorainonherparade.SheadoresherbigUtah
family,andtohaveasiblingwithherisadreamcometrue.

“Hegotajobataventurecapitalfirm.Hisfantasyjob.He’llbeworkingamilefromhere.”
“That’samazing.”Itakechickenandvegetablesoutoftherefrigeratorandsetthemonourtiledbeige

counterasIpictureJeff.Longchin,goofygrin,andasetofshouldersIwouldn’tmindbeingperchedon.

I’veonlymethimonce,butitwasmemorable.Iwonderifhewouldsaythesame,orifI’vebeenlong
forgotten.

“Heneedstofindanapartment,”Lizziesays.
“Thatshouldbedoable.”
Somethinginmytonegivesmeaway—probablyforgottodialdownthefakeperky—andLizzie

frowns.

“IknowJeff’snotyourfavorite,buthereallyisagoodperson,”shesays.
“Ofcourseheis.He’syourbrother.”
Excepthedidn’tseemlikeagoodguyatfirst.WhenJeffcameouttovisitlastyear,heandIwere

forcedonadoubledatewithLizzieandRyan—theguyshewasseeingbackthen.Ihadn’tbeeninagood
mood,andIdon’tthinkJeffhadeither.Ormaybeweirritatedeachother.

Eitherway,whentheyshovedusinthebackofRyan’scartogether,sparksflew.AtsomepointI

accusedJeffofbeingsexist,becausehehadthisretroJohnWaynethinggoingonthatdidn’tsitrightwith
me.Bytheendofthenight,mytunehadchanged.Alot.

Lizziefrowns.“Thenwhydon’tyoulikehim?”
WhatIwouldn’tgivetobeamuchbetterliar.
“Idolikehim.”Alittletoomuch,infact.“Whatmadehimdecidetomove?”Ibusymyselfwith

washingmyhandsandgrabbingaglassfromthecabinet.

“He’sbeingvague,butIthinkhewantstogetawayfrommyfamily.Heneedsachange.”Lizziedigs

outapotfromthecabinetandfillsitwithwater.“I’mhopingtohookhimupwithsomecoolgirls.”

IalmostdoaspittakewiththewaterI’msipping.“Pimpingforhimalready?”
“Iwanthimtohavesomefun.Hecanbealittleuptight.”
MaybeLizziedoesn’tknowherbrotherlikeshethinksshedoes.Becausehehasafeistyside,too.It’s

likelyhisniceguyroutineisgenuine,butIsawbehindthecurtainintoJeff’spassionatenature—both
whenwewerearguing,andafter.Idon’twanttobeinhiscrosshairsagain;itmademehaveallkindsof
feelings.Weird,panicky-typefeelings.

Nottomentionit’sprobablyimmoraltolustafteryourbestfriend’sbrother.Iwasn’traisedwith

religionsoI’malittlefuzzyonthat.

Lizziescoopsriceintothewaterandputsalidon.“Iwanttohelphimrelax.Hetakeshimselftoo

seriouslysometimes.Andthenheendsupwiththesegirlsthatwanthisinitialsontheirtowelsandhe
freaksout.”

I’llbet.Jeffhideshistrueselfbehindpleasantmannersandagood-ol’-boycharm.He’sthetypethat

willpullyourchairoutforyou.Butbyhisownadmission,he’salsotheonewhowillwaituntilyoufall
forhim,decideheisn’tinlovewithyou,andthenpullthatsamechairoutfromunderyousothatyouend
uponyourass.

Igrabsomecoconutmilkfromthefridgetomakemysauce.“I’msureyou’llgethimtolightenup.”
“Promisemeyou’llgivehimachance.”
ThenightImetJeff,LizziespentsometimemakingoutwithRyanoutsideoursuite,whileJeffandI

hadourownintenseencounterontheothersideofthedoor.ButLizzieknowsnothingaboutthat.Soshe
doesn’tunderstandthatheandIhavealreadyagreedtomutuallydislikeeachother.Orsomething.Ithink.
Itwasallabitconfusing.AndI’mnotlookingforconfusing.SotheonethingIamsureofisthatLizzie’s
brotherisnotgoodformyhealth.

Still,sheismybestfriend.IturntoherwiththemostsincerefaceIcanmuster.“OfcourseI’llgive

himachance.”

Chapter2:Jeff

“Ladiesandgentlemen,itlookslikewe’regoingtobestuckonthetarmacforabitbeforewecan
disembark,”thepilotsaysinagarbledvoice.It’shardtohearhimoverthepassengerspreparingtoget
offtheplane.“I’mkeepingtheseatbeltsignlit.Pleaseremaininyourseatsuntilwecangettothegate.”

Ithrowmyheadbackontomyseat.Ihatefalsestarts.Afterthementalanguishofdecidingtoleave

Utah,thedramaticannouncementtomyfamily,andthehastygood-byespeechImadetoKelly,thegirlI
wasdating,it’santiclimactic.

ButatleastI’minCalifornia.
Theguynexttomeisrestless.Icantellbythewayhefidgetsinhisseat.Thewomaninfrontofme

callsouttotheflightattendant,whoisignoringthelitbuttonbecauseshe’shelpinganoldermantworows
down.Peoplearestartingtofantheirfacesbecausethecoolairisoff.

Idon’tblamethem.Wecanallseethegate—soclosebutsofaraway.Still,Istaycalm.Maybe

becausetheagitationlevelisspiking,thecaptaincomesbackontoreminduswecanuseourphones
sincewe’velanded.Gadgetsarepulledoutatlightningspeed,theguynexttomealreadyhittingsendon
ane-mail.

Itakemyphoneoffairplanemodeandseetwelvetexts.AllfromKelly.Iturnmyphoneoff.
Packingmylaptopandmagazinebackintomymessengerbagonlytakesaminute.Ieavesdropona

fewconversations,butthosepeteroutaseveryonestartsnotifyinglovedonestheyhavearrivedbutare
stuck.Eventually,IhavenochoicebuttoturnmyphonebackonandshootLizzieatext.

Welanded,butwe’rebeingheldonthetarmac.Betheresoon

hopefully.

Justgothere.Noworries.I’llbewaiting.

Ah,mybabysister.Ican’twaittoseeher.
Butnowthatmyphoneisstaringmeinthefaceagain,IhavetomanupanddealwithKelly’s

messages.Andtherearesomedoozies.GuessKellydoesn’tlikefalsestartseither.

Youleftsosuddenly...
Youshouldhavetoldmesooner...
Iknowithadonlybeenamonthbut...
Thoughtwehadsomethingspecial...
Onlyajerkdoesthat...

Andtheworstone:
You’renotthemaneveryonesaysyouare.

Herbarbstingsme,butitdoesn’twoundme.BecauseifI’mbeinghonest—thekindofhonestyoucan

onlybeinraremomentsandonlywithyourself—Idon’tcareenoughaboutKellyforhercommenttohurt.
Evenifwehaddatedlonger—ayear,maybetwo—Istillwouldn’thavebeeninvested.That’sthewayit’s
alwaysbeenforme,becausewomenlikeKellyhaveanagenda,andIjustgoalongtogetalong.I’mtoo
afraidtobreakupwiththemortotellthemthetruthuntilit’ssodirethattheirparentsarecallingme
“son,”andeveryonehasweddingbellsintheireyes.Then,andonlythen,doIforcemyselftodotheright
thing,andthewomanhatesmeforit.Assheshould.

SowhatKellydoesn’tunderstandisthatitwasakindnessonmyparttoleave.
Justwhenthemoodaroundmesours,andthecrowdseemsreadytobreakopentheemergencyexit,

thecaptaintellsuswe’reheadingtothegate.Afewpeopleclap,andbeforeweknowit,we’vereached
thefreedomoftheterminal.

Nomatterwhatairportyoulandin,theyallfeelhectic.Somearebrighter,somearenewer,butevery

singleoneofthemisfilledwithpeopletryingtojuggleallthestuffthey’recarrying.I’mtravelinglight
today,butinmyownway,I’mloadeddownwithadifferentkindofbaggage.

AsIstepofftheplane,aladywithastrollerbumpsintome,andherbaggoesflyingontothedirty

graycarpet.I’malmosthappyforthedistraction.AlittlelesstimeformetothinkaboutthefactthatI’m
uprootingmyentirelifetomovetoacityI’vebeentoonce.Ofcourse,it’snotsomuchthatI’mrunning
towardthisplace.MorelikeI’mscurryingawayfromanother,withmytailbetweenmylegs.

Ibenddowntohelpthewomanpickuptherandomitemsthathavespilledfromherpurse—hairbrush,

pacifier,romancenovel,wallet.

“Thanks,”shesays,asamancomesupbehindherandputshishandsonthestrollerhandle.
“Yourpurseistwiceasbigasitusedtobe,”hesaystothewomanasshestandsup.
Shesmilesathimandputsonearmaroundhiswaist.Thegestureiscasualbutloving,andItryto

ignorethefunnyfeelinginmygut.

Thatcouldhavebeenmylife—almostwas,fouryearsago.Somehowthatmakesmefeelguiltyand

relievedallatonce,butIletthosefeelingsgo.Mysadnesssticksaroundlonger,though.

Ileavethehappyfamilybehindandwindmywaythroughthecrowdstothebaggagecarousel.AsI

standandwait,myphonepings.It’sMom,alreadycallingtocheckonme,soIletitgotovoicemail.

ItakemyoneoversizeduffelbagandheadoutsidetothecurbwhereLizzieiswaiting.
Ihaven’tseenherinawhile,andshelooksdifferent.Herfaceismaturing—nolongertheroundface

ofagirl,buttheleanerfaceofawoman.Plus,shehasacertainglow.WhenIleanovertohugher,I’m
surprisedbyhowcomfortingitis.

Onethinghasn’tchanged:Lizzietalksmyearoffallthewaytoherplace.Ismileandnodinallthe

rightspots,butsheknowsmetoowell.

“AmItalkingtoomuch?”Shetriestolookatmesidewaysasshedrives.
She’sstillinthebeat-upHondashe’shadforages.I,ontheotherhand,needabiggercar.Preferably

American.ItkilledmetosellthetruckIdroveinUtah—thatthingwasaworkhorse.ButIdon’tneedit
outhere.I’llbedamnedifIgetoneofthoselittlehybridcarsthatlookslikeanegg,though.I’mbuyingan
SUV,firstthingIcan.

“Myearsarebleeding,butotherthanthat...”Ilaugh.
Lizzieparksinagarage,andwewalkacrosstheSanJoseStatecampustohersuite.TheFebruary

skiesareovercast,butit’sdryandsnowless—alreadyanimprovementoverUtah.Studentsarehustlingto
andfromclasses,someofthemstillinshortsandflip-flops.Theyseemcarefreeandhappy,eventhough
they’reprobablyallstressedoutandoverlyscheduled.Littledotheyknowthatschoolisnothing
comparedtoworkingfull-timeandbeingoutintherealworld.

“I’msothrilledyou’removinghere,”Lizziesays,hervoicequietandsoft.“You’rebringingapiece

ofhomewithyou.”Shestepsinfrontofmeandgivesmeaproperhug.

Thisgirlkillsme.Shehassincethedayshewasborn.Imayonlyhavebeenthree,butIknewI’dmet

mymatchthemomentIsawMomholdingLizzieinthehospital.

“I’mhappy,too.”AndforonceI’mnotsayingthatoutofhabit.I’mproudthatItookachanceand

madeachange.Butthat’sgoingtotakeawhiletosinkin.

Lizzie’splacelookslikeitdidlasttimeIwashere,whichisstrangebecauseit’sadifferentsuite.I

guessalltheroomsinthisbuildingarethesame.SortoflikemylifeinUtah:Everythingwasavariation
onasingletheme.

“Howcomeyounevermovedoffcampus?”Iask.
“Toomuchhassleandjustasexpensive.AndSamlikesbeingclosetoherclasses.”
Yes,Sam.Darkhair,bottomlessbrowneyes,andthepersonalityofanangryrhino—onlyless

charming.Except...

“YousureSam’sokaywithmestayinghere?”IaskLizzieasIthrowmybaginherroom.“Itshouldn’t

beforlong.Ialreadyputsomeapartmentapplicationsin.”Ishouldhavegottenahotel,butLizziemadea
bigdealaboutit.

“Absolutely,”shesays,waytooquickly.“Whatneighborhoodsdoyouwanttolookattomorrow?

Therearesomecuteareasoutsideofdowntownthatyoumightlike.”

“I’mopentowhereverIcanaffordtherent.Imostlywanttolearnmywayaround.”
“Withyourfancyjob,Ithinkyou’lldofine.”
LifeataVCfirmisn’tasstableasLizziethinks,butI’llleavehertoheroptimism.
Webothflopontothecouch,whichisindustrialgrayandalmostascomfortableasitlooks.
“Howarethingswithyou?”Iask.
Shesmilesatme—carefreeandhappyinawayI’veneverseenherbefore.Iknowhernewboyfriend

isresponsibleforthat.

Ichuckle.“Ah,enoughsaid.SpeakingofMr.Wonderful,willJudebearoundwhileI’mhere?”
“He’scomingoverfordinnertonight.”Lizzie’svoicecontainsatwingeofnervousness.
“What’swrong?”
Lizzielooksdownatherhandandplayswithhernail.“Iknowyouweren’tthrilledabouttheRyan

andJudesituation.”

She’snotwrong;Idon’tlovethatLizzieisdatingherex-boyfriend’sbrother.Imetbothbrotherslast

timeIvisited,andJudeseemslikeahandful.Plus,eventhoughRyangaveLizzieandJudehisblessing,I
can’thelpbutfeelthatthesituationwillgetmessyonceRyangetshomefromwhereverheis.

“Isureashellshouldn’tbegivingyouadviceaboutrelationships.Ifyou’rehappy,I’mhappy.”
“Ireallyam.”
There’sawholeworldinLizzie’ssmile,andalotshe’snotsaying:thatshelovesJude,thatshewants

tojumpinwithbothfeetandneverlookback,thathe’stheone.Iknowmysister.

“That’swrittenalloveryourface,babygirl.”
“Yeah,probably.”Sheblushesalittle.“I’mbringingJudehomeduringspringbreak.”
Ourfatherisextremelytraditional.HehadashotgunproppedupbythedooreverytimeLizziebrought

anewguyhome—justincase.IusedtothinkthatwasexcessiveuntilLizzie’scollegeboyfriend.Iknow
hehurtherinsomeway;shewon’ttellmethedetails,whichishowIknowitwasbad.“Let’shopeDad
doesn’tshoothim.”

Sheshakesherhead.“Thatwouldbeashame.”
Webothlaugh,butthesounddiesinmythroatwhenthedooropensandSamwalksin.Sheisas

beautifulasIremember.Hermagnificentassisencasedinyogapants,andshewearsasportsbrathat
accentuateseverycurve.Honestly,that’sallsecondarytoherhugedoeeyes,whichareherbestfeature.
ButIcan’tlookatthemrightnow.Icanfeelmyheartsputteringtoagrindinghalt,soItakeadeepbreath
andremindmyselfthatwedon’tlikeeachother.OrIthinkthat’swhatwedecided.Hardtoknow,because
atthetime,Iwasspillingmygutslikeababyandputtingmytonguedownherthroat.Musthavebeen
temporaryinsanity.

Maybeshe’ssoftenedtowardmesincethen.

“Hi,Jeff,”shesays,beatingmetothepunch.“Goodtoseeyouagain.”Hersmileisicecoldandone

hundredpercentfake.So,heropinionofmehasn’tchanged.

“Hi.Nicetoseeyou,too,”IsaywiththebrightestsmileIcan.Twocanplaythisgame.
“Youjustgoforarun?”Lizzieasksher.
“Yeah.I’mgoingtojumpintheshower.Wedoingdinnerhere?”
Mybrainisstuckbackattheword“shower.”
“Definitely.I’mgoingtotakeJefftolookaround,butwe’llbebackbysix.”Lizziemotionstoward

me,whichsnapsmeoutofmyfog.

“Cool.Ihearyou’restayingwithusforalittlewhile.”Sam’slookinginmygeneraldirection,butnot

rightatme.

“Yep.Thankssomuchforofferingtoletmestay.”
Myexaggeratedtoneisnotlostonher.She’sobservant,thisgirl.Hereyesflashforasecond,because

sheandIbothknowshedoesn’twantmehere.MaybeitwasbecauseIsoundedlikeatotalidiotthenight
wemet.Ormaybeitwasthatkiss.Eitherway,I’mnotgoingtobendoverbackwardtobenicetoherif
she’sstillholdingagrudge.

Howniceitisnottohavetobeniceforachange.
Sherecoversquicklyandgivesmethatbeauty-pageantsmileagain.“Oh,anytime.”
Asshewalksaway,Iswearsheshakesherassatme.Whatkindofmixedmessageisthat?Myjaw

goestense.Imaybeaneasygoingguy,butshejustwavedaredflag,andrightnow,withthiswoman,I
feellikeabull.

Shewantsachallenge?I’llgiveherone.

SanJoseisahugesprawlofacity—morethanIcanexploreinoneday.Lizzietakespityonmeandstays
relativelyclosetodowntown,sincethat’swhereI’llbeworking.Bythetimewegethome,I’veseen
Japantown,LittleItaly—whichwasextremelylittle—allofdowntown,andafewniceneighborhoodsjust
beyond.

Thistownneedstobebig,becauseitholdsallkindsofpeople—old,young,families.They’reall

movingfast,likethey’retryingtokeepup.IguessyouhavetoswimhardinSiliconValleywaters.

WhenwegetbacktoLizzie’splace,shetellsmetomakemyselfathomewhileshecooksdinner,soI

grabstufftosetthetable.

I’mgettingaforkintothecorrectpositionwhenSamcomesoutofthekitchenwithsomedrinks.
ShelooksatwhatI’mdoingandsmirks.“Youdoameanplacesetting.IbetyouwereaBoyScout.”
“Iwas,actually,”Isay,managingtokeepmyvoicecalm.LookslikeSam’sinnerbitchisdyingto

comeoutagain.Bringiton.“Mademegoodatallkindsofinterestingthings.”

ThatsoundedalotmoresexualthanImeantitto,butthisgirlrattlesmycage.Maybebecausethe

minuteshemetme,sheactedlikeIwasadickhead,whichisunusual.Iam,withoutadoubt,thegoodguy.
TheoneyouwanttobringhometoMom.Theguywhohelpsyouputyourcoatonandcaresaboutyour
feelings.ButSamlooksatmelikeI’mthehusbandthat’sgoingtoscrewthenanny—likeI’m
unpredictableandataddangerous.Noonehaseverlookedatmethatwaybefore.It’ssoannoying,andso
incrediblyhot.

Shecan’tthinkofanimmediatereply,andI’mpleasedthatmysuddenconfidenceflustersher.
“Yes,Ibet,”shesays,donninghermask.“Helpingoldladiescrossthestreet.Frolickingwithother

boysthroughthewoods.Thatkindofstuff?”

You’dthinkI’dbeaboverisingtothatbait.Nope.

“Umhmm.Andalwaysbeingpreparedforlong,hardtasks.”Imoveclosertoher.Shetakesastep

back,butIfollow.TurnsoutIlikethechase.“RidingthingsoutuntilIgetthejobdone.Learninghowto
bethorough.”

Sheputsherhandonmychesttostopmefrommovingcloser,andIrealizeI’vegonetoofar.Partly

becauseImightbescaringher,andpartlybecausehertouchislikeadefibrillatortotheheart.

Iclosemyeyesandshakemyhead.NeverinmylifehaveIbeendisrespectfultoawoman.My

parentswoulddisownme.I’mabouttoapologize,whenIhearherchuckle.

“Ishouldhaveknown,”shesays.
“What?”Ifinallylookherstraightintheeye,andit’sasdevastatingasitwasthefirsttime.Maybe

more.

“You’relikeLizzie.Softexterior,ballsofsteel.”
Seeingherlipsformtheword“balls”makesmystomachtighten.“Yeah,familytrait.Wedon’tliketo

backdownwhenitcounts.”Idon’tgiveherthesatisfactionoftellingherthatI’veneverbeenthis
confrontationalwithotherwomen.

WhenSamsmiles—reallysmiles,notthatcynicalbullshitsmirkofhers—it’slikeaninvitationtoa

party.Thecornerscomeupfirst,followedbyherlips,untilhercheeksliftandhereyesspark.Hertongue
pokesoutthetiniestbitbetweenherteeth,andtheeffectonmeisinsane—starburstsandsynapsesfiring
andFourthofJuly.

ShealmostmakesmeforgetwhoIam—theguyvoted“MostDependable”inhighschool—andIwant

todragherintoherroomandgivehertherideofherlife.Whoarewekidding?Ofmylife.

I’mstillstandingthere,slack-jawed,whenLizziewalksinwithaheapingbowlofpasta.Sam

recoversfasterthanIdo,maybebecauseIdon’taffecther,ormaybebecauseshe’sabetterliar.Either
way,I’mthankful.MayberememberingthatSamismysister’sbestfriendwillhelpmestopactinglikean
idiot.

There’saknockonthedoor,whichisahandyexcuseforSamtomakeagetaway.Sheanswersit,and

Judecomesstrollingin.Jude’sthekindofmoody,insanelytallGQguythatmostmenwouldbethreatened
by.Exceptme,becausehe’sdatingmylittlesister.Soit’smyjobtomakesurehe’stheonewho’s
intimidated—oratleastmildlyconcerned.

Hesurprisesmewithafirmhandshakeandawarmsmile.
“Hey,man,”hesays.“Goodtoseeyouagain.”
WhenImetJude,Ithoughthewassocompletelyscrewed.I’mnotsurewhyitwassoobvioustome

andnoteveryoneelse.Hecouldn’ttakehiseyesoffLizzie,eventhoughshewasdatinghisbrother—like
hewasdesperate.Atthetime,itmademesuperuncomfortable.BecauseLizzieismysister,becauseIfelt
alittlesorryforhim,butalsobecause—despitethefactthatI’vebeeninseverallong-termrelationships
—Ihadneverwantedawomanthatwaybefore.

Nowthough,Judeseemsmorerelaxed.HiseyesstillfollowLizzieasshesetsthefooddownonthe

table,butthere’saconfidencethere.Likeheknowsshe’slookingathimthesameway.Whichsheis.

“Justintime,”Lizziesays,wrappingherarmsaroundhimandpullinghimclose.Sheistryingtohold

back,butshekisseshimanyway.

“Youevernoticewe’reinthissituationalot?”IaskSam.Thisgetsanothersmileoutofher.Which

meanssheremembersthenightwemet.

Itmayhavebeenoverayearago,butIrememberit,too.Invividdetail.
“Yuck,Icanpracticallyfeelthemmakingoutthroughthedoor,”Ihadsaid.
ThishadforcedalaughoutofSam—thefirstoneI’dgottenfromherallnight.Ididn’tblameher:

Lizziehadforcedusonadoubledate,andweknewnothingabouteachother.“Yeah.ButI’mhappyfor

her.”

Exceptshehadn’tlookedit.Sheseemed—heartbroken.Itwasreflectedinhereyesandthesetofher

shoulders,andthewayshewasalmosthuddlingintoherself.Tome,heremotionswerehiddenbehinda
paneofglasssothinitmayaswellhavebeennonexistent.AnditbecamevitaltomethatImakeherfeel
better.

“Thenhowcomeyoulooksosad?”
Thatstirredupherpride,andshetriedtomakeherfaceexpressionless.Irememberadmiringher

effort.

“Itwillpass.”Sheheadedforherroom,buttherewasnowayIcouldletherleave.
“Sam...”
“Yeah?”Sheturnedaroundandstiffenedup,likeshewasreadytodobattle.
Itwassodamnfrustrating,becauseIwantedtosmashthroughherpunyshield—crushitundermy

heelsuntilitwaspowder.ButIdidn’tknowhow.Becauseclearlysomeguyhadgottentoherbeforeme
anddoneanumberonherheart.

“Whoeverhewas,hewasbeneathyou,andyou’rebetteroffwithouthim.”
Sheshrugged.“Ialreadyfiguredthatout.It’slivingitthat’shard.”
HadIeverfeltthatway?Iwondered.WereanyofthewomenI’dbeenwithsonecessarytomethat

I’dfeltbrokenwhenthey’dgone?Ialreadyknewtheanswer.

“Youmusthavereallylovedhim.”
“That’sthebitchofit,isn’tit?”shesaid.“Onceyoureallylovesomeone,theyhavethepowertohurt

youforever—evenifit’sonlyinyourmemory.”

I’mpulledbackintothepresentbyLizzieandJude,whofinallysitdownatthetable.Wepassaround

Lizzie’sshrimppastaasIavoidlookingatSam.Eventhememoryofherpacksawallop.

“Whatplacesareyouguyslookingattomorrow?”Judeasks.
“AcouplehighrisesdowntownandanapartmentinSantaClara.Itwouldbeniceifanyofthemhad

morethanacubicfootofoutdoorspace,butthatseemsrare,”Isay.

Judepassesmethebread.“AguyIknowisleavinghisplaceinafewweeks.It’sastudiointheback

ofsomeone’shouse.It’ssmall,butithasayardandit’sclosetodowntown.Wantmetohookyouup?”

“Thatwouldbegreat,thanks.KindofweirdhowonceIdecidedtoleaveUtah,allthepiecesfellinto

place.”

“Whatfinallymadeyoudecidetotaketheleap?”Judeasks.
“ItwasahardcallbecauseIlovedmyjob,andmyfamilyisthere.”
Buttherewasthisconstantitchundermyskintodomore.Buteverythinghadbeguntofeelroutine.

ButIlookeduponedayandrealizedIwasboringashell—datingthesametypeofwomanoverandover
whiletryingtosidestepmyparents’expectations.

“Itfeltliketime,”Isay.“Ineededsomebreathingroom.I’mnotsurehowtoexplainwhatit’slike

beingtheoldestoffivekidsinmyfamily.”

Judelaughs.“Noexplanationnecessary.I’veheardthestories.AndIknowhowitisbeingtheguyin

charge.”

IshouldhaverealizedJudewouldunderstand,sinceheraisedhisbrotheraftertheirmomdied.Kind

ofpettytobecomplainingabouthowmuchresponsibilityIhadathome,allthingsconsidered.Makesme
examineJudeinadifferentlight.

Samlookspuzzled.“Idon’tgetit.I’manonlychild.”
“Jeffalwayshadtobehave,”Lizziesays.“Nofightingortattoosforhim.Myparentswereconstantly

saying,‘Yourbrothersandsisterlookuptoyou.Youhavetobeagoodexample.’”

Inodinagreement.“Don’tgetmewrong;myfolksaregreat.Butevennowtheyexpectahellofalot

outofme.”

“Butyou’reagrown-assman,”Samsays.
Gladshenoticed.“True.Andthat’swhyI’mmovinghere.Tohavesomefun.”IlookdirectlyatSam

asIsaythis.

Sheswallowshard.“Wellthen,BoyScout,youbettermakeitgood.”
Wealltoasttothat.

Chapter3:Sam

Areyouokay?

thetextasks.

Threelittlewordsthatrollthroughmelikethunder.Afterallthistime,nowLukedecidestocareabout

mywell-being?Asthoughhehasarighttoask,oreventousemynumber.Iwouldhavethoughthewould
havedeleteditfromhisphonebynow.Butthenagain,Ihaven’tdeletedhis.

Thenerveofthatasshat—toassumeI’mamessbecauseIranintohimandhiswedding-planning

Pinterestwife.

Mylabpartner,Marcus,looksovermyshoulder.He’ssortofintense,buthe’sniceenough.Even

thoughI’mFilipina,IfeelmoreofakinshipwithMarcus,who’sMexican,thanIdowiththeotherAsians
intheclass,whoaremostlyChinese,Korean,andVietnamese.I’veheardpeoplesaythatFilipinosare
likeLatinoAsians,andmaybethere’ssometruthtothat.

“Arewestartingthislab,orareyougoingtotextyourboyfriendallday?”Marcusasks,withafrown

sosevereit’salmostcomical.

“What’sgotyourpantiesinatwist?”
“Nothing,”hesays,buthe’smumblingtohimselfunderhisbreath.
IfyouwanttoknowhowMarcusisfeeling,youonlyneedtolookathishair.It’slongandwavy,and

hestylesitfifteendifferentways.I’vestartedtochartwhateachstyleindicates.Today,it’sinahalf
ponytail,whichmeanshe’sinaseriousmood.

“Denisebrokeupwithme,”hefinallyadmits,halfwaythroughthelab.
“Aww.Thatsucks.I’mreallysorry.”
MarcusandIfocusonpouringoutbleachanddyes,andstartdeterminingconcentrationswithour

spectrometer—drowningoursorrowsinchemicalkinetics.Weargueovercalculationsforawhile,until
we’resatisfiedwiththeanswers.

Myphonebuzzesagain.AnothertextfromLuke.
Iknowthatwasawkwardatthecafe.

AsMomwouldsay,“Goddessdammit.”Mymother—theFilipinaex-Catholic,whomarriedanItalian

hippiefromSantaCruzandproducedme.

Actually,itwasalotmoreawkwardtocatchyoutwofucking,

Iwrite

back.

Probablyshouldhavethoughtthatthroughabitmore—eitherignoredLukeorfiguredouttheperfect

response.Sadly,I’mnotbuiltthatway.Attheveryleast,he’llprobablystoptexting.

Iseewhymyparentskeeppressuringmetomeditatemoreoften.TheyseemalotcalmerthanIam.
“Seriously?”Marcusasks,pointingtomyphone.“We’realmostdone.”
“Sorry.Problemswiththeex.Asin,Iranintohimandthegirlhecheatedonmewith,andnowhe’s

textingme.”

“Oh.Whatadick.Denisewouldn’ttellmewhyshewasbreakingupwithme,butthenIsawherwith

someguyfromoneofherclasses.”

“Damn,that’scold.It’llgetbetter,Ipromise.Whichdoesn’tmeanshitnow,ofcourse.Keepyourself

busy.Meetsomeoneelse.”

“Easiersaidthandone.Girlscangetsomeoneanytimetheywant.”Marcustakesourbeakersand

othersuppliestothecleaningarea,apparentlydonewiththistopic.

Idon’tblamehim.Buthe’swrongaboutonething:Imightbeabletogetaguy,butthatdoesn’tmean

he’dbeoneworthkeeping.I’mprettysureIattractcheaters,thewayanNBAplayerattractsskanks.

Onthewayoutofthelab,IgiveMarcusaquickslapontheback.“Stayhopeful.Yourperfectgirlis

outtheresomewhere.”

Idon’tbelievethat,butitseemsliketherightthingtosay.

WhenIwalkinthesuite,Ihearwaterpitter-patteringinourporcelainbathtub.SinceLizzie’sinclass,that
leavesJeff.Intheshower.Probablywithlotsofsoap.Hisjacketishangingonahookbythedoor,andthe
scentofhiscolognefillstheair.He’sbeenherealmostaweekandtheamountofspacehetakesupkeeps
multiplyingexponentially—oratleastthat’showitfeels.

LikeIfeared,he’sasniceashepretendstobe.Thedayafterhearrived,hefixedourfaucet.Next,he

boughtenoughgroceriestolastusamonth.Andyesterday,Icaughthimhangingapictureforourneighbor
withthebrokenarm.He’slikeafreakingGoodSamaritan.Andhot.Whichistheproblem.

IlistentoJeff’sshower,wrestlingmyinnerdemonassheconjuresupimagesofallthatcreamyskin.

Ofhimslickingbackhiswet,blondhairwiththosestrongarms—trailsofwatertracingpatternsonhis
abs.Doesheevenhaveafirmstomach?Asmoothchest?Orisitdustedwithhair?Ineedtothinkabout
somethingelse,pronto.

Thisislikebeingtorturedbyamilliontinypinprickseveryday.I’veobviouslygonetoolongwithout

sex.Butthat’sbecausetheemotionlesshookupsI’vehadsinceLukehaveleftmefeelingblahand
unimpressed.Maybeevendepressed.Thehardtruthis,forallmyparents’talkaboutsexualexpression
andfreedom,I’maone-mangirl.ButI’mleavingthissummer,sothatonemanwillhavetowait.

IrealizetoolatethatthewatershutoffwhileIwasnavel-gazing.Thebathroomdooropens,andJeff

comesstrollingoutinatowel.It’swrappedaroundhimtightly,butlowonhiships.Guessthatanswers
theabsquestion.Hehasapatchoflighthaironhischest,andhe’sleanlikeajogger.Butstill,there’s
morethanenoughdefinitiononthatbodytofuelmyimaginationformonths.

Hejerkstoahaltwhenheseesme.“Sorry.Ididn’tknowyouwerehere.”
“Ijust...”Ipointtothedoor.Mewithoutwords.Ararephenomenon.
Sixlong,exhaustingdaysofthisdance.BothofustryingtobeonourbestbehaviorforLizzie’ssake;

neitherofusmeaningitintheleast.Wantingtolikeeachotherbutnotknowingifwe’reallowed.Because
wescrewedeverythingupthefirsttimewemet—mebybeingabitch,himbykissingthestuffingoutof
me.

Whichmademewanthim.AndIkindofhatehimformakingmewanthim.He’smybestfriend’s

brother,sothat’sgottobeallkindsofwrong.Butalso,menlikehimarethedevil.Theycharmandthey
smile,andtheyactsosweet,andthentheyripyourdamnheartout.

It’spossibleIhavesomeissues.
HestartstomoveleftandIstarttomoveright,andwebumpintoeachother.Jeffinstinctivelygrabs

formyshoulderstosteadyme,andwestandlikethatforalongmoment,watertraipsingdownhisneck,
overhischest,andlowerwhereIcan’tseeit.I’mtoobusystaringintothoseintensebrowneyesofhis.

Iinhale.Idon’tmeanto—it’sareflexiverespiratoryresponse.Istartrecitingalltheinvoluntary

humanactionstomyself—sneezing,shivering,stretching—butit’snotworkingbecausehishandsfeel
warmandstrongonmyshoulders.

“Sorry,”hesays,buthedoesn’treleaseme.I’vefeltthosehandsonmebefore—onlyonceandovera

yearago.Butitwasahellofacoupleofminutes—filledwithgentlelipsandsofttouches.Iwonderif
he’srememberingit,too.

“No,itwasmyfault.”Myvoicesoundstoohigh.Istepbackfromhimandgetmyselftogether.This—

fluttering—isannoying.

HeheadsintoLizzie’sbedroom,presumablytogetdressed,soIfocusonmakinglunch.Exceptthat

leavesmymindfreetowallowinmymemoryofthenightJeffandImet.

Irememberhowitterrifiedmethathe’dseenthroughmycrapsoeasily,straighttothesadness

swillingaroundinsideme.

Idon’tknowifithadbeenmymoodorJeff’shonesty,butIhadwantedtotellhimthings.Likehow

Lukewasmyfirstloveandhow,whenhecheatedonme,IthoughtI’dneverheal.AndhoweventhoughI
wasoverhimI’dneverfoundsomeoneelsewhomademefeellikehedid,andIwonderedifIever
would.Worstofall,howI’dletLukemakemedoubtmyownself-worth.Thedesiretosayallthisout
loudhadscaredtheholyhelloutofme.

ButthenImadeaflippantremarkaboutlove,assumingJeffwouldagreeandmoveon.
Instead,Jeff’seyeshadgonealldeer-in-the-headlights,andhisbodyhadbecomeasstillasmarble.“I

wouldn’tknow.Aboutbeinginlove,Imean.”

“Butyou’vehadseriousgirlfriends.Lizziesaidso.”
Heshookhishead.“That’snotthesamething.What’sitlike?”
IwantedtotellJefftoleavemealone,buthelookedlikehisheartwasdanglingrightoutthereforthe

worldtosee.Hewastwenty-sixyearsoldandhadneverbeeninlove.Thatdrewmeupshort,andIhad
toreallythinkaboutit.Becauseitwasaheartfeltquestionthatdeservedagenuineanswer.

“Iguessit’smoreandlessthanit’scrackeduptobe.Andyoufeellikedyingwhenitends.”
Heloweredhishead,asthoughhedidn’twantmetolookathim.“LikeIsaid,Iwouldn’tknow.”
Theslopeofhisshouldersmademesad.“Don’tworry,you’llfindoutsomeday.NotsureifIfeel

enviousorsorryforyou.”

Idon’trememberhow,butJeffandIbothmigratedtowardthelivingroom,awayfromourdoors—

drawntowardeachotherbysharedconfidences.

Hepinchedhisforehead,hismouthinafrown.“I’mnotsureIwilleverfindout.”
WewerecloseenoughthatIcouldseethesmallworrylinesaroundhiseyes.
“Idoubtthat,”Isaid.
“Howdoyouknow?Wemettoday,andIalreadyirritateyou.”
“Eh,sodoalotofpeople.Andyoudon’tlikemeeither.ButIseehowyouloveLizzie,soobviously

you’recapable.Youjusthaven’tfoundtherightpersonyet.”

Hesteppedcloseenoughtotouchme.“HowwillIknowwhenIdo?”Hisvoiceloweredtoahusky

whisper,likehewasfightingthewordsthatkeptflowing.

“Youknowthatimpulse,whenyouseethecoilsonyourstoveturningred,andyouwanttotouch

them?”

Henods.“Youknowitwillburnyourfingers,butyouwanttodoitanyway.”
“Exactly.It’slikethat.”It’spossibleItiltedtowardhim.
“Thatsoundsterrifying.”
“Itis.”
Heraisedhishandslowly,asthoughhedidn’trealizehewasdoingit.Whenittouchedmycheek,my

wholefacetingled.“Howintheworlddidweenduptalkingaboutthis?Wedon’tevenlikeeachother.”

Itippedmyfaceintohispalm.“Absolutely.Wedon’t.”
Andthenhislipstouchedmine—featherlight,andmoretenderthananykissI’dknown.

Iputmyfingerstomylipsnow,whichdragsmeoutofthepast.I’mgladJeff’sstillinLizzie’sroom,

becauseitgivesmetimetoshakeoffthememoryofourkiss.

Whenhecomesout,Jefflooksalmostascuteashedidinthetowel—handstuckedinthepocketsof

hisfadedjeans,asoftT-shirtoverthatwidechest.Hisgoldenhairiswet,buthe’srunacombthroughit.

Twomoreweeksoflivingwithhim.Icankeepittogetherthatlong.Totally.
“Soareweofficiallyinatrucenow?AmIallowedtospeaktoyou?”Heapproachesmelikeaguy

goingtothegaschamber.

“Whatadramaqueen.I’mnotthatscary.Andyouwereholdingyourown.”
“Yeah,IguessIwas,”hesays,likehe’sproudofhimself.
IseehimeyeingthesandwichI’mmaking.“Wantone?”
Hegrabstwopiecesofbread.“Youworkingtonight?”
“Yeah.I’mheadedtothehospitalinanhour.”
“Youworkalotforbeinginschool.”Jeffspreadsmayoonhisbreadlikeit’sgoingoutofstyle.
“There’salotoffatinthat,youknow.”
Hedipshisbutterknifebackinthejar,getsanotherdollopofmayoonit,andproceedstolickthe

knifeclean.

“You’relikeatoddler,”Isay,laughing.
Hecracksupandputshishandoverhismouth,almostlikehe’ssurprisedbythenoise.Itcouldget

addicting,tryingtohelpJeffhavefun.

“I’mguessingyoudidn’teatthiskindofcrapgrowingup.”
Ishakemyhead.“Myparentsarevegans.Theycheatsometimes,though.EspeciallywhenMom’s

cookingFilipino.”

“WhereasmydadandIusedtomakedeerjerky.”
“Gack.Ieatmeat,butthatsoundsnasty.”Icutoursandwichesinhalfandplatethem.
BeforeIcanmovetothetable,Jeffstartstoeatatthecounter.
Icockmyhead.“Youhavesomethingagainstsittingdown?”
“I’vebeenlivingalonetoolong,Iguess.”
“Noneofthegirlfriendsevermovedin?”Itakehiscueanddiveintomysandwich.
“No.Wewouldhavebeenexpectedtogetmarried.”
Ifreezewiththesandwichmidwaytomymouth.“Areyourparentsawareit’sthetwenty-first

century?”

Hesmiles.“Theyhavedifferentstandards,andthatisnevergoingtochange.Ididcomeclosewiththe

lastgirlfriend,though.”

“Whatstoppedyou?”
Heclosesoneeyeandpeersatmewiththeother.MakeshimlooklikeClintEastwood’shotson.

“Wait,Ithoughtyoudidn’tlikeme.WhyshouldItellyou?”

Ifakealong-sufferingsigh.“Iguessyou’reokay.”
Thislightshimup.“Justokay?”
“Yeah,youknow.”Iwavemyhandsupanddowninhisdirection.“You’reniceforanuptightwhite

guy.”

“Thatissowrong,”hesays,shakinghisheadandmakingmelaugh.“ButI’lltakeit.”
“Sowhydidn’tyoumarrythelastgirl?”
“Shewassweet.Pretty.Smart.”
“Yeah.Shesoundslikearealterror.Gladyouavoidedthatmess.”Ismileathim,buthesetshisfood

downsuddenly.

“Somethingwasmissing.”Hisvoiceishushed,asthoughhe’sabouttotellasecret.“Itwasallso

agreeable.Ourrelationship,ourdates—hell,evenourfighting.”

He’sstaringatmeintently,butI’mnotgettingit.
“And?”NowI’vegottoknow.WhyisitthateverytimeheandIarealone,weactlikewe’reina

priest’sconfessional?

Herunshishandsthroughhishair,frustrated.“Idon’twantmyrelationshiptobepurelyanintellectual

decision.Likecolumnsonaspreadsheetthataddup.”

“Youwant...passion.”
“Yes.”
Hiseyes—they’rekillingme.“Iwarnedyoubefore.Ithurtslikehellwhenyougetburned.”
“Butthere’snothinglikeit,isthere?”
Ishakemyhead.“No.Idon’tthinkso.”Ibarelygetthewordsout.Mylungsfeeltoobig,likethey’re

goingtosqueezemyotherorgansoutthroughmythroat.

“Iwanttoknow,”hesays,hisvoicefilledwithscratchyreedsandthorns.
“No,youdon’t,”Iwhisper.
Andhowdowekeepgettingourselvesinthisposition?IfIleanforwardamillimeter—abreath,

really—Icouldfeelhismouthonmine.Again.Itseemslikeitwouldbethemostnaturalthinginthe
worldtoletthathappen.

Myphonebuzzesinmypocket,startlingme.Ileanwayback,makingtheworldcomebackintofocus.
JeffandIstareateachotherforamomentuntilIpullmyphoneout.
Inevermeanttohurtyou,

Luke’stextsays.

Ishovemyphonebackintomypocket.Ofcoursehedidn’tmeanto.Dotheyever?
“What’swrong?”Jeffasks.
“Ineedtogettowork.”
“Sam...”
“Seeyoulater.”Iscurrytomyroomlikesomeone’sshootingatmyfeet.
It’sgoingtobealongtwoweeks.

Chapter4:Jeff

Iwakeupafterdreamingofdarkeyesandlonglashes,likeIhavefrequentlyinthepastsevendays—
sinceIalmostkissedSamagain.Doesn’tseemtomatterthatshe’savoidingme.Orthat,betweenher
hoursatschoolandthehospitalandallthestuffI’vehadtodoforthemove,we’vebeenbusy.Mynights
arestillfree.

Evenworse,Lizzie’sbeenstayingwithJudesothatIcanhaveherbedroom.SoeveryeveningwhenI

hearSamcomein,Iknowit’sonlymeandherinthissuite.AndallthequickpeeksI’vegottenofheras
shesprintstoandfromthebathroom—aflashofleghere,abareshoulderthere—arebrandedonmy
brain.And,ofcourse,thatnear-kiss.

It’snotjustthephysical,though.There’ssomethingfreeingaboutSam.Shehasnoexpectationsofhow

Ishouldorshouldn’tact.Andwhenwe’renotfighting,itfeelslikewe’vebeenfriendsforalongtime.
Friendswithlotsofsexualtensionthatwecan’tdoanythingaboutbecauseofLizzie,andbecausewe’re
movinginoppositedirections.

Igrabacoffeeonthewaytoworkandgetmyheadinthegame.Firstdaysarealwaysscary,butI’ve

metallthepartnersatthefirm,andIknowwhattheyexpectfromme.Sincewe’reanearly-stageventure
capitalfirm,I’llbemeetingalotofpeopleanddoingatonofresearchinthehopesoffindingthat
diamond-in-the-roughcompanythat’sworthrecommendingtothepartners.

Istepintothebuilding—allwoodandglassandmoney—andtrytoshakeoffmysenseofinferiority.I

didn’tgotoHarvardorStanfordlikeeightypercentoftheassociateshere.Instead,IgotmyMBAfrom
BYUandnetworkedmywayin.ButI’mlowmanonthetotempole,andIknowtheclimbupwillbelong
andball-breaking.Still,thisistheopportunityofalifetime.

Mymentor,Tyler,isoneofthepartnershere.ImethimataBYUstudent–alumnimixer,wherehekept

referringtomeasJerry.WhenIfinallycorrectedhimforcefully,hesaidhewasimpressedIspokeupfor
myselfandspenttherestofthenighttalkingtomeabouthislifeinSiliconValley.Tosayheopenedmy
eyestopossibilitiesisanunderstatement.

Tyler’sassistant—whointroducesherselfasJan—greetsmewhenIwalkinandleadsmeawayfrom

thereceptionistandthroughanotherdoor.Janlooksforty-five,butisprobablytenyearsolderthanthat.
Evenwithaquicklookaround,it’sobvioussheisoneoftheoldestpeopleatthisfirm,apartfromthe
partners.I’mguessingeveryonehereisyoungandeager.ButJanhandlesmewitharuthlessefficiencythat
makesitclearwhysheiswheresheis.

“Here’sthepaperworkyouneedtocomplete,andthenI’llgiveyouaquicktour,”shesays,handing

meayellowfolder.

“Thankyou.IsTyleraroundtoday?”
“Hehadmescheduleyoufora9

A. M.

tomorrow.”Janbrushesherlongdarkhairbackoverher

shoulder.There’sonepurposefulstreakofsilverinit.“Makesurehegivesyouarundownofthepeople
—notjustthework.Ifhedoesn’t,comeaskme.”

JanandIwalkthroughalarge,openspace,withglassconferenceroomsliningtheside.Inthemiddle

oftheofficeareworkareaspepperedwithblackdesksandbrightredchairs.Butthebestpartisthelarge
kitchenstockedwithfoodanddrinks.

“Ireallyappreciatethetour,”Isay.
ThatgarnersabigsmilefromJan,whichmakesherlookstriking.“I’msohappyyouhavemanners.

Wecouldusemoreofthataroundhere.Getsettledin,andletmeknowifyouneedanything.”

Janpointstomyworkspace,whichislikealltheothers.There’snooneatthedesknexttomeright

now,butIcheckoutthephotosonittogetanideaofwhatmyneighborlookslike.Thereheisatthetop
ofMachuPicchu,andthenwithabunchofguysonaraftingtrip.Amugfromhisimpressivealmamateris
nestlednexttohiscomputer.IthinkIgetthegist.I’malittlelessenthusiasticaboutputtingupthepicture
ofmylasthuntingtripwithmydad.ButIwillanyway.

AfterIfigureouthowtologintomycomputerandfilloutmypaperwork,Iheadtothekitchen,

knowingthat’sthebestplacetomeetpeople.

Sureenough,therearesomewomenhangingoutbythecoffeemachine.AsIpouracup,oneofthem

bumpsintome,andmycoffeesloshesovertherimontothecounter.

“Oh,I’msosorry,”shesays,grabbingapapertoweltomopupthespill.
“Noharm,nofoul.”
SheturnstolookatmeandIcan’thelpbutnoticehowcutesheis.Glossybrownhair,prettyhazel

eyes.Shelooksyoungerthanmebyafewyears—mayberightoutofcollege.

“Areyounewhere?”sheasks.
“Firstday.I’mJeff.”Ireachoutandshakeherhandandsheblushesthetiniestbit.
“I’mAndrea.Mr.Paulson’sassistant.”
“Nicetomeetyou.”Wemaketheusualpleasantries;sheaskswhereI’mfrom,Iaskhowlongshe’s

workedhere.Sheseemsniceenough,butIneedtodiveintosomeactualwork,soImakeanexit.

Atnoon,Andreapopsintomyofficespace.“Ifiguredsinceitwasyourfirstday,youmightwantto

headouttolunchwithsomeofus.”

“Thanks.Soundsgood.”
Networkingisgoingtomakeupaboutseventy-fivepercentofthisnewjob—maybemore—sonowis

asgoodatimeasanytostart.IgrabmycoatandfollowAndreatothelobby,wheresheintroducesmeto
afewotherpeople,includingEli—ashort,stockyguywho,strangelyenough,high-fivesme.

“SoJeff,howthehelldidyougetherefromUtah?”Eliasksmeafterthewaiterdeliversourfood.
“Ifollowedtheopportunity.Plus,mysisterliveshere,soIknewy’allhadfabulousweather.”
“Yoursistermustbehappyyoumoved,”Andreasaysleaningintomeabit.“Youhaveotherfamilyin

Utah?”

“Myparentsandthreebrothers.”
Eliwhistles.“Bigfamily.”
“Ithinkthat’snice,”Andreasays.“Myfamilyliveshere,andwe’rereallyclose.”
Warningbellsgooffinmyhead.
There’ssomethingvaguelyfamiliaraboutAndrea.Buttonedcardigan,classyjewelry,perfecthair,and

asweet,unassumingsmile.AndreaislikeeverygirlI’veeverdated;she’slookingforaguywho’s
permanent.ItellmyselfI’mbeingajudgmentalprickandtrytoenjoymymeal.

“Youlikehockey?”Eliasks.“IhaveSharksseasonticketsifyouwanttocheckoutagamesometime.”
“Yeah,Iplayedhockeyforawhilebackinschool.”
Elinods.“Cool.We’llprobablyspendmostofthegameminglingforwork,though.Neverfails.”
“Doeseverysocialthingbecomework?”
Helaughs.“Prettymuch.It’sallaboutexpandingandleveragingyournetwork.”
“Nodoubt.”Itakealongdrinkofmywater.
“Don’tworry.It’sanexcitingplace.Ithinkyou’regoingtolikeit.”Andrea’ssmilebrightens.

Iheadbacktoworkandtrytoforgetaboutherflirtation,butattheendoftheday,Andreawandersby

again.

“Nicemeetingyou,”shesays.
Yes,that’sme.Nice.

WhenIfinallygetbacktocampus,it’swellpastdark.IwantnothingmorethantocollapseonLizzie’s
bed,butthenext-doorneighborneedshelpbringingingroceriessinceherarmisstillinacast.Icarryher
bagsinandthenputtheheaviestitemsawayforher.

OnceI’mfinallyinthesuite,IthrowmykeysonthecounterandgroanasIloosenmytie.
“Firstdaywasthatbad,huh?”Samasks,comingoutofherroom.It’sraretofindherhomeatthis

hour.Thegirlkeepsthecraziestschedule.She’salreadyinherformofpajamas—cottonshortsandatiny
topwitharainbowpeacesignonit—eventhoughit’sonlyeightthirty.Ireallywishrobeswerestilla
thing—bigfluffyonesthathideverythingtempting.

Isigh.“No,itwasfine.There’regoingtobealotoflongdaysaheadofme.”
Shepointstoherself.“Fouryearsofmedschool.Probablysevenmoreofresidencyandfellowships.

SoIfeelyou.Wantabeer?”

“Thanks.Andthatmuchschoolsoundsawful,bytheway.Yousureyouwanttobeadoctor?”
“Yes,unfortunatelyI’mverysure.”
SamheadstothefridgeandgrabsoneofthebeersIbought.LikeLizzie,shedoesn’tdrink,soit’s

sweetthatshe’sgettingitforme.Buttoreachitshehastobendovertothebottomshelf,andIsuffer
silently.Forgettherobe,thisgirlwouldneedafloor-lengthmuumuutohideherassets.

“Thanks,”Isaywhenshehandsmethebeer.“Anysightingofmysister?”
“She’sstillridingtheJudeExpress.”
“Whydoyousaythesethingstome?”Itakealongpullfrommybottle.
Shesnickers.“Actually,she’sworkingtonight.Ijustreallylikemessingwithyou,though.”
“Yeah?Becauseyou’vebeenignoringmeforthepastweek.”
Herfacefalls,butshedoesn’tsayanything.Instead,shethrowsopentherefrigeratoragainandstarts

pullingfoodfromit.“I’mstarvingsoI’mmakingsteaks.Wantsome?”

“Always.Butyoudon’tneedtocookforme.”
“I’mhappy.IcookwhenI’mhappy.”
“What’reyousohappyabout?”
Samthrowsmushroomsandpotatoesonthecounter.“IgotintoCarverandIwanttocelebrate.”
“Whereisthat?”
“UniversityofIowa.Veryrespectableprogram.I’mstillhopingforsomeotherschoolstocome

through,butit’sasolidoption.”

“Congratulations.”Iliftmybottle,soshegrabsherwaterandclinksitinatoast.Hermouthturnsup

inasmile,andathrillrunsthroughme.Ilikethisrelaxed,joyfulversionofher,althoughthesnarly,
sarcasticSamhasherupsides,too.“Areyougoingtospecializeinsomething?”

“Cardiology.ButIfeelalittleguiltyaboutit.”
“Why?”
“Idon’tknow.BecauseI’llprobablyendupinprivatepractice.”
“Sowhatyou’resayingisyoufeelbadthatyou’regoingtomakeatonofmoney.”
HerfrownmeansI’montosomething.“Iwanttohelppeoplewhoneedit,notjustwhocanaffordit.”
“Well,youcanvolunteer.Butthepeoplewhowillbepayingyouneedcare,too.”

“Obviously.Butsomanypeoplehavelittleornoaccesstogoodhealthcare.”
ShemovesaboutthekitchenpreppingthesteaksandpotatoesasIsitatthesmallcounterandwatch

her.Ilikethewayshemoves—full-bodied,careless,lotsofmotion.Shedoesn’tseemlikesomeonewho
doesanythinginhalfmeasures.Andyet,asshecutsthemushrooms,Inoticehowpreciseherhandsare.I
feelthosecarefulfingersrunningthelengthofmybody,andIclearmythroat.

“Iknow.Butthatdoesn’tmeanyoushouldfeelguiltyforearninggoodmoney.You’regoingtohaveto

workdamnhardtogetit.”

Sheshrugs.“Accumulationofwealthdoesn’tseemlikeagoodthingtome.Richpeoplesuck.”
“Sayssomeonewho’snevergonewithoutanythinginherlife.”
Sherearsherheadback.“Seriously?Youdon’tknowanythingaboutmylife.”
“Sohaveyou?”
Herfacescrunches.“You’reseriouslyannoying,youknowthat?”
Mygrinisself-congratulatory.“That’sano.”
“Stilldifferentthanhavingalotmorethanyouneed.Nooneneedstobewealthy.”
Shejustdenouncedcapitalism,thebackboneofmyindustry,butIdropthesubject.That’shardtodo,

notbecauseIwanttoberight,butbecausesparringwithherisfun.ThelastthingIneed,though,istoadd
conflicttothistentativefriendshipwe’vegotgoing.AnditshocksmethatIthinkofherthatwayalready
—likesomeoneIcantalkto.

Samfocusesoncooking,herespresso-coloredhairswinginginherfaceassheworks.Sheshrugsone

shouldertomoveitoutoftheway.

“Here,”Isay,holdingoutthehairbandthat’ssittingonthecounter.
“Myhandsarecoveredinsteak.It’sokay.”
Icomearoundthecounterandmoveupbehindher.Ismoothherhairdownwithonehand,noticingthe

contrastbetweenus—roughandsoft,lightanddark.Igatherthelocksinmypalmandpullthemgently
intoaponytail.Sam’slungsexpandandthengostill,asItietheelasticbandaroundherhairthreetimes
sotheponytailwillstayinplace.

“Howdoyouknowhowtodothat?”
“MomusedtomakemebraidLizzie’shairforschool.AndIcan’tbelieveIjustadmittedthat.”
Samlaughs,andit’sabreathy,sexysoundthatshootssouthinahurry.I’mstaringatthecaramelskin

onherneck,andIwanttobiteintoitsobad.Nothard.Justenoughtomakehermelt.Ican’tdrivethe
thoughtout,andmylipsmoveclosertothegoal.

“Jeff,”shesaysinabewilderedway,whichampsupthehumcoursingthroughme.
“Umhmm.”Mylipsvibrateagainstherneck,andshedropsherspoon.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Herneckarchesslightly.ThesightofthatcurvesnapswhatevercontrolIhad.
Iputmymouthwhereitshouldbe,andwhenmylipsandtonguemeetherskin,webothgroan.Her

kneesgoweak,soIcatchheraroundherwaist.Somehow,mymouthisnowsuckingandnibblingandshe
issighingandmoaning,andIneedneedneedhermouth.Isnakeonearmuptotiltherheadbackandtothe
side,andthenI’mclaimingherlips.

And,Lordhelpme,shekisseslikenothingI’veeverknown.Thefirsttimewekisseditwassoftand

light—likeweweretryingtomakeaconnection.Butnowit’sfulllips,softtongue,norestraint.Thekiss
deepensandchanges,andmypulseisjumpinglikeacatonhotconcrete.Withoutmeaningto,myhips
thrustforward,seekingher.

Shegaspsandgoescompletelystill.Ittakesmeasecondtoregisterherresistance,andthenIback

awayfromher.

“I’msorry,”Isay,becauseIknowIshouldbe.“Thatwas...”

Herhandshootsup.“Don’tsayanything.”
Shefinishescooking,andweeatinawkwardsilence—metappingmyfootthewholetime,herstaring

downatherplate.WhenIgetuptododishes,sherushesofftoherroom.

TheoldJefffeelsguiltyforkissingSam.Thenew,moredefiantJeffdoesn’twanttoapologize.Iknow

shewantsme,butshehasherreasonsforresistingit,nottheleastofwhichisprobablymysister.

Iknockonherdoor.Sam’sexpressioniscarefullyneutralwhensheopensit.
“Whatisit?”
“IpromiseIwon’ttrythatagain.Thatdoesn’tmeanIdon’twantto.”Well,damn,Ihadn’tmeanttosay

thatsecondthing.Butifnothingelse,we’vealwaysbeenhonestwitheachother.

Shebitesherbottomliphard,likeshe’swranglingwordsshe’safraidwillgetloose.“Goodnight,

Jeff,”shesays,shuttingthedoorinmyface.

Chapter5:Sam

Saturdayisareliefandacurse.Idon’thaveworkorschooltoday,butthatmeansIhavenoexcuseto
avoidJeff.EspeciallysincehewaylaysmewhenIcomeoutofmyroominthemorning.

“I’mgoingforarun,”hesays.Thatwouldexplainthesleevelessshirtandtheathleticshorts.“Iknow

yourun,too,socomewithmeandshowmethebestroute.”

“Ihaven’tevenhadmycoffeeyet.”
“I’llmakesomewhileyougetdressed.”Hescansmeupanddownbutdoesn’tlinger.“Comeon.It

willclearourheads.”

Iblowoutabreath,effectivelygivinghimaraspberry,butIheadtomyroomtogetdressedanyway.
WhenIcomeout,he’sholdingcoffeeaspromised.“Alittlecream,alittlesugar.”
He’sbeenpayingattention.
Idon’twanttoacknowledgethat—anymorethanIwanttoadmitthathiskissburnedmeupinside.So

instead,IdrainmycupandleadhimoutthedoortowardtheGuadalupeRiverTrail.Whenwegetthere,
westretchandwarmupinsilence.

Weworkuptoagoodrun,Jeffslowingtomeetmyshorterstride.Halfwaythroughourroutewehit

thegardens,whicharegreenbutnotflowering.

“Thisispretty,”hesays.
“Waituntilthepoppiesbloom.They’regorgeous.”
Jeffwasrightabouttherunexpellingthecrapinmymind.Aswebothbegintobreathehard,Irelax

andletmyselfenjoytheweather,theexercise,andthecompany.

Ihitapatchofgravelandmyfeetalmostgooutfromunderme.Butsomeoneuptherelikesme,

becauseIdonotfallonmyass.

Jeffimmediatelystops.“Youokay?”
“I’mfine.”
“Didyouhurtyourankle?”
“Itwistedtherightoneatinybit,butit’sokay.”
Hefrowns.“Youwantmetotakealook?”
“That’ssoJaneAustenofyou,”Isnort.
Hiseyesnarrow.“WhydoyouhateitsomuchwhenI’mtryingtobenice?”
Mylaughterdiesinmythroat.“Idon’t.”
“Sowhat’swiththesarcasm?”
Itakeadrinkofwatertostall.“IguessI’mwaitingfortheothershoetodrop.”
“That’sgrim.”Hegoesfrombeingangrytolookingsad.
Idon’twanthispity,soItakeoffrunningagain,andhefollows.Itrytosweatoutmyirritation,butit’s

itchingundermyskin.Ahalfmilegoesby,thenanother.Butit’sstillthere.

Finally,westopforawaterbreak,andItrynottotakepleasureinwatchingJeffthrowhisheadback,

thegoldenhighlightsofhishaircatchingthesun,histhroatmovingupanddownashedrinks.

“I’monlysarcasticbecauseyou’recute,”Iblurtout.
Helowershisheadslowly.“What?”

Ileandownandgripmyknees.Musthaveruntoohard.
“Sam...”hesays,histonealmostacommand.
“Holdon.I’mhavingaheartattack.”
“No,you’reembarrassed.”Hisvoiceiskindernow.
“Howcanyoutell?”Iask,peeringupathim.
“You’reblushing.”
“Iamnot.I’mbrown.Ican’tturnpink.”
Hetakesasteptowardme.“Youdo.”
Istandupandholdoutmyhand.“Alright.Hereitis.ThebottomlineisthatIthoughtyouwere

annoyingwhenIfirstmetyou.Butyou’relikeyourstupidsister;it’simpossiblenottolikeyou.Andthat
wouldbefine,exceptyou’recute.Andthenyou’reallovermewiththeponytailandthehandsandthe..
.”Iwavemyarmsaround,butthatmakesmelooklikeamonkey.

“Isthereanythingwrongwiththat?”
“You’reLizzie’sbrother.”
“Iknow.”
“I’mnotlookingtogetwrappedupinsomeonerightnow,butI’mnotthatintoone-nightstands,either.

EvenifIwere,you’rethelastpersonIcandothatwith.”

“Becauseitwouldgetmessy.”
Inod.“Exactly.NotthatI’msayingyouevenwanttohaveone.Withme.”
HisvoicegoestothatsmokyplaceIhavealreadycometocrave.“WebothknowIdo.”
“That’snothelpful.”
Heshrugs.“It’sthetruth.Anditmeanssomething,becauseI’veneverhadaone-nightstand.”
“Never?”
“No.”
Musthebesohonest?LizziealwayssayshowpoliteJeffis,butforsomereason,Idon’tthinkthat

appliestome.HeprettymuchsayswhateverthehellhewantswhenI’maround.Whichgivesmegoose
bumps.Ormaybeit’stheideaofbeingJeff’sfirstanythingthat’sgettingtome.

ButwhenIlookupathim,hisconfidencehasdeflated,replacedwithaguiltyexpression.
“You’reprobablyright,”hesays.“Idon’tknowhowLizziewouldfeelaboutusbeingtogether.”He

looksdownrightgrumpynow.“I’msorryforkissingyou.”

“No.Idon’twantyoutobesorry.”Neverforthat.Becauseitwasthebestkissofmylife.
Heliftshisshirtandwipeshisbrowwithit.Thatglimpseofhisstomachmakesmytoesgonumb.
“Ididn’tsayIwassorryforwantingit,butI’msorryformakingthingsawkward.”Hedoesn’teven

blinkashesaysthis.Juststandstherelookingsweaty,gettingrighttothepointasusual.

“So,canwebefriends?”Iask,surprisedthatIreallywanthimtosayyes.“Nomoreavoidingeach

other?”

Henods.“Definitely.Butfortherecord,Iwasneveravoidingyou.”

Thenextday,Iinsertmykeycardintothefrontdoor,butIcan’tseemtopushitopen.Ihearwhispering
andshuffling,andthedoorsuddenlyswingsopentoohard.Judeisstandingjustinside,hishandsinhis
pockets,whileLizzieadjuststhestrapofhertanktop.

“Wereyoutwodoingitagainstthefrontdoor?”Iputonehandonmyhip,astancemyfathercallsthe

“FilipinaFlipOut,”becausemymomdoesitrightbeforeshelaysintohim.

“No,”Lizziesays,rightasJudesays,“Yes.”

“Oh,forfuck’ssake.”It’shardenoughnothavingsexwithoutthehormonesfromthesetwoclogging

theair.IfIdon’twatchout,I’mgoingtogetsecondhandpregnantfromJude’sundoubtedlymagicaldick.

Iheadtomyroomtogivethemsomeprivacy,andthrowmyselfdownonmybed.Iletthecoolsheets

andcozycomfortercalmme.Butevenhere—maybeespeciallyhere—Ican’tescapethememoryofJeff.
Cradlingmewithhisstrongbody,puttinghisarmsaroundme.Let’sfaceit,havinghishandsinmyhair
wasthemosteroticthingthat’shappenedtomeinyears—includingtimespentwithguysI’veactually
sleptwith.MaybebecauseIreallylikehim.

There’saknockonmydoor.
“Youshallnotpass,”Ishout.
Lizziepushesthedooropen.“Igetthatreference.StarWars,right?”
“Somewhere,anerdjustdied.”
Lizziesitsonthebed,herexpressionturningserious.“Sorryifwewereinsensitive.”
“It’sallgood.Idon’tcareaboutthedoorhumping.I’mgladhe’skeepingyousatisfied.Although,let’s

faceit,ifyoucan’tgetthebigOfromthattalldrinkofwater,yourvagisprobablybroken.”

“Eeewww,”Lizzielaughs,asshethrowsherselfdownonthebed.Hercheeksareturningpink.
“Seriously?Nowyou’reembarrassed?Youprobablyhavesplintersinyourassfromhimputtingitto

youagainstthedoor.”

“Stop,”shesays,coveringherface.“Buttolaythistorest,yes,heisfantastic.Everysingleday.”
Igroan.“Seriously?C’mon.”Ihugapillowtomychest.
“Notmyfaultyou’relivinglikeanun.Whyareyoutorturingyourself?Iknowyou’rebusy,butgetout

thereandgetbackonthehorse.”

Shewouldn’tbesayingthatifsheknewitwasJeffIwantedtoride.
“AnymoretextsfromLuke?”sheasks.
“No.Istoppedresponding.I’mgladthatwholecafédramahappened,though.BecauseIgotitoutof

theway.It’sallinthepastnow.”

“Wouldhavebeenniceifhe’dmannedupandapologizedforreal.”Shetwistsalockofhairaround

onefingerandtugsonit.

“Knowwhat’sevenbetter?Idon’tcareaboutanapologyanymore.Idon’tneedanythingfromhim.

He’satotalwimp.Ihadforgottenaboutthat.”Unlikesomemen,whosayexactlywhatthey’rethinking.

“Totally.Sogetoutthereandfindsomeonewhofloatsyourboat.”Lizzieleansuponherelbow.

“Whatbettersend-offformedschoolthanafling?”

Chapter6:Jeff

“Thanksagainforthis.”

IgrabthekeytothestudiofromEvaRomero,mynewlandlord.Hertallframefillsupthedoorwayof

herstuccohouse,whichhasagood-sizedunitinthebackthatwillbeallminesoon.Evaismysavior;ifI
havetolivewithSammuchlonger,I’mgoingtoeitherjumpoffabridgeorjumpher.

Yes,IagreedSamandIshouldn’tseeeachother.Yes,Isaidwecouldjustbefriends.I’mnotsureI

meantadamnwordofit.

“You’redoingmeafavor,”Evasays.“Yousavedmefromhavingtorelistthisplaceandinterview

people.”

IlikeEva.Thefirsttimewemet,Ipeggedherasastraightshooterandthat’sheldtrue.
Footstepsrunupbehindherandaheadpeeksoutnexttoherhip.Aboywithasmudgeonhisleft

cheekstaresatmewithoutsmiling.

“Jeff,thisisDiego,myson.”
“I’mfive,”Diegosays,blinkinglikeanowl.
Diegowasn’therewhenIfirstlookedatthestudio,andforsomereason,hispresencemakestheback

ofmynecktingle.He’sgotunnervingbrowneyesthatstarerightthroughmeandaBobtheBuilderBand-
Aidonhisknee.

“Hithere,”Isay,mythroattight.
Iknowwhyheunnervesme.Ilostasonfouryearsago,andhewouldhavebeenalmostthisagenow.

Buthenevergottobeborn.Still,it’slongbehindme,andI’mgoodatpushingthoughtsofitaway.Maybe
it’sDiego’stinybaseballcap,orthewayhischinjutsoutatme,thatmakesmychestfeelhollow.

“Jeff’smovingintothestudio,”Evaexplains.
Diegonods,deepinthought.“Yougoingtohelpusgarden?”
Evalaughs,butmyeyesarestillonDiego:thecartoonbugsonhisshirt,hissmallhands.Doesheplay

catchwithhisdadandrideonhisshoulders?Dotheygotoballgamestogether?It’slikeI’mlookinginto
anotherlife,analternateuniversethatneverplayedout.

Itrytoshakethethought.It’snotasifIhaven’tbeenaroundkidsinthelastfouryears.Butnotoften,

though,andnotusuallyupclose.

“Jeffwon’tbegardening.Wecansharewhateverwepick,though.”
“Thanks.”Ishovethekeyinmypocketandmumbleoutmygood-byes,slightlylesseagertomovein

thanIwasahalfhourago.

EverythingIowninUtahisonitswayhere.ExceptBruce,mybestfriendbackhome.

“Youoweme,like,athousandbeersforoverseeingthismove,”hesayswhenIcallhimtothankhim.
“Likehell.Ialmostbrokemybackcarryingyourcouchlasttimeyoumoved.”
“Notmyfaultyou’realightweight.”Bruceusedtoplayfootballincollegeandhewearsabouttwo

hundredandthirtypoundsofmuscle.

“Betterthanbeingagorilla.”IadjustmyphoneagainstmyearasIletmyselfintothesuite.Justone

moredayhere.Whichmeanstwenty-fourmorehourswithSam.

Ihavetheplacetomyself,soIsprawlonthecouch.
“Sohowarethings?Ihaven’theardmuchfromyou,”Brucesays.
“Workiskickingmyass.Youshouldseehowcompetitivetheyallare.”
“Well,thenkicktheirassesrightback.”Bruce’svoiceisasbigashisbody—lowandbooming.And

whenhegetsdrunk,thereisn’tapersoninatwo-mileradiusthatdoesn’thearwhathehastosay.

“Planto.Howarethingswithyou?”
“Sameold,sameold.Howarethewomen?Asgoodasallthesongssay?”
Samwalksinthefrontdoor,anddropsherbagonthefloor.Whatdoesshecarryinthatthing?Asmall

countrycouldfitinside.

“Damnstraight.”
SamseesI’monthephone,sosheignoresme.ThismeansIcanobserveherwithouthernoticing.She

walksintothekitchenandgrabsanapple,andIsavorwatchingthebig,awkwardbitesshetakes,whichis
weird.

“Anyoneinparticular?”Bruceasks,andIknowhe’swearingthatshit-eatinggrinheusuallydoes.
“Maybe.I’dliketheretobe.”
“Already?Ithoughtyouweresteeringclear.”
Samcatchesmyeye,soIsmileather.OureyesstaylockedassheeatsandItalk.
“Sometimesit’sworthmakinganexception.”
Bruce’schuckleisall-knowing.“Alright,man.Goodluck.”
Iwrapupmycall,nevertakingmyeyesoffofSam.Ihaven’tbeenabletostopfixatingonhersince

wedecidedtobejustfriends,andI’mstartingtofeelalittledesperate.Sam’sagoodfriendforputting
Lizzie’sfeelingsfirst,I’llgiveherthat.AndItrytobeagoodbrother.Butthisisalsomylife,andI
movedhereforindependence.Rightnow,mytiestoLizziearechafing.

I’malsonotconvincedthatSamisn’tjustrunningscared.Afterall,Iseehowshestaresatme.She’s

doingitrightnow.Lookingatmelikeshe’sgotallday.Hipcocked,bodyrelaxed.Eyelashescurling
downassheblinks.

BeforeIknowit,I’mmovingcloser.WhenIgettoher,Ileandownandtakeabiteoftheappleshe’s

holdingathermouth.Shedoesn’tlaugh.Good,becauseI’mnotfeelingplayful.

“Youhaveplanstonight?”Iask,voicelow,excitementhigh.
Sheshrugs.“LizzieaskedifwewanttocomeovertoJude’shousefordinner.”
“Sayno.”
“Why?”
“It’smylastnighthere.Let’sspendittogether.”
Sheleansbackagainstthecounter.I’mhopingit’sbecausesheneedsthesupport.“Notagoodidea.”
“Notaterribleidea.”SincewhenhaveIeverpressedanissuewithawoman?SinceSam,Iguess.
Sheraisesaneyebrow,whichmakesherlookdevious.“Whatwillwedo?”
“Food,movie,popcorn.Hangout.”
“Asfriends.”
Iputmyhandsup,likeaninnocentmanbeingwronglyaccused.“Ofcourse.Whatdoyoutakeme

for?”

“Umhmm.”Shepausestoconsider,soIeaseup.Finally,herlipsarchupinasmile.“I’llstartdinner,

youfigureoutthemovie.”

WeeatinfrontoftheTV,sprawledoutonoppositeendsofthecouch.Herlegsareshorterthanmine,

butsomehowshetakesupmostofthespace.

“Comfortable?”Iask,assheshovesmeoveragain.
“Perfectly.”
She’ssosmug.
WewatchoneofSam’sfavorites—anoldBarbraStreisandcomedythatI’veneverseen.It’sdopey

andwacky,butIdon’tcarebecausemyrightlegisrubbingagainsthers.Myfingersareinchesfromher
arm.AndIgettowatchherlaughunconsciously—withouttension.Shehasbeennervouswithmefromthe
start,andIwanttochangethat.Whenshe’sunguarded,Sam’senergyissostrongIcouldgrabitwithboth
hands.It’storture.It’sintoxicating.

“Youdonewithdinner?”sheasks,catchingmestaring.
ItseemsI’vegonestupid,butIfinallymanageanod,andshepausesthemovietocleartheplates.I

getuptohelp,andweworksidebysideinthekitchendoingdishes.

“Didyouhelpoutalotathome?”Iaskaswedryourhandsandheadbacktothecouch.
“Yesandno.Iwasalittlespoiled,ifyoucouldn’ttell.”
I’msurprisedbyherassessmentofherself.“Howso?Youworkdamnhard.It’soneofthethingsI

admireaboutyou.”

Shesmiles.“Thanks.Youdon’tstrikemeasaslackereither.”
“Wasn’tallowedinourhouse.”
“Yeah,butIgotmywayalot.MomandDaddidn’tknowanybetter.Itwasmorelikeademocracy

thanadictatorship.”Herfondnessforherparentsisinhervoice.“Irememberforprom,theyfeltlikethey
shouldgivemeacurfew,buttheydidn’tknowwhattimetomakeit.SoIdecided.”

“Theygotluckyyouweresoresponsible.MybrotherDavidwouldhaveraisedhellifhe’dbeen

broughtupthatway.Mydadhadtohaveafirmhandwithhim.”

Shenudgesmylegwithherfoot.“Andwhataboutyou?Didyouneedthemtobesostrictwithyou?”
Ishrug.Forsomereason,IthinkaboutthetimeIlostmybrotherMichaelinastore.Momtoldmeto

keepaneyeonhim.ButtheminuteIlookedaway,hetookofflikeabatoutofhelltowardthecandyaisle,
andIlosttrackofhim.Oneminutehewasthere,thenexthewasgone.

Iwalkedaroundthestore,frantic—myhandsshakingwithadrenaline.Ifsomethinghappenedtohim,

howwouldIlivewithmyself?HowcouldIevergobackhome?Itwasthelongesttwentyminutesofmy
eleven-year-oldlife.MomandIfinallyfoundhimhidingunderarackofjackets,laughingatthetrickhe
hadplayed.IrememberthereliefhittingmesohardthatIalmostpassedout.

Thatnight,DadtoldmeIneededtodobetter—thatIwasgoingtobeamansoon,andtheyneededto

beabletocountonme.Ididn’targue;anythingIsaidwouldhavebeenviewedasanexcuse.Itwasclear
thatwhatIfelt—thefear,theguilt—countedfornothing.AndIwouldhavetodealwiththemonmyown.

“Theycouldhaveeasedupalittle,”Isay.
Maybeshecantellmythoughtsaregloomy.Maybeshe’sboredbythemovie.Butforwhatever

reason,SammutestheTVandlooksatme,anaughtygleaminhereye.

“Wannaplaytruthordare?”
“Whatarewe,twelve?”
“Scared?”shetaunts.
Icrossmyarms.“Fine.Youfirst.Truthordare?”
Shedoesn’thesitateevenananosecond.“Dare.”
“Ofcourse.”
AndhowannoyingthatIcan’tthinkofanythingallthatdaring.Ipluckthefirstideathatfloatsacross

mytinybrain.

“Flashyourbra.”It’sofficial:Ihaveturnedintoapervert.“I’mkidding...”

Butit’stoolate.HerT-shirtisupandmymindisfloodedwithwhitelace,brownskin,andawhole

lotofhormones.Andthenit’sgoneandI’mleftwithanunpleasantache.

OntheTVscreen,BarbraStreisandishangingofftheledgeofahotelinatowel,whileRyanO’Neal

istryingtoputoutasmallfireinhisroom.Icanrelate,buddy.

“Rookiemistake,”Samsays.“Thedareissupposedtobemorepainfulformethanyou.”
“Iseethatnow.”
Shelaughsuntilshehastoholdherstomach.“Yourface.”Shedabsathereye,whichhasatearinit.

“Okay,yourturn.Truthordare?”

“Truth.”
“Scaleofonetoten,howgoodareyouinbed?”
I’meithergoingtoleapoverthiscouchandkissthisgirl,orI’mgoingtothrottleher.“Whydoyou

wanttoknow?Ithoughtwewerejustfriends?”

“Youaskallyourfriendstoshowyoutheirtits?”
Myfaceisgettingwarm,andthatpissesmeoff.“Solideight.”
Hereyeswiden.“Explain.”
“Nope.Onequestionperturn.Truthordare?”
“Truth.”Hervoiceislower,throatier.
Myturntogetalegupinthisbattle.“Howlonghasitbeensinceyou’vehadgreatsex?Thekind

whereyousweatandbegandcry?”

Shepullsherkneesuptoherchest.“Morethantwoyears.”
Sonotsincetheassholethatbrokeherheart,I’mguessing.
“Thatwouldexplainwhytherehaven’tbeenanyguyscomingaroundsinceI’vebeenlivinghere.”
“Ikeepthemallstashedawayinaposhapartment,”sheshootsback,hervoicedefensive.“Likea

harem.”

Thefunevaporatesfromourgameandthat’sdisappointing.ButIlearnedsomethingaboutSam.The

nightwemet,sheimpliedthattheguywhocheatedonherwasherfirstlove.Whichmeansthateven
thoughshe’sbeenwithotherguyssincethen,shehasn’tfallenforanyofthem.SheandIarealotmore
alikethanIthought:Wehangontoouremotionswithadeathgrip.

“Nowyou,”shesays.“Truthordare?”
“Truth.”
“Neverdare?”
“Notwithyou.”One,becausewhoknowswhatshe’llhavemedo,andtwo,becauseIalreadyknow

I’ddoit.Shehasthatwayabouther.

“Youkeepsayingyouwantpassion.Sowhyhaven’tyouletyourselffallforsomeone?Anddon’ttell

meit’sbecauseofallthesegirlspressuringyouforacommitment.Youchoosetobeinboring
relationships.”

Mystomachrevslikeanengine.“You’reright.Ido.”
“Why?”Shereachestowardmewithonehand,likeshewantstotouchme.Isharethatimpulse;in

fact,itneverleavesmewhenshe’snear.Likeapieceoftwinethatgoesslackandtautbetweenus,but
neverbreaks.

“Idon’tknow.”
“Yeah,youdo.Youjusthaven’tthoughtaboutitlongenough.”
Sam’sright.Ilovemyfamily.Myfriends.Icriedwhenmyfirstdogdied.I’mnotarobot.SowhydoI

datethesewomen?

“I’vealwaysknownwhoIam.MaybeI’mjustscaredtoletgo—tolosemyself.”

Thatmuststrikeachordwithherbecausehereyebrowsraise.“Ijustsaidthesamethingtoyour

sister.”

Inod.Nowonderitwashardforhertorecoverfrombeingcheatedon.Sam’sgotahealthydoseof

self-worth.Musthavebeenhardforhertohavethatfoundationshaken.

“Sheclaimsthatitdoesn’thavetobethatway,”Samsays.“Thatyoucanfindabalance.Make

yourselfmore,notless.”

That’ssolikeLizzie—alittlenaïve,alotoptimistic.
“Youbelieveher?”
Shestaresmedown.“Doyou?”
Weareatastalemate.
Stillplayingsilentlyonthescreen,Barbrahassavedherselffromtheledge,butRyan’shotelroomhas

goneupinflames.

Chapter7:Sam

IstareatthesmallmoundofboxessittinginthedrivewayofJeff’snewplace.I’mquakinginmyChucks
aboutbeinghereafterourlittlegameoftruthordare.Notetoself:Stoppokingatbeehiveswithsticks.

Guiltisverymotivating,though,andLizzieuseditrepeatedlytoropemeintohelping.Ihavenoidea

whohasalreadyarrived,butIfigureIbettergetinsideandfacethemusic.Afterall,JeffandIagreedto
befriends.Andfriendshelpfriendsmove.Unlesstheycanpossiblygetoutofit.

Igrababoxandlugittohisfrontdoor,whichiswideopen.He’sstandinginsideinaformfittingT-

shirtandbasketballshorts,arrangingbooksonashelf.Hismussedhairandrumpledclothesmakehim
evenhotter—alittlelessKendoll-ish.

“Whatinthesweethelldoyouhaveinthese?”IadjusttheboxinmyarmsasIstepoverthethreshold.
“Whoknows?Allthisstuffblendstogetheratthispoint,”hesays.“Thanksforcomingtomyrescue.”

Hetakestheboxfrommeasthoughitweighsnothing.

“Gladtohelp.Obviously.”
Hegrins.“Uh-huh.Ibet.Andbytheway,Lizzieleftahalfhourago.”
“Seriously?”Someoneelsebetterbehere,orI’mgoingtokillthatgirl.BecausebeingalonewithJeff

makesitalmostimpossibletokeepthingsplatonic.AndImeantwhatIsaid;Idon’twantanyonegetting
hurtforonenightofsex—nomatterhowgreatMister“I’maneightoutoften”wouldbe.

Jeffislikeabagfulloftrick-or-treatcandy.Somepiecesaretastierthanothers,butthey’reallsweet.

Hetoldmetoflashmyboobsbutthenblushed,claimedthathewasgoodinthesackbutthenwouldn’t
bragaboutwhy.Andthen,whenthesexualtensionwassohighIcouldhavechokedonit,hedidanabout-
faceandbaredhissoul.

“SheandJudecameoverearly,butthenshehadtogettowork.”Jeffheadsoutsideandcomesback

carryingtwolargeboxes,hismusclesflexingandstraining.

“Traitors.”Ishiftfromsidetoside,unsurewhattodowithmyself.“Youwantmetoleaveyoualone?

Idon’twanttobeinyourbusiness.”

Hesetsoneoftheboxesdownnearhisentertainmentcenter.“Stayandkeepmecompany.Icoulduse

somehelporganizingandeatingthepizzaIordered.”

AheadcoveredindarkmoppyhairappearsinJeff’sopendoor,andthenaboycomestumblinginto

theroom.He’ssmall—maybenoteveninschoolyet—andhe’swearingthecutestlittlejeanswitha
dinosaur-printshirt.

“Hi,Jeff.”Hegrabsataboxontheground,likehe’sgoingtodiveinandopenit.
“Diego,whyareyouinhere?”
I’msurprisedbyJeff’sstricttone,evenmoresowhenIturnandseehisfrown.Imaynotbegreatwith

kids,butIwouldhavethoughtJeffwouldhavemoreexperience.

IleandowntowardDiego.“Hey,buddy.Whoareyou?”
“He’smylandlady’sson.”
“Ilivehere.”Diegopushesalockofhairoutofhisbigbrowneyes.
“Youliveoverthere,”Jeffsays,pointing.“Andyoushouldn’tcomeintosomeone’splacewithout

knocking.”

“No,heshouldn’t,”avoicesays,startlingme.Atallwomanwhocouldtakemeone-handedinafight

standsinthedoorway.ThisisclearlyDiego’smother.Herfeaturesaren’tlikeherson’s,butthetwoof
themarewearingidenticalstubbornexpressions.

“I’mEva,Jeff’slandlady,”shesaystome.
“Hi.I’mSam,Jeff’sfreelabor.”
Evasmiles,hercheekbonesprominentenoughtocutglass.I’dkillforthose.
“ItwouldbebestifyoukeptDiegooveratyourplace.”
Can’tsayI’mlovingthisfrostyversionofJeff.He’ssounlikehisusualeasygoingselfthatIdoa

doubletake.

EvaraisesbothdarkeyebrowsatJeff.“Iintendto.Heknowshe’snotsupposedtocomeoverhere

withoutpermission.Right,Diego?”

“Sorry,Jeff.Iwantedtoseeyourstuff.”Diego’sfaceturnsdownindefeat.
“Maybesomeothertime.”
“Theyseemnice,”IsayonceEvaandDiegoclearout.“Youdon’tlikekids?”
Jeffrunsahandoverhisforehead.“No,Ido.Ishouldn’thave...It’snothim.”
“Whatisitthen?”
“Justgottakenbysurprise.I’llapologizetoEvalater.”Heseemstoshakeoffwhateverisbothering

him.“Willyoustillstay?”

There’sastoryhere,butnotonehewantstotalkabout,soIletitdrop.Fornow.
Againstmybetterjudgment,butnottomysurprise,Idecidetostay.IlikebeingaroundJeff.The

sexualchemistrybetweenusisstillthumping,butI’llhavetoignoreit.

Itakealookaroundhisnewplace,admiringthenaturallight.It’ssmall—adecent-sizedlivingroom

withakitchenandbathroomrunningalongtheback.Butthereisaloftbedroomthatseemsfun,despitethe
almost-verticalladderyouhavetoclimbtogettoit.

ThesideoftheboxJeffisholdingsays“bedroom”onit,sohedropsitatthebottomoftheladder.

“Wanttogoupthere?”

“I’mgood.”
Hesmileslikethecatthatatethecanary,anditlooksgoodonhim.“C’mon.Youknowyouwantto.”
Damnhim,Ireallydo.“Fine,butI’mnotcarryinganything.”
Istarttoclimb,andIcanfeelJeffhotonmyheels.Whichmeanshiseyeballsarefixedrightonmy

sizeableass.Ah,well.NotlikeIcanhideit.

Asexpected,theloftiscozy.Jeff’sbedissittingprominentlyinthemiddleofthespace,andis

coveredbyaplainbluecomforter—notashockerfromaguywhowearspoloshirts.Thebedisthesole
iteminheresofar,anditdoesn’tleavemuchroomforanythingelse.

“Whatdoyouthink?”Jeff’ssoclosetome,Icanalmostfeelhisbreathinmyear.Itslithersdownmy

neckanddivesstraightintomypants.Hisbedfeelstoohandy,suddenly.

“WhatIthinkisthatclimbingthatladderisapain.Whatifyouneedtogotothebathroominthe

middleofthenight?”

“Ilikeit.MakesmefeellikeI’minafortoratreehouse.”
Sweetmother,I’mpicturingusasTarzanandJanenowandamoddlyturnedon.
“Makessense,BoyScout.”I’mnotproudofthefactthatI’mfallingbackonsarcasmtocutthe

tension.Ispinaroundandheadbackdowntheladder,whichisharderthangettingup.Jeffscalesitwith
ease,hisstronglegsondisplayinhisshorts.

Heflopsdownonthebrownsuedesofa.
“Don’tyouwanttobringintherestofthoseboxes?”Iask.

“There’reonlyafewleft.Let’stakeabreakandeat.I’vebeenatitallmorning.”
Isitontheoppositeendofthecouchanddrummyfingersonthepaddedarmrest.Makessenseit’s

comfortableandcushy—notthesleek,starkfurnitureyouseeinatypicalBayAreabachelorpad.I
wonderhowJeffisfittinginwiththefinancebroshe’sminglingwith,withtheirexpensivesuitsand$800
dinners.

IcatchJeffstaringatmeoutofthecornerofmyeye.
“You’reawfulfaraway.I’mnotgoingtobite.”
Iturntofacehim.“YouthinkI’mafraidofyou?”
Jefffiddleswiththeedgeofthecushionbetweenus.“Alittle.Which,Igottasay,Ilove.Notsure

anyone’severbeenintimidatedbyme.”

“I’mnotintimidated.Justtryingtokeepasafedistancebetweenus.”
“Thenhowcomeyoukeepcheckingoutmylegs?”
Icrossmyarmsovermychest.ThisdrawsJeff’sgazetomybreasts,soIuncrossthem.“Ican’thelp

it,I’malegwoman.”

Jeffscootsclosertome.“EventhoughI’mmovingout,we’restillgoingtobearoundeachotherafair

amount.Maybeweoughttofigurethisout.BecauseIdon’tthinkthisfriendshipthingisworking.”

Ileanmyheadback.“Nothinglefttofigureout.Wealreadydecideditwasforthebest.”
“Hmm.Youdecidedthat,actually.”
“Look,you’rereallynice,but...”
Jeffwinces.“Damn,notthatword.”
“Youmean‘nice’?Why,you’dratherbeajerk?”
“Anythinghasgottobebetterthan‘nice.’Suchaloadedword.”
“Notbeingad-bagisagoodthing.Highlyunderrated.Especiallyinthisvalley.”
Heleansintograbalockofmyhairandsmoothsitbetweenhisfingers.“Thenhowcomeyouwon’t

gooutwithme?”

“Becauseyoursisterwouldlosehershit.”
Jeffletsgoofmyhairandputshishandonhisforehead,hisfrustrationobvious.“Wellmaybethis

isn’tabouther.”

“Evenifthatweretrue,I’mleavingattheendofthisyear.Idon’twantaguyslowingmedown.”No

matterhowhothelookswhilehe’scarryingstuff.

“Pleasetellmeyou’renotstillhungupontheex?”
“No.Ijustdon’twantanyoftheBSthatcomeswitharelationship.”
“Suchas?”Thepizzaguyringsthebell,soJeffgetsuptopay.
IrummagearoundinthesparsekitchenuntilIfindtwoplates.“Suchashavingtocompromiseon

everything.”

Jeffplacesasliceofpepperonionmyplate,andwesitbackdown.“True.And?”
“Andusingallmyenergyonanotherperson.”Itakeabite.
“Yep.”
“Andhavingtodealwithhisannoyinghabits,”Isay,throughamouthfullofsauceandcheese.
Jeffleansoverandwipesmychinwithapapertowel.“Umhmm.Iagreecompletely.”
“You?You’relikeachainsmoker,butwithrelationships—sparkinguponerightaftertheother.”
Jeffcrosseshisarms,thepictureofdefiance.“Nope.Tryingtoquit.Andsofar,sogood.”
IlookintoJeff’seyes,whichisamistake.They’remoltenchocolate—warmandcomforting.“So

what’stheplan?GonnascrewyourwaythroughSiliconValley?”

“Tostart.ThenI’llworkmywaydownCalifornia.”Hesmilesatme,andmystomachdoesthatfunny

flipagain.Stupid-assstomach.

“Well,goodluckwiththat.”Isetmyplatedown,readytobolt.ButJeffleansinandputsahandonmy

knee.

“Youcouldhelpout,youknow,”hesays,hisvoicelowandteasing,hisfingerslongandwarm.

“Thinkofitasascienceexperiment.”Hepushesmyhairbackbehindmyear,histhumblingeringonmy
earlobe.“Allofthefun,noneofthecommitment.Justyouandme.”

“Didn’tIsayIwasn’tinterestedinguysrightnow?”
“No.Whatyousaidwasyoudon’twantanythingserious.I’monboardwiththat.Butitdoesn’thave

tobeaone-nightthing,either.”

Jeff’shandisrestingonmyjaw.He’snotplayinganymore.Myheartspeedsup.
IfheonlyknewhowmuchImisssex.I’mprettysuremyvirginitygrewbackwhenIwasn’tlooking.

ButIwantsexwithaffection.Withcuddlingandtrustandkindness.ExceptnotsomuchthatI’llgocrazy.
Again.

“It’snotagoodidea.Idon’thaveanytime.”
“Evenbetter,becauseyoucangivemeasmuchoraslittletimeasyouhave.Noexpectations.”He

leansincloser.

Hiswordsdon’tcomeoutsmooth;they’rerustyandreluctant.Notaplayer,thisman.AndIdomean

man,whichstartlesme.AlltheguysI’vedatedhavebeenboys.Jefffeelslikeagrown-up,whoishonest
aboutwhathewantsanddoeswhatheneedstodo.Whichmeansheprobablyisasgoodasheclaimsto
be,becauseheknowshowtohavegrown-upsex.ThelastcoupleofguysIsleptwiththought“foreplay”
wasagolfterm.

Jeffrunshisthumbalongmybottomlip.“You’rebeautiful,andIwantyou.”
ItrytotellhimthatI’mnotallthatbeautiful,thatIdon’twanthimback,thatIdon’tneedhishandson

me,butnoneofthosethingsfeeltruerightnow.

Hetrailsonefingerupmythighandmyskinpebbles.“Ithinkyouwantme,too.”
Thenhislipstouchmine,andallmythoughtsfloatawaylikemothsintothenight.Hesmellsspicyand

clean—likefall—soIinhalehimthroughmynose,mymouth.Hegroansandsomewhereadishclatters.
Hesnakesonestronghandthroughmyhair,theslighttugonmyscalpsoachinglyfamiliar.

IcouldhaveeverythingIwantwithJeff.Andhe’dgetthepassionhe’slookingfor.ExceptI’mstill

worriedaboutthefallinghead-over-asspart.“Itwouldgetcomplicated,”Iwhisperagainsthismouth.

“Wewon’tletit.We’rebothgoodatkeepingemotionaldistancewhenwewantto.Howlonguntilyou

graduate?”

“Ninety-sixdays.NotthatI’mcountingdown.”
“Sountilgraduation,andthenwecallitquits.Andyougotomedschool,noregrets.”
Ikisshimagain,takingtheleadthistime,andhemakesasoundinthebackofhisthroatthatsets

everythingtoquivering.

“Wealreadyknowitwouldbegoodbetweenus.”Toprovehispointherunsonehandallthewayup

mythigh,undertheseamofmyshorts.Hegentlyrubshisfingersbackandforth,backandforth,alongthe
edgeofmypanties.

MyheadfallsbackonmyshouldersandIswearIseenirvana.“WhataboutLizzie?”
“She’llunderstand.Besides,thisisbetweenus.”
“Shetoldmeshewantsmetogooutwithsomeone.”
“Thenwhynotletitbeme?”
Imustermydignityandcallonthestrengthofmyinnersmartass.“Maybeyou’realltalk,andyou’re

onlyaoneoutoften.”

“Themouthonyou,”hesays,smiling.Andthenhetakesoneofmyhandsandmovesituphisthigh—

slowly—untilmyhandisrestingonhisrock-hardgoodness.“Onlyonewaytofindout.”

“That’spervy,”Isay,butmyhandisalreadyrunningalongthelengthofhim,andI’vealreadydecided

thisismynewfavoritetoyinalltheworld.

Jeff’sbreathisspeedingup.“Sayyes,Sam.”Hiseyesareglazedover.
Iforcemyselftopullaway.“Ineedtothinkaboutit.”
Jefftakesadeepbreathandletsitoutslowly.“WellI’msureashellnotgoingtopressureyou.”
Ilaugh.“Saystheguywhojustputmyhandonhisdick.”
“Iwastryingtomakeapoint.”
“Ithoughtyouwereuptight?”
“I’veneverbeenthisinspiredbefore.”He’sstilltouchingmyarm,likehecan’tbreakthecontact.
Ican’teither,soIkisshimagain.
“SweetJesus,”hesayswhenIpullaway.
Thataboutsumsitup.ThewayJeffmakesmefeelisoverwhelming.I’mnotonetoholdbackorbe

indecisive,butIneedtobesmartaboutthis.Usemybraininsteadofmyhormones.SoIleave,tryingto
shakeawaythesexualfog.WhenIgettothedoor,I’mcompelledtoturnaroundandlookathim.That’sa
mistake,becausehe’sstaringatmelikeanaughtyboywhostoleacookie.

DamnBoyScouts:They’llgetyoueverytime.

Chapter8:Jeff

Andreastepsuptomydeskwithacoffeeandachocolatedonut.“Iknowyougothereearly,soIthought
youcouldusethese.”

“Thanks.Thatwasthoughtful.”
Shehesitates,butthere’sweightbehindit,likeshewantstostrikeupaconversation.Ineedtosay

somethingtoshutherdown.Idon’twanttoencourageherflirtation—Ihavenodoubtthat’swhatitisat
thispoint—becauseallmyfocusisonSam.ExceptIhaven’theardfromhersincethedayIhadmyhand
uphershorts,soIdon’tsayanythingtoAndrea.

FourlongdaysofsilenceafterputtingitallonthelinewithSam.Maybealittletooontheline;

encouraginghertogropemewasn’ttheclassiestmove.ButwhatIlovemostaboutbeingaroundSamis
thatIbecomespontaneous.Iforgetabouttryingtobetheperfectperson,theperfectguy.

“Youcomingtohappyhour?”Andreaasks.
“Iwasn’tplanningonit.Ihavealotofresearchtodotonight.”
“Mostofthestaffwillbethere.Thepartnerslikeusmingling.”Shegivesmeacoysmile,likewe’re

playingasecretgame.

“Goodtoknow.I’llmaketimetostopby.”Irubmyeyes,whichareburningfromcomputerfatigue.
“You’vebeenworkingtoolong,”Andreasays.“Youshouldtakeabreak.”Inoticeherlipsarepink

anddewy,likesherecentlyappliedlipstick.

“Iwill.”
“Youwantmetobringyousomewater?”
“No,Ireallyshouldgetbacktowork.EspeciallyifI’mgoingtohappyhour.”
Shefrowns.“Okay.Well,I’llseeyouthere.”
“Thanksagainforthedonut.”
“Anytime.”Sheturnsandleaves,hersablehairswingingbehindher.
Andreagoesoutofherwaytobenicetome,andI’mstartingtofeellikeanassforrebuffingher.I’m

notcommittedtoanyone,andthere’sabsolutelynothingwrongwithher.Couldn’thurttohaveacupof
coffeewithhersometime.

Istandupandshakeoutmyarms.Hellno.Thisisalwayshowitstarts.Iworryaboutawoman’s

feelings,convincemyselfIcouldmakeitwork,andbeforeIknowit,I’mtwoyearsintoarelationshipI
neverreallywanted.Andintheend,Ienduphurtingthembadly.

Butnotanymore.SamornoSam,I’mstartingover.

Lizzieisstaringatherpadthaiwithglee.We’resurroundedbystatuesofThaidancersinpink,orange,
andreddresses.Thewallsoftherestaurantarecoveredinornateartwork,probablyfilledwith
symbolismandmeaningsIdon’tunderstand.

“Gladwefinallygottohavedinner,”Isay.
“Metoo.”
“Iappreciateyoutearingyourselfawayfromloverboy.”Ireachoverandtakeaforkfulofher

noodles.

“Soundslikeyou’reenvious.”
MaybeIam—notbecauseshe’sinarelationship,butbecauseit’stherealdeal.
“Tellmehowyoulikeitheresofar,”Lizziesays.
“It’salottotakein.Kindofoverwhelming.IwishIwasn’tworkingsomuchsoIcouldexploreit

more.”

Myparentsraisedme,Lizzie,andourthreebrothersahalfhourfromSaltLakeCity.Butitmightas

wellhavebeenlight-yearsaway,becausewealmostneverventuredout.Itwasafantasticchildhoodin
someways—huntingwithmydad,playinginthemountainswithmysiblings.Butitleftusfairlysheltered,
andwhenIgottocollege,Iwasoutofstep.LivinginSaltLakeCityaftercollegewasimportantforme,
andgettingoutofUtahaltogetherisanevenbiggerstretch.Itfeelsgood.

“Yep.You’llgetusedtoit.Andyouhavetoadmit,thisisalongwayfrommom’stunacasserole.”

Lizzieslurpsanothernoodle.

“True.Andit’sdamngood,”Isay,savoringaspoonfulofcoconutsoup.Itsmellslikelemongrass,but

hasasweetandsourtang.“Ihaven’ttriedoutmanyrestaurantsyet.”ButIwouldifSamwantedto.

“Youmakinganyfriendsatwork?”
“Ihaveacouplebuddiesalready.There’soneguywhowantsmetoplaygolfwithhim.What’swith

allthegolfinghere,bytheway?”

Lizziechewsasshethinks.“Don’tknow.Seemsboring.Whydon’tyoujoinafootballleagueor

something?”

“Sure,ifIgettime.”
“Anynicegirlsatwork?”
Isetmyforkdown.“Quit.”
“What?”Lizzie’seyesgoabsurdlywide.
“Youknowwhat.”
“Fine.Bethatway,”shesays,pouting.“I’monlymakingconversation.”
“No,you’reactinglikeMom.”Myphonebuzzesonthetable,soIglanceatit.It’satextfromSam.
Whatwouldthetermsofouragreementbeexactly?

MyheartpumpsintooverdriveasIshovemyphoneinmypocket.
“Youneedtotakethat?”Lizzieasks.
“No,I’llhandleitafter.”
ItrytofocusonLizzie’sstoriesaboutschoolandworkfortherestofdinner,butmostofmybrainis

whirlingwithpossibilities,andI’mnotprocessingmuchofwhatshe’ssaying.

IkissLizzieonthecheekaswepart,andthenImaketheten-minutedrivehomeinsix.

Iclimbupintotheloftandspreadoutonmybed,feetdanglingovertheend.Idon’tbotherwithtexting.
WhereI’mfrom,yougetonthephoneforaconversationlikethis.

Samanswersonthesecondring.“Hithere.”
“Wannacomeoversowecandiscussterms?”
Ihearrustling,andthenSamfinallyresponds.“Idon’tthinkthat’sagoodidea.Youmightmaulme

again.”

“Okay,that’smyfirstrequirement,rightthere.Youdon’tgettokeeppretendingthisisallme.”
Sampauses.“Agreed.”
“Wait,arewereallymakingacontract?Yousureyou’renotpre-law?”

“I’llfeelbetterifwemakealist.”
Ikickoffmyshoes.“Alright.Butfirst,tellmewhereyouaresoIcanpictureyou.”
“Inmyroom.Doorshut.”
“Onyourbed?”Itrytoimagineheronherbedspread,longhairfannedoutunderneathher.
“Yes.Butstayfocused.”Shepauses.“Whereareyou?”
“Intheloft,inmybed.”
“Oh.”
Onlyoneword,butit’sbreathyandtotallyhot.IbettergetbacktobusinessbeforeIloseallfocus.
“Sam,tellmewhatitisyouwant,andI’lltellyouwhatIwant.”
“Idon’tknowwheretobegin.Iwanttohavefun.Andtohavesex.Lotsofit.”
Damn,Iwishwewerehavingallthatsexrightnow.
“Agreed.Obviously.”
“Nodemands.Noexpectations.Weseeeachotherwhenwewantandwhenwehavetime.”
Idon’twantSamtobesomedirtysecret.Eventhoughthatmightbethrillingforaminute,Iwanttoget

thefull-blownversionofher.Iwantsomethingbigandpassionateandexciting,andthisistheperfectway
tohavethatwithoutfallingintoanotherlong-termrelationship.Butonlyifwecanbeourselves
completely.

“Okay,butIwanttodomorethanhavesex,”Isay.“Iwanttogoout.Dothingstogether.”
“That’sfine.Butnoguiltiftheotherpersonsaysno.”
“Sothiswon’tbesomebigsecret?”
“No,”shesays.“EspeciallywithLizzie.Idon’twanttolietoherorhurther.”
Igetapanginmystomachthinkingofwhatmysisterwillhavetosayaboutthis.ButI’mtiredofnot

goingafterwhatIwantbecauseofwhatpeoplewillthinkofme.

“Meneither.Butcanwewaitafewdaysbeforewetellher?”
“Why?”
“Whatifyouchangeyourmind?”
“Unlikely.”
“Iwantsomethingthat’smine.Forme.Notforeveryoneelse.”
Shepauses.“Igetit.Butjustforafewdays.Andwecan’tdragLizzieintothemiddle.Notalking

abouteachothertoher.”

LikeIwouldeverdothat.
“Done.Andeitherofuscancallthiswholethingoffatanytime.”
“Yes.Butthemostimportantthingis,neitherofuscanaskforanextension,”shesays.
“Okay.”
Can’tbemuchofanextensionanyway,sinceshe’llbeleavingsoonaftergraduation.
“Andabsolutelynofallinginlove.Nomatterwhat.”
Ihaven’tfalleninlovewithwomenI’vespentyearswith,soIdoubtthere’sanydangerofthat

happeninginthenextfewmonths.SamandImighthavecrazychemistry,butweareoppositesinmany
ways.Andtheonethingwedohaveincommonisthatwedon’twanttogetintoodeeprightnow.

“Right,nofallinginlove.”
“Arewereallydoingthis?”sheasks,hervoicesoftening.
“Iwantto.Doyou?”
Shedoesn’tanswerme,andIwonderwhat’sgoingthroughthatcomplicated,sassymindofhers.
“Yes.”
Ismile,surprisedbymysenseofrelief.“Thenwhendowestart?”

Chapter9:Sam

90daysleft

Dr.Leesmoothsoutthepatient’selectrocardiogramandcallsmeovertotakealook.Thewavepatterns
arenormal,soitlookslikethispatient,Mrs.Chaudry,isintheclear.

“Haveyouheardfromanyotherschools?”Dr.Leeasks.
I’msothankfulIgottoshadowherlastyear.WhenIfinishedworkingwithanotherdoctoracoupleof

monthsago,Dr.Leeaskedmetocomebackagainandtalkedtomeaboutspecializingincardiology.It’s
goingtobealongandgruelingroad,butI’mplanningtotakeheruponthatadvice.

“Justoneacceptancesofar.StillwaitingtohearfromUCLA.”
“Thefactyougotaninterviewisexceptional,”Dr.Leesays,herpin-straighthairtiedupandoutof

herway.

“Thankyou,Doctor.Andthanksagainfortherecommendation.”
“You’vemorethanearnedit.Plus,I’dlovetoseemorewomenincardiology.”Sheglancesagainat

thetestresults.“Whydon’tyoucomewithmetodeliverthegoodnewstothepatient?”

Mrs.Chaudryisasixty-year-oldwidowwhohasalreadyhadoneminorheartattack.WhenIwas

talkingtoMrs.Chaudryacoupleofhoursago,Idiscoveredthathersonlosthisjobandthenhishome.He
andhisfamilymovedinwithher,whichiscausingalotofstress.IdoubtDr.Leeknowsthis,orifshe
does,givesitmuchconsideration.Becauseoftimeconstraints,Dr.Leeisabletospendbarelyfive
minutesgivingMrs.Chaudryhertestresults,andeventhoughthedoctorendswithageneralwarning
aboutexercise,diet,andstress,Ican’thelpbutfeelfrustrated.Suchamissedopportunitytoencourage
Mrs.Chaudrytomakespecificchanges—simplethingslikewalkingormeditation—thatcouldreleaseher
stressandextendherlife.

Iknowthisiswhatmydadmeanswhenhecomplainsthatwedon’ttreatthewholeperson.YetIalso

knowthatDr.Leeisagooddoctorwhocares,butisconstrainedbytherealitiesofadifficulthealthcare
system.Iblowoutabreathandremindmyselfit’seasiertocreatechangefromwithin.Ihavetobelieve
thatIcandothingsbetterinordertokeepgoing.

AfterIleaveDr.Lee,Iheadtothewomen’slockerroomtochange.Iwassoengrossedinmyshiftthat

Ialmostforgotabouttonight.ButnowI’mslippingintoasoftV-necksweaterandatightpairofjeans.I
evenputonmakeupandmakemyhairextrastraightandglossy.AllsoIcangotoJeff’shouse,getnaked,
andbanghimsilly.

Imustbeoutofmydamnmind.
It’sridiculoustosneakaround,butifIwenthometogetpretty,LizziewouldknowIwasafteraman.I

understandwhyJeffwantstowaittotellhissisteraboutus;hewantstomakesurewe’renotgoingto
crashandburnafteronenightandthenregretopeningourbigmouths.Andhewantsittobeprivate,even
forjustalittlewhile.Butit’sgoingtofeelshittykeepingthisfromher.

IgivemyselfapeptalkasIparkatJeff’sandgoaroundtheCraftsmanhouse,upthewell-litpathto

hisstudio.Iknockonhisdoor—alittletoohardmaybe.Threeagonizingsecondsgoby,duringwhichI
fearImightturnaroundandRoadRunneritbacktomycar,atrailingcloudofdustinmywake.Ican’t

believeI’msonervous.Butit’sbeenalongtimeforme,andnowIcan’tevenrememberthereasonwhy.

Jeffopensthedoor,wearingacrispwhiteT-shirtandanoldpairofjeans,and—sweetmother—I’m

sogladIwaited.Becausemybodyhums,mybrainshutsoff,andI’mleftwithonlyone,overwhelming
thought:Iwantthisman.

Hereachesformywristandtugsmeintothehouse.ThedoorslamsshutbehindusafterJeffkicksit

withonebarefoot.Hismouthisonmine,hishandsareeverywhere,andhe’skissingmelikewe’reonthe
Titanicsayingourfinalfarewells.

Hestepsbackwithacockygrin.“Sorry.Ineededtogetthatoutofthewayfirst.Youhungry?”
“Hellyeah,”Isay,launchingathim.Hecatchesme,wrapshisarmsaroundmywaist,andliftsmeinto

theair.AndthatturnsmeonsomuchthatIalmostswoonlikethosewhiteladiesinoldromancenovels.
Instead,Igrabhisass.

Hecarriesmetowardhisroom,buthastostopatthebottomoftheladder.Hethunkshisheadonone

oftherungs.

“Okay,youwererightaboutthisladder.”
“Lastoneupdoesn’tgetoral,”Ilaugh,pushinghimoutoftheway.
Heclimbsupquickly,crowdingbehindme.Itrytoclimbfaster,buthesmacksmybutt.
“Youdidnotjustdothat,”Isayovermyshoulder.
“Couldn’thelpit.”
Finally,wegettothetopandcollapseontohisbed.Wekissandtussle,myfingersinhishair,hisin

mine.I’msothankfulthere’snoawkwardness,noconversation.There’stimeforthatlater.RightnowI
needmyhandsonhim.

Hetugshisshirtoffandoverhishead,throwingittotheside.Hechucksitsohardthattheshirtsails

overtherailanddownbelow.

Iniphisbottomlip.“Nicearm.”
Jeffgivesthesametreatmenttomysweater,althoughthatstaysintheloft.Whenheseesmeinmybra,

hecloseshiseyesforasecondandtakesadeepbreath.

Iusetheopportunitytoshuckmyjeans,andthenIleanbackonmyarms,theredlacecupsofmybra

strainingwiththeeffort.

Jeffopenshiseyes,andtheyscanlongandslowoverme.Ican’thelpbutpreeninside.Maybealittle

ontheoutside,too,becauseIshakemyhairandsmilelikeapinupgirl.

“Thisissomuchbetterthanwhenyouflashedme,”hesays.“Andthat’ssayingsomething.”
Ipullhimdownontopofme,andItingleeverywhereourskintouches.Iknowhefeelsittoo,because

hekissesme,slowanddeep,hishandrunningdownmyside.

Hecomesupforair.“RememberwhenwewereshovedintothebackofRyan’stinycarthenightwe

met?”

“Yeah.Youcalledme‘sweetheart’inanangrycavemanwaybecausewewerefighting.”
Hekissesmyshoulder,andIshudder.
“Yeah.Thewholetime,Ireallyjustwantedtoripyourclothesoff.”
Myhandsmovedowntothefrontofhisjeans.“Me,too.”
Hehelpsmetugdownhispants,andhelookssosexyinhisboxerbriefsthatIwanttodevourhim.So

Ido.

First,Islidemymouthoverhischest,stoppingtolickalltheplacesIadmiredwhenIcaughthimfresh

fromtheshower.Somanyhillsandvalleystoexploreonaguy.Hetriestoregaincontrolbypullingme
backuptohim,butI’mnothavingit.

“It’sbeenalongtime.Letmeplay,”Ifinallywhisper.

Hisonlyresponseisagroan,soIheadlower.ButjustasIgettothebestpart,Irealizewehaven’t

talkedaboutanyoftheimportantthings.

Imoveuptolookathim,pleasedthathe’sdazed.
“Iknowyou’realwaysprepared,butisthereanythingIshouldknowabout?Downbelow?”
Hedoesn’tcatchmymeaning,soIgivehimasecond.
“Oh.No,”hesays.“I’mcareful.AndI’vebeentested.You?”
“Same.AndI’monbirthcontrol.”
“I’llstillusesomething,”hesaysquietly.
“Okay.”AndnowIfeelawkward.EventhoughIhavenoreasonto.Eventhoughthisisasensibleand

necessarydiscussion.Butforsomereason,ithitsmethatIamabouttogodownonLizzie’sbrother,andI
gocold.

Jeffputshisarmsaroundmeandpullsmeclose.“Wecanstopifthisistooweirdforyou.Imight

jumpoutofthisloftheadfirst,butwecanalwaysstop.”

Ismileagainsthisstrongchestandrunmyhandsoverhispatchofblondhair.Itrytoshutmybrainoff

andjustfeel.Thewarmthofhisbody.Thefirmnessofhischestandlegscomparedtomine.Thekindness
heexudes,evenwhilehisbodyisurginghimon.HowcrazythatIwanttobetheonetosoothethatache.I
kisshimagain,reachingbehindmetounsnapmybra.Ashewatchesme,Islipthestrapsoffandtossitto
thefloor.

Hedoesn’tcomplimentmeagain,doesn’tsayaword,infact.Buthiseyesgowider,andheslides

downmytorsototakeonenippleinhismouth.Afewfeatherkissesandkittenlicks,andmybodyison
fireagain.

Hekisseshiswaydownmystomach,asIarchmybacksohecanslipoffmypanties.Isuddenlyfeel

desperate—likeifhedoesn’ttouchmeI’mgoingtocry.Andthenhedoes,andIcryalittleanyway.He
looksupatmeandfreezes.

“Areyouokay?”
There’snowaytoexplaintohimhowgooditfeelsafterallthistimetohavesomeonesmartand

sweetwantme—andmostofall,formetoletmyselfwantthemback.Ipullhimtome,mybloodpulsing
sofastI’mfaintfromit.

“Don’tstop,”Isay.“Ifwe’regoingtodothis,thenIwanttodoitall.Everything.Don’tholdback.”
Hekissesmehardandfast,andthenheslidesdownmybodyandputshismouthonme.Idon’t

wonderifhe’sokaywithit.Nosmartassinternaldialogueaboutmybody.Instead,Igriphisheadandpull
himintome.Hedoesn’tletup,evenwhenIstartbegging,andmybodyconvulsesandexpandsunderneath
him.It’safierce,cleansingfeelingthatburnsthroughmelikeacomet.WhatanidiotIwastogosolong
withoutthis.

He’sontopofmenow,hiseyesferal,hisbreathingrapid.
“You’reamazing,Samantha.”Hegrabsacondomandslidesiton.
“Wait,letmetouchyou,”Isay.
“Ican’t.Ican’t.Nexttime.”
Hishandsaretremblingandthefeelofhimalongthelengthofmybodyistoomuch.SoIwrapmy

legsaroundhimandinvitehimin.Andit’sashock—foreignandfamiliarandfull.Butso,sogood.The
slide,thecontact,theurgency.

“Lookatme,”hesays,cradlingmyheadandtakingmymouth.
Kissinghimfeelsnecessary.Asourmouthsbecomecrazed,hefaltersandlosescontrol.Ispurhimon

—grabbinghisfirmass,liftingtomeethim.

“I’msorry.Ican’tstop,”hesays.

Hisdesperationisarelief,becauseIdon’twanttobetheonlyone.
“Giveittome,”Idemand.“Harder.”
“Oh,Sam.”Hisgentlenessisgone,replacedbyadrive,abeatingdrumdemandingmovement.Imatch

himrhythmforrhythm.AndthenheisshoutingmynameandIamwatchinghimcomeundone.Iloveit.I
loveit.Iloveit.

Welieentangledbutfloating,melostsomewhereinmythoughts,butstillregisteringthefeelofhim

againstme.

“Sorry,”hefinallymumbles.
Imanagetositupononeelbow.
“Whatthehellfor?”
Hegrabsmyhairandwindsitaroundhisfinger.“Iwouldn’texactlywinaprizeforthat

performance.”

Ibitehisearlobe.“Thisissupposedtobefun.Itisn’tacontest.”
“I’musuallyalittlemorethorough,”hesays.
“Seriously?Ifeellikealottowinnerholdingoneofthosegiantchecks.”
“Good.”Hissmileisbrightandpleased.
Weliethere,oursensesreturning,untilIbecomesqueamishthatwedidn’tsetanygroundrulesabout

whathappensaftersex.Idon’tknowwhattodonow.

“IguessIshouldgo,”Isayafterafewminutesofsilence.
“Seriously?”
Hesoundsbewildered,butevenworse,hesoundshurt.
Ipulltheblanketuparoundme.“Ithoughtweweren’tgoingtoguilteachother?”
IexpectJefftostartarguingwithme,ortoturnfrostyandgetoutofbed.Instead,hesitsuponone

elbowanddragstheblanketdownmychestwithonefinger,leavingmebaretothewaist.

“Yousurethat’swhatyouwant?”heasks,hisfacerelaxed,buthisvoicedeadlyserious.
“Maybe.”
Hisfingermakessmallcirclesonmycollarbone.“Ithoughtweweregoingtobehonest?”Roundand

roundhishandgoes,lowerandlower.I’velosttrackofwhatwe’retalkingabout.

“Ithoughtyou’dwantmetogo.”
Hisfingerstops.“Areyoucrazy?”
Andthenherollsmeontopofhim,andIcan’trememberwhyIconsideredleaving.

Forty-fiveminuteslater,IampantingandJeffislyingcomatose.

“Satisfiednow?I’mprettysureyoubrokesomething.”
“Worthit.Ifeelredeemed.Myeightoutoftenratingremainsintact.”
Ilaughsohard,mystomachaches.“Wasn’tawaretherewasofficialsexscoring.”
I’mstillhotfromalltheexertion,soIkicktheblanketsoff.There’sasmallskylightaboveJeff’sbed,

andIstrainmyeyesinthehopesofspottingastar.

“Staywithmetonight,”hesays.
Iturntolookathim.Thesheetisrestinglowonhiships,andhisarmisproppedbehindhishead.He

lookssexyenoughtobeinacondomad.

“Ican’tstay.Lizzieishomeandshe’llwonderwhereIam.”AndnowaydoIwanttolietoherwhen

sheasks.

Jeffsnakesahanddownmystomach.“Soarewegoingtogothroughwiththis?Ordidyougetmeout

ofyoursystem?”

IlovethefeelofJeff’stouch,theeasywaywecommunicatenowthatthesexualtensionisgone.“I

wanttheninetydays.”

“ThanktheLord.BecausethethingsIplantodotoyou...”
Irolltowardhim.“Yeah?Likewhat?”
Hesquintshiseyes,likehe’sworkingoutamathproblem.
“Idon’tknow,butI’mgoingtothinkupabunchofstuff.”
“Tryingtoworkyourwayfromaneighttoaten?”IguessedthatJeffhadacompetitivestreak,butI

didn’tknowitextendedallthewaytohisbedroom.

“Practicemakesperfect.”
Welaughtogetherforawhile,andthenwetalkaboutdumbthings—work,weather,Idon’tknow

what.

I’vemissedpillowtalk.
Hetwistshishandinmyhair,andIsmoothmyhanddownhisshoulder,becauseit’sdifficultnotto

touchhim.Itbeginstolullmeintoahaze,andIwanttopullthecoversupandgotosleep.Butbeing
wrappedinhisarmsallnightmightmakemelosesightofthefactthatthisisaninety-day-onlyaffair.He
isnotmyboyfriend,andIneedtogohome.

JeffwatchesmeasIgetdressed.
“WeneedtotellLizziesoon,”hesays.“One,becauseIhatekeepingthisfromher,andtwo,becauseI

wantyoutobeabletostayover.”

Inodandheaddowntheladder.Hewalksmetothedoor,ofcourse.
Irunonehandoverhishair,lovinghowthethick,blondstrandsfeelinmyfingers.“Tonightwas

betterthannice.”Infact,itwasatenoutoften.ButIdon’twanttotellhimthat.

Hisfacelightsup.“Hellyes,itwas.”
Hegivesmeonelast,longkiss,andIspendtherestofthenightmissingthefeelofhim.

Chapter10:Jeff

86DaysLeft

WanttocometodinnertonightatJude’s?Samwillbethere,

Lizzietexts

measI’mworkingatmydesk.

Definitely,thx

HerofferisespeciallywelcomerightnowbecauseIpulledanall-nighteryesterdaypreparinga

presentation.Thethoughtofsomeoneelsefeedingmeisenticing.

AsmuchasIlovemysister,though,IwouldkilltobealonewithSam.Wehaven’thadtimetosee

eachotherthepastfewdays,andthetextsandphonecallsonlymakemewanthermore.

LookslikeI’llseeyouatdinnertonight

,

ItextSam.

☺Wearyourjeans
Youlikethose,huh?

♥♥
Whatwillyouwearforme?

Iaskher.

It’saboutwhatIwon’tbewearing...

Great.NowmybloodrushessouthasIimaginethepossibilities.
IsendSamadevilemoji,alongwith,Wannacometomyplaceafterdinner?
Yes

Thisdayislookingupconsiderably.
Ihurryandfinishane-mailtomybosssoIcangethometochangeandthenheadtoJude’s.Iwould

havegonestraightthere,butifSamwantsjeans,she’llgetjeans.

AsIdrivehome,Iwonderwhatitisaboutthisgirlthatgetstome.She’sallswearingandsassand

darkeyes,butunderneaththat,there’sawholelotofintelligenceandcaring.Iwanttoknowher,andthat
unsettlesme.Thisissupposedtobeafun,hothookup—somethingI’veneverhadbefore.Ineedtobe
carefulnottodiveintoodeep.

AnimageofhercryingwhenItouchedherfillsmymind,andItrytoshakeitoff.
EarlyMarchisgorgeoushere—plentyofblueskiesandwarmair.Lizzieassuresmethatthesixty-

degreeweatherisstilltoofrigidforlocals,whichIfindhilarious.Notunlikethedrizzletheyinsistis
rain.IthrowonmyjeansandaT-shirtandspeedovertoJude’s.

Ontheway,myphonerings,andIanswer,thinkingit’sLizzie.
“HiJeff,thisisJocelynHill,yourmom’sfriend.”
ThisiswhyyoushouldneveranswerthephonewithoutcheckingcallerID.Mrs.HillisMom’sold

collegeroommate,whohappenstoliveintheBayArea.TheminuteMomknewIwasmovinghere,she
putinseveralcallstoacquaintances,askingthemtoinvitemeoverfordinner.Ineverycase,thereisa
daughterrightaroundmyagewhoiscoincidentallysingle.MommaynotbeMormonanymore,butshe
stillknowshowtomatchmakelikeone.

Thisisalldoneundertheguiseofcaring,ofcourse.Butreallyit’sMom’swayofexertingcontrol.

WhenIgraduatedhighschool,Iwantedtogotoschooloutofstate.Iwasconsideringschoolsin

Colorado,Ohio,andIllinois.MomkeptslippingUniversityofUtahbrochuresundermydoor.Whenthose
wereignored,shehadherfriendstalkitup.Thenshestartedintroducingmetogirlswhohadbeen
acceptedthere.Whennoneofthatworked,shesatmedownandexplainedout-of-statetuition,and
emphasizedhowmuchmybrotherswouldmissme.

Thenoneday,mybrotherMichael,whohasDownsyndrome,toldmehedidn’twantmefaraway.

Thathewouldbescaredwithoutme.MichaelandIhavealwaysbeenclose.Itwasmybedhecrawled
intowhenhewaslittleandhadnightmares,becausehesaidImadethemonstersgoaway.SoUniversity
ofUtahitwas.

IneveraskedMomifsheputMichaeluptothat;Idon’tthinkIcouldhavelivedwithhatingherforit

ifshehad.

SinceIleftUtahtolivemyownlife,nowisasgoodatimeasanytodrawbattlelines.
“Hello,Mrs.Hill.”
“It’ssonicetocatchyou.Iwashopingyou’dcometodinneratourhousethisSaturday—towelcome

youtothearea.I’msureyourmomtoldyouI’dbecalling.MydaughterLindsaywillbethere,soyou
won’tbestuckwithmeandRichard.”

Theurgetobepolitehasmeinitsdeathgrip,butIfightback.“UnfortunatelyI’malltiedupthis

weekend,ma’am.Iappreciatetheinvite.ButI’msettlinginreallywellandalreadyhaveafullschedule.”

“Oh.Well,ifyou’resure.Maybeanothertimethen.”Herwordsareclippedandterse,andIknowmy

motherisgoingtobefurious.

Butthenagain,I’magrownman—waytoooldtobefixeduponadatebymymommy.
“Thanksagainfortheinvitation,”Itellher.AndthenIhangupthephone.
TheexhilaratingfreedomisworththeearfulI’mgoingtoget.

Sam’seyeslightupwhensheopensthedoor,andthenrundownthelengthofmybody.Allworriesabout
mymotherarelongforgotten.

“Begood,”IwhisperasImovepasther,butallIcanthinkaboutisthelittleskirtshe’swearing,and

whatshemightormightnotbewearingunderit.

SamleadsmethroughJude’slivingroomtothekitchen,whereLizzieandJudearecooking.I’vebeen

toJude’shouseoncebefore.Ilikehowhe’smodernizedit,soit’scleanandsimpleinside.Thekitchen
lookslikeit’sbeenupdatedsincelastyear,too.

“Needhelpwithanything?”IaskLizzie.
“Sitandrelax.You,too,”shesays,pointingtoJude.“Icanfinishup.”
ShehandsmeandJudeabeerandshoosusallintothelivingroom.
“YouguyscareifIturnonthehockeygame?”Judeasks.
IsitdownonthecouchnexttoSam.“Definitelynot.”
JudeturnsonESPNandplopsdowninachair.
“That’sicing,youidiot,”JudeyellsattheTV,asthoughtherefcanhearhim.Can’tsayasIblamehim.
“YouaSharksfanyet?”heasks.
“Hellyes.”
Weclinkbeerbottlestotoastourloyalty.Samrollshereyes.
“Bringsbackmemoriesofourfirstfight,”Isaytoher.
Sheleansintome.“Yeah.Youdissedwomen’ssports.”
“Ididnot.”I’mtryingtoworkupalather,butshecrossesherlegsandherskirtinchesupherthigh.

I’mveryconsciousofJudebeingkitty-cornerfromme.Wehaven’ttoldLizzieanythingyet,soIhaveto

keepmyattractiontoSamunderwraps.Whichonlymakesthesituationhotter.

“Youactuallywatchanywomen’ssports?”Hervoiceisnormal,buthereyessparkwithmischief.
“Ofcourse.Whywouldn’tIwatchhot,athleticwomen?”
“Tootrue,”Judesays,nottakinghiseyesofftheTV.
SamglancesatJudetomakesurehe’sabsorbedinthegame.“Totalanimals.Bothofyou.”
Shetakesonehandandsnakesitundermyshirtnearmyhip.Judewon’tbeabletoseefromhis

vantagepoint,butIfeelhertouchlikeaburn.

NowayinhellcanIlethergetawaywiththat,soIputmyarmbehindheronthecouchandtracethe

backofherneckwithonefinger.It’simmediatelyclearthatImadeatacticalerrorwhensheshiversand
hernipplesgohard.Sheisnotwearingabra.

“Areyoukiddingme?”Iwhisperinherear.
Shesmilesatme,thedevilinherdimples.
WebothpullbackfromeachotherwhenLizziecomesoutofthekitchen.
“Dinner’sready,”shesays,asJudegetsupandgivesherapeckonthecheek.
Butasweheadtothetable,Judeshootsmeaknowing,accusatorylook—likehe’sontome.
ImakesurenottomaketoomucheyecontactwithSamduringdinner,andIavoidJude’sgaze

altogether.

“Imetagirlatthehospital,”Lizziesaysasshepassesdishesaround.“Hername’sHeather.She’sone

ofthenewernurses.Sam,doyouknowher?”

“Idon’tthinkso.”
Lizziespoonsanotherhelpingofchickenpiccataontoherplate.“She’sprettycute.Wantmeto

introducehertoyou?”sheasksme.

Samswallowsherwaterbadlyandstartscoughing.
IleanforwardsoLizziehearsmeloudandclear.“Quittryingtohookmeup.Seriously.”
“I’mtryingtohelpyoumakefriends.Heatherisreallysweet.”
“Ihatetobreakittoyou,butImeetlotsofwomenonmyown,Lizzie.”
“Lots?”Samasks,hertonefrosty.
Thisgirlhasaseriouslackofafilter.
ItmustbecleartoJudebythispointwhatisgoingon,because,blesshissoul,hejumpsintosavethe

day.“Babe,IheardfromRyantoday.”

Allchatteratthetablestops.ThingsmustbesoawkwardbetweenJudeandhisbrother,considering

JudesweptinandstoleLizzie.Lizziesaysitwasn’tlikethat,butifoneofmybrotherswentaftermygirl,
howcouldIeverlookathisfaceagainwithoutpunchingit?

“Oh,whatdidhesay?”Lizzieasks,tensionevidentinhervoice.
“HestilllovesJapan.Triedtotellmeabunchofpoliticalstuffthat’shappeningthere.He’sgoingto

travelwhenhisteachingjobends,sohe’llbehomeinearlyAugust.”Judeleansbackinhischair,
seeminglyatease.Iwonderifthat’sreallythecase.

Lizziegoesstill.“That’sgreat.We’llneedtomakesureI’mclearedoutofthehousebythen.”
Jude’seyesturnsteely.“No.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Lizzieasks.
Nowit’smeandSamwhoarethespectators.
“Imeanyoushouldmoveinwhenschoolisover.”
Lizzie’sbackgoesstraight.Weallgoquietforamoment.
“ButthenRyanwon’tfeelcomfortablelivinghere,”Lizziefinallysays.
“You’retheonethatkeepstellingmehe’sallgrownup.Hecanliveoncampusorfindanapartment.I

canhelphimoutwiththerentforawhileifheneedsit.”

“Wehaven’tevendiscussedthis.Andnow’snotthetime.”
LizziemakesthesamepinchedexpressionthatMomdoeswhenshe’sembarrassed.
Judemakesasweepinggesturewithhislongarms.“Whynot?You’regoingtotellSamandJeffall

aboutitanyway.Iwantyouinmybed.Everyday,everynight.”

“Oh,jeez,”Isay,asSamshakesherhead.
“Wecantalkaboutitlater,”Lizziesays,herwordssoft,butfinal.
Athoughtoccurstome,andIletoutasharpbarkoflaughter.Samlooksatmelikeshe’dtapemy

mouthshutifshecould.

“What?”Lizzieasks,annoyed.
“He’sgoingtohavetofaceDad.”
“What?”NowJudeisconfused.Hehasn’tmetmyparentsyet.
“Theydon’tbelieveinlivingtogetherbeforemarriage.Soifyoutwomoveintogether,bereadyto

facethegauntlet.”

“Areyouseriousrightnow?”Samasks.“Thisisn’ttheeighteenhundreds.Lizziecandowhatshe

wants.”

Itakealongpullonmybeer.“Shesurecan.Butthere’sstillgoingtobehelltopay.”
“I’mnotworriedaboutit,”Judesays,hiscockyswaggerinfulleffect.
“Youshouldbe.”IsmileatLizzie,andsheflipsmeoff.

ThetensioneasesafterdinnerasJudeandIfinishwatchingthegamewhilethegirlstalk.

IstarttothinkI’moutofthehotseatwithJude,butasIleave,hepullsmeaside.
“Howlonghasthatbeengoingon?”HegesturesinSam’sdirection.
“It’snew.”
“GuessI’mnotsurprised.Lizziesaidyoutwodidn’tlikeeachother,butIseeshewaswrong.”
Irotatemyheadtorelievetheacheinmyneck.“Idon’twanttotalkaboutthiswithyou.”
“Fine,dude.Butyouneedtotellyoursister.”
“Iwill.”
“Soon?”
“Soonenough.”
Heslapsmeontheback,likehe’salreadypartofthefamily.
“Good.Becauseifyoudon’t,I’mgoingtohaveto.”
Arrogantbastard.IcanalmostseewhyLizzielikeshim.

“GoodthingI’vebeenrunningregularly,”Samsaysbetweenbreaths.

I’mtoowindedtoanswerher.Butthenagain,Ididthelion’sshareofthework.Ifyoucallhavingsex

withSamwork,whichIdefinitelydon’t.

“Bonuspointsforcreativeuseoftheladder,”shesays.
“Thatwasmoreaboutimpatience,butthankyou.”
Shelaughs.“Lookslikeyou’vebeenworkingonthatlistofthingstodotome.”
“Thatwaspureimprovisation.”Somehow,Sam’sskirtcameoffwhilewewerestilldownstairs.SoI

madeherclimbuptheladderfirst.

“Prettyquickonyourfeet.”Sherunsafingertipovermyear.
“Yeah,nottooshabby.Butyouprovidedtheinspiration.”

Shepropsherheaduponherhand,herhairsnakingdownhershouldersandbreasts.“GladIcould

helpyougetspontaneous.”

Herfaceisglowinginthelowlight.
“Youreyesarebeautiful.”I’mnotsurewherethatcamefrom,butIdon’twanttotakeitback.
Hersmiledissipatesasherfacebecomesguarded.Shedoesn’tseemlikesomeonewhowouldbeshy

abouttakingacompliment.Sowhatissheafraidof?

“DidIseeabanjodownstairs?”
Iletherchangethesubject.
“Yes.Andaguitar.Iplaythemboth.”
Hernosescrunches.
“Isthatweirdtoyouforsomereason?”Iask.
“Mydadplaysthebanjo.Sothat’salittlecreepy.”
“Ihatetokillthemoodevenmore,butsinceyoubroughtupfamily...weneedtotalktoLizzie.”
Samgetsquiet—probablythinkingofallthepossibleoutcomesoftellingmysister,justlikeIam.
“Iwanttotalktoherfirst,ifthat’sokay,”Samsays.“I’lldoittomorrow.ButhowdoIputthisinthe

bestpossiblelight?”

“Tellherthetruth.Thatwelikespendingtimetogether.”
“Yeah.”Samgetsupandgetsdressed.Assheshimmiesherskirton,Ithinkaboutwhatwe’vebeen

doingforthepasthour,andIwanttodoitalloveragain.

“I’mgoingtochangeyourmindaboutthatbanjo,”ItellherasIkisshergoodnight.
“Notinthislifetime,sugar.Myparentsmademelistentotoomuchfolkmusic.I’mscarredforlife.”
Ichuckle.“GoodluckwithLizzietomorrow.”
“Thanks.I’mgoingtoneedit.”
Shegivesmybuttasqueezeandheadsoutintothenight.
It’sonlyaftershe’sgonethatIrealizeEvaissittingonherbackporchreadingathicknovel.She’s

lessthanthirtyfeetfrommyfrontdoor,whichmeanssheprobablysawmegetgroped.

IpassEvaandDiegooftenaswecomeandgofromthehouse,butIhaven’tmadeanyefforttotalkto

them—ortoapologize.Notimelikethepresent.

“Didn’tmeantointrude,”EvasaysasIapproachher.There’saglassofsomethingsittingnexttoher.

“IcomeoutheresometimesafterDiego’sasleep.”

“Youdidn’t.I’mjustgladyoudidn’tgetmoreofaneyeful.”
Shesetsherbookdownonawickersidetable,makingsuretoputabookmarkwheresheleftoff.

“Sheseemsnice.Funny.”

“Sheis.”Allofthatandalotmore.“Hey,soI’vebeenmeaningtocomeoverandtalktoyou.”
“Issomethingwrongwiththeplace?”Sherubsthebackofherlong,gracefulneckwithonehand.

She’sprobablystifffromreading.

Ishakemyhead.“Iwantedtoapologize.ForthewayItreatedDiegothedayImovedin.”
“Noteveryoneiscomfortablewithkids.Andheshouldn’thaveinvadedyourspace.”
Niceofhertotryandgivemetheout,butthatmakesmefeellikeanevenbiggerjerk.“Iwasrudeto

himandtherewasnoexcuse.AndIdolikekids.”

“Okay,well,thanks.I’llstillmakesurehedoesn’tgetinyourhair.”
Iputmyhandsinmypockets,frustratedthatshethinksI’mthekindofguywhocan’tstandtobe

inconveniencedbyachild.

“No,pleasedon’tdothat.”Ipause,notwantingtoairmylaundryinfrontofastranger,buthatingthe

ideathatEvathinksbadlyofme.“IletoldmemoriesgetawayfrommeandtookitoutonDiego.That’s

all.”

Shestaysquiet,andIrespectherforit.Shecansensethere’smoreIneedtosay,butshedoesn’trush

meandItakethebait.

“IalmosthadasonDiego’sage.We,uh,losthimbeforehewasborn.”
“I’msorry.”Evaleansforwardonherknees.
“Iknowitshouldn’tbepainfulallthistimelater.Idon’tthinkaboutitmuch.ButDiegojustreminded

me.”

“There’snorhymeorreasontogrief.”
“Iguessthat’strue.”
Evatipsherhead,herchin-lengthhairhangingtooneside.“Youwouldhavebeenayoungparent,like

Iwas.”

“Wouldn’thavebeeneasy.”
“No.Andit’snoteasybeingasinglemom,either.Butwedookay.”
“I’veseenDiego’sdadcomepickhimup.Dotheyhaveagoodrelationship?”
Eva’sfacefalls,andIcantellthisisasourceofpainforher.“Mostly.Hetriesreallyhard.Buthe

couldn’tbethehusbandhewantedtobe,andhe’snotalwaysthedadheneedstobe,either.”

IassumedthatEvawassinglebychoice.NowIrealizethatshemaybesingle,butshe’snot

unattached.I’msurefindingtheenergyforarelationshipontopofeverythingshedealswithmustbehell.

“TellDiegohecancomebyanytime,”Isay.
Hersmilefeelslikearewardformanningupandapologizing.“Okay.ButI’llleaveoutthe‘anytime’

partwhenItellhim.Trustmeonthatone.”

Chapter11:Sam

85DaysLeft

“Howdidstudyinggolastnight?”Lizzietakesanotherbiteofherscrambledeggs.

SheandIarebothbusytoday,sothisistheonlytimewe’llseeeachother.WhichmeansIneedtotell

heraboutJeff.Rightnow.Idon’tkeepanythingfromLizzie,andtheguiltthispastweekhasbeenintense.
SortoflostsightofitbecauseofhowmuchfunI’mhavingflirtingwithJeff,butit’stimetopaythetab.

Ishovelinanotherforkfulofeggsanddeflectherquestion.“Thesearereallygood.”
Igetupandcleartheplateswhenwe’redone.Buysmeanotherminutetoformulatemystrategy.It’s

notlikeIthinkLizzieisgoingtodoanythingbadtomewhenshefindsout.Herideaofholdingagrudgeis
notbakingsomeonecookies.Butthat’sthething.I’mafraidofhurtingher,nottheotherwayaround.

“Whyismybrothertextingyou?”Lizzieisstandingatthetable,glancingdownatmyphone,whichI

leftsittingthere.

“Shit,”Imutterundermybreath.Waytobestealthy.
“Ididn’tmeantosnoop,itpoppedupandcaughtmyeye.”
IstareatLizzieasherfacetransformsfromperplexedtoangrytohurtinthespaceofasecond.
“Iwasabouttotalktoyou,”Isay,knowingitsoundslikealie.
Herfacestraightensout,alongwithherspine.“Thentalk.”
“I’mseeingyourbrother.”
Sherestsherhiponthetable.“What?”
“We’redating.”Whichisthenicestpossiblewaytoframeit.
“Howlong?”
“Justaweek.”
“Butyoudon’tevenlikeeachother.”Herarmsfoldaroundher,likeshe’swounded.
“Turnsoutitwassexualtension.Surprise,”Isay,shakingmyhandsintheair.
Lizzieshakesherheadsohardherhairswingsbackandforth.“No.Toosoonforjokes.Givemea

minute.”

“’Kay.”Isitdowninmychairandtakeadeepbreath.
Lizzieseeksasyluminthekitchenandpoursherselfanothercupofcoffee.Shestandsthere,carefully

stirringincreamandsugar.Andthenshestirssomemore.

“Dammit,girl.You’rekillingme.Talktome.”
Sherollshereyes,buttakespityonmebysittingbackdown.“Thatwaslikefortyseconds.Your

patienceistheworst.”

Ilookherintheeye,becauseIwanthertoseemysincerity.“Weweren’tgoingtokeepitfromyou,I

swear.Wejustwantedtomakesureitwasn’taone-timething.”

“Ibelieveyou.”Sheblowsoutabreath.“ButIdon’tknowhowtofeelaboutit.You’retwoofmy

favoritepeople,whichmakesitweird.Like,I’llenduphavingtopickaside.ButIguessifitgoeswell.
..”

Mystomachsinksasitdawnsonmethatsheishopingforsomekindofhappilyeverafter.

“It’sonlytemporary,”Itellher.“JustuntilIgraduate.”
Lizzie’sfacegoesfromconfusedtospittingmad.“Well,youneverknow.Maybeyoucoulddoalong-

distancething?”

“No,thoseneverwork.Andneitheroneofuswantsarelationship.”
“Oh.”Shesetshercoffeedown.“Soyou’rejusthookingup?Lumpinghiminwiththeotherlosers

you’vebeenwiththispastcoupleyears?”

“Ouch.”
“That’swhatyoucalledthem,Sam.WhatamIsupposedtothink?”
“He’snotaloser.Butwewanttokeepthingscasualrightnow.Isn’tthatwhatyou’vebeentellingus

bothtodo?”

Hersilencesuckstheairoutoftheroom.
“What?”Iaskher.“Spititout.”
“Ididn’tmeanwitheachother.He’sbetterthanthat.Andsoareyou.”Herhandsarewrappedaround

hercoffeemugsotightly,Ithinkshemightshatterit.

Well,thatfrostsmyass.IhatethatI’veupsether,butIdon’tfeellikeJeffandIaredoinganything

shameful.Iwon’tchoosehimoverLizzie,butIalsodon’twanttogiveupwithoutafight.“Whatisthat
supposedtomean?”

Lizziestaresdownandtracestherimofhercupwithherpinkiefinger.“Nothing.Justthatyouboth

deservesomethingsolid.Somethinglasting.Notaquickiethat’sgoingtoendinheartache.”

“Don’tyouthinkthat’salittledramatic?Noone’sgoingtogetheartbroken,Lizzie.”
“Really?Howlongdoesittaketofallforsomeone?Aweek?Amonth?Iknowyoubothsowell,and

you’recrazyifyouthinkyouwon’tgethurt.”

I’msurprisedathowmuchherdisapprovalstings.“Well,ifso,that’sourmistaketomake.”

“Howdiditgo?”

Jefflookscuteinhisworkgarb—nicetailoredsuit,redgeometrictie,eachblondhairinitsplace.He

lookssoclean-cutthatIthinkIcouldeatoffofhim.MaybeIwill.Exceptwe’reinarestaurant,sothat
willhavetowait.

“Youknowthosenatureshowsaboutgiantantsthatattacktheirpreyandstingthemtodeathslowly?

Likethat.”

“Damn.”Jeffunfoldshisblueclothnapkinandputsitinhislap.“Shetextedmefromworkandsaid

shewantstotalktomorrow.She’sgoingtotearmeanewone.”

“Shealreadylaidintome.Somaybeshe’llspareyou.”
“Nope.Shelooksuptome.She’sgoingtoputanyblamesquareonmyshoulders.”
“Well,there’snoblame.We’renotdoinganythingwrong.”Itapmyfingernailonthetablecloth,trying

toconvincemyselfthiswillallworkout.“Doyouthinkshe’llforgiveus?”

“Absolutely.Luckily,she’sreallybadatbeingmad.Andoncesheseesustogether—getsusedtothe

idea—Ithinkshe’llbefine.”

I’mbankingonJeffbeingright.Becausegoodfriendsareashardtofindasrealbreastsinaporno.I

can’taffordtoloseLizzie.

IcalmmyselfdownbylookingpastJeffatthehugeDayoftheDeadfigurestandinginthemiddleof

therestaurant.Kindofmorbid,butsocolorfulandenergetic.Guessthat’sthepoint.Workinginahospital,
Iunderstandthathonoringdeathaffirmslife.Butrightnow,Idon’twanttothinkaboutendings,only
beginnings.

Tintileslinetheceiling,reflectingthepatiolightstwinedthroughoutthelattice.Thisisdefinitelya

dateplace,andIgivemyselfsilentpropsforgettingbackinthegame.

InoticeJeffrubbinghisshoulder,likeit’stender.
“Didyouhurtyourself?”
“Wrenchedmyshoulder.It’llbefine.”
“Youshouldtryamassage.Oracupuncture.”
Jefflookslikehedrankspoiledmilk.“Howcanyoubelieveinacupuncturewhenyou’restudyingto

bearealdoctor?”

“PrettysureyoujustdissedlikeabillionChinesepeople.”
Hecrosseshisarmsandstudiesme.“Soyou’resayingitworks?”
“Yes.Itdoes.There’sactualsciencetobackthatup,bytheway.Eitherway,you’relimitingyourself

ifyousticktotheconventional.”

Heshrugs.“It’swhatIknow.”
“SoI’mguessingyoudon’twanttocometooneofmydancetherapyclasses?”
“Whatinthehellisthat?”
“It’stherapythroughexpressivedance.It’sactuallybeendoneforthousandsofyears.Somepeople

evendoitingroups—naked.”

Jeffdoesn’tspeak,soIlethimwallowinhisconfusionuntilhefinallybreaks.“You’retellingme

you’vedancedwithabunchofstrangersnaked?”

“Yeah.Itwasn’tbad,butIprefertheclothedversion.Allthatjigglinggetsdistracting.”
Jeffmotionstohissoda.“Imightneedsomethingstronger.”
“Doesthatfreakyouout?”
Heholdshisfingersupaninchapart,toindicateonlyalittlebit.“Thereareactuallyalotof

naturalistsinUtah,especiallyinthemountains.Butyou’realotmorefree-spiritedthanotherwomenI’ve
dated.That’sforsure.”

“Myparentswouldlaughiftheyheardyousaythat.”
Thewaiterbringsoutamortarandpestleandcombinesonions,cilantro,andotheringredients.Then

hecutsupavocadosandmashesourguacamolerightinfrontofus.

Jeffscoopsahugeamountontoachip.“Whywouldyourparentslaugh?”
“Well,it’sallrelative.Mymomgavemeavibratorformysixteenthbirthday,soyaknow.”
Jeffchokesonhischipandbarelyavoidsspewingapieceoutofhismouth.“Seriously?”
“Mydadisatotalhippie—SantaCruz,bornandraised.MymomwasagoodCatholicgirl,butshe

gavethatupandstartedfreewheelingitwithmydad.Theyworknine-to-fiveslikeeveryoneelse,butthe
restofthetimethey’renakedintheirhottuborgoingtoBurningManorsomething.”

“ThatmustmakeforahellofaChristmascard.”
Ilaugh.“Holidaycard,youmean.WecelebratemorethanChristmas.IthinktheywishIwere

travelingtheworldorhavingcrazyaffairs.TheythinkI’mtooserious.”

Jeffshakeshishead.“Wow.Mydad’sversionofsexedwasthrowingcondomsatmewhenIwas

sixteenandtellingmetousethem—everysingletime.ButI’msureyoualreadyknowallaboutmy
family.”

“Yeah.Lizzie’stoldmestories.”
“Soareyoutooserious?”
“Aboutsomethings.ButIknowhowtohaveplentyoffun.”Mysmileissoflirty,there’snowayhe

canmissit.

Ourguacamolegetswhiskedawaybecauseit’sempty,andsoonafter,thewaitersetsourfooddown.I

takeasecondtoclosemyeyesandinhalethedeep,chocolateyscentofmymole.WhenIopenmyeyes,
Jeffisstaringatme.

“Iwanttoknowmoreaboutyou,”hesays.
“Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”
“Everything.”
Mypulsegrindstoahalt.AndthenIrememberwhatLizziesaidaboutheartsgettingbroken.
“Maybeweshouldn’tgettoopersonal,”Isay.
Heleansbackinhischairandtakesasipofhissoda.“Sexisn’tpersonal?”
“YouknowwhatImean.Wheredowedrawthelines?”
“I’mtryingtogetawayfromrules,notaddmore.Let’sstartwiththebasics.Andwhenyoufeellike

I’maskingtoomuch,youletmeknow.”

“Okay.Icanlivewiththat.”
Hisphonedingsandheglancesdown.
“Youneedtogetthat?”
“No.It’smymom.I’llcallherlater.”
Aswesitandenjoythecoolnightaircominginfromthepatio,IlookupandcatchJeffwatchingme.

Hisshysmilemakesmyfacegohot,likeitdidwhenIfirststartedcrushingonboys.Ican’trememberthe
lasttimeIfeltthisrelaxedbutexcited.Jeffisaparadox;comfortableandeasy,butbutterfly-inducing.

Wemakesoftconversationuntilhefinallyslipshishandintomineandanticipationburnslowinmy

abdomen.Itslidesupward,makingmyheartpulseandmybreaststighten.Hisfingersstrokemyopen
palm,ignitingeverynerveinmyarm.Hehassparkedacurrent,andIknowhefeelsittoo,becausehis
lipspartandhiseyesgohazy.

Whenourwaiterappearstoaskifwewantdessert,themomentisbroken.ButatleastIgettoorder

chocolate-dippedchurros.

“I’veneverhadoneofthose.Aretheygood?”Jeffasks.
“Whydidn’tyouordersomethingyouwanted?”
Heshrugs.“It’sfine.”
Itapmyfingeronthetable.“Youletmeordertheappetizer,too.Doyoudothatalot?”
“What?”
“Defertowhatyourdatewants.”
Hefrowns.“Ithoughtthatwaspolite.Moststuffisn’tthatimportanttome,soIdowhatmakesthe

otherpersonhappy.It’snotabigdeal.”

“Maybe.Butifyouhadordered,whatwouldithavebeen?”
Jefftwistshislipsashethinksaboutit.“Friedicecream.”
Igetourwaiter’sattentionandordertheicecream.“Now,you’regoingtohavetoeattwodesserts.”
Hisfrownreappears.“Youdidn’thavetodothat.”
IsitbackandconsiderJeff,likeI’mviewinghimunderamicroscope.Hisneatappearance,hisgood

manners,andhiscalmdemeanor—they’renotafacade.Butthey’renotthewholestory,either.What
wouldittaketomakehimbustallthewayoutofthatprettyshellhe’sconstructed?

“Nexttime,behonestaboutwhatyouwant.HowelsewillIlearnwhatyoulike?”
Hestartstofidgetwithhisfork,twirlingitbetweenhisfingers.“Fairenough,”hefinallysays,closing

offthesubject.

Helikesthechurrosjustfine,butwhenheeatstheicecream,hemakesa“yummy”soundthatdelights

me—onsomanylevels.

“So,yourparentsmustbereallyproudyou’regoingtomedschool,”hesayswhenhe’salmostdone.

“Inmyfamily,it’slikeanactofrebellion.TheywouldhavebeenjustasproudifIhaddecidedtobea

yogainstructor.Maybeevenmoreso.Daddoesn’tbelieveWesternmedicinetreatsthewholeperson.He
thinksit’sabrokensystem.Idon’ttotallydisagree.”Imentallyreplaymymanylong,philosophical
conversationswithDad—whichwerereallyarguments,butweweren’tallowedtocallthemthat.

“Sowhydidn’tyoubecomeayogainstructor?”
He’snotthefirstpersontowonderhowmyparentsendedupwithakidlikeme.“Becausesciencehas

structure.Itmakessense.”

Henods.“Ifanyoneunderstandswantingtopushfamilyboundaries,it’sme.”
“I’mnotcomplaining.Myparentshavealwayssupportedme.”
“Thatmustbenice.”Helooksdownathisplate.
“Youdon’tthinkyourparentsareproudofyou?”
“No,theyare.Butsometimesitfeelslikethereareconditionsonit.Like,Imightdosomething

somedaythatwouldchangehowtheyfeelaboutme.”Helooksaway.“Sorry.Idon’tknowwhyI’m
gettingintoallthis.”

Jeff’sbodylanguagechanges—hisbackstraightens,hisshouldersshift.Ifhecouldbestraightening

histie,hewouldbe,buthe’snotwearingone.Obviously,talkingabouthisfeelingsisnothisstrongsuit.
Hewouldn’thavelastedfiveminutesinmyfamily.ButIwouldn’thavelastedaminuteinhis.They
wouldhaveabandonedmeonthecurb.

“Yousurethat’snotpressureyou’reputtingonyourself?”
Hiseyesdartbacktome.“Maybe.It’simportanttometodotherightthing,Iguess.”Helaughs,but

it’snotahappysound.“Thatsoundssoboring,doesn’tit?”

Jeffisstrugglingwithsomethingdeeper.Anidentitycrisis,orsomething.Whichisstrange,because

fromwhereI’msitting,he’skindofperfect.HeheldmyarmwhenIwascrossingabusystreet,gave
moneytoeveryhomelesspersonweencounteredonourwaytotherestaurant,andorderedasodafor
dinnerbecauseheknowsIdon’tdrink.True,hedescribesthecolorredas“loud,”andhelikesroutine.
Butgoddamn,thereisalottobesaidforaguythatisconsistent.

Jeffinsistsonpayingthecheck.Heisalittledistantandunfocused,soIslipmyhandinhisaswe

leavetherestaurant.

“Ithinkwecanwalktothemovietheaterfromhere,”hesays.
Ihuddlenexttohimandpullhimcloser.“Yeah.Butwe’renotgoingtothemovie.Iwanttogotoyour

place.”

Hisheadspinsmydirection.I’mhappyforoncetohavenopokerface,becausehecantellexactly

whatI’mthinking.

We’rebothquietontheridebacktohisplace.ButonceIgethiminthedoor,Ikisshimlonganddeep.
“There’snothingboringaboutyou,”IsayasIrunmyhandsinhishair.Ipullhissweateroverhis

head,alongwithhisundershirt.

“Youdidn’tknowmebackinUtah.”
“Tellme.”
“Iwaslikearobot.Ten-hourworkdays,politedinnerswithagirlIdidn’tlovebutdidn’thavethe

ballstoleave.Mompressuringmetogetmarried.”Hislaughisbriefandpained.“OrmaybeI’mbeinga
whiner.MaybeIshouldhavebeenmoregrateful....”

“There’sareasonyou’rehere.Gowithyourgut.”
“Youknowwhattheysay.Youcan’trunawayfromyourproblemswhentheproblemisyou.”
“There’snotasingle,damn...”Ikisshischest,“...thing...”Ilickhisstomach,“...wrongwith

you.”I’monmykneesnow,becauseIwanttobe.Iknowhowmuchitwillexcitehimtostaredownatme

asIundohispants,slidethemoff,andmakehimcrazy.Jeff’spassionisthere,butit’slikehe’swaiting
forpermissiontounleashit.AndIwanttobetheonetogivehimthatpermission.

Sothat’sexactlywhatIdo.

Chapter12:Jeff

84DaysLeft

I’mtryingtowork.HonesttoGod,Iam.ButthememoryofSam’seyes,hermouth,herlips,won’tallow
it.Thesensationissoreal,sostrong,shiversracedownmylegs.Thiswassupposedtobeacasualthing.
Butshehasruinedme,andnowIthinkI’mobsessed.

It’slust,IremindmyselfasIheadtomyfourthmeetingoftheday.Ilikeher—absolutely.Butit’sonly

physicalchemistry.That’stobeexpected.It’slikeanoppositesattractthing.

Iendupworkinglate,andsinceSam’sworkingtoo,Igohometoanemptyhouseandeatdinnerin

frontoftheTV.

I’mnotansweringmymom’scalls,soshetextsmeagain.She’smoreontopofthingsthanDad,who

stillrefusestogetacellphone.

WhydidyousaynotoMrs.Hill?

Timetomanupandstoprunningfrommymother.BecauseIdidn’twanttogo.
You’rebeingrudetomyfriends.
Youhaven’tseenherinyears.Andpleasestoptryingtoarrangemy

sociallife.

AsIhitsend,IgetacallfromLizzie.JustwhatIneed;anotherangryfemalerelation.
“Yes,dearestsister,”Ianswer.
Shesighs.“I’mtootiredfromworktocomeover,sowe’regoingtoneedtodothisonthephone.”
“You’remakingitsoundlikeI’mgoingtotheelectricchair.”
“Jeff,she’smybestfriend.Why?”
“You’retheonethattoldmetomeetanicegirl.”Lizziegoesquiet,andIknowIwon’tbeteasingher

outofthismood.“Ireallylikeher,Lizzie.ButIdon’twanttohurtyou.Ifyouwantustostopseeingeach
other,wewill.”

“It’snotaboutme.Imean,itwasatfirst,becauseIwasfreakedout.ButnowI’mworriedaboutyou.”
Ilaybackonthecouch.“I’llbefine.”
“Stopblowingmeoff.Atleastoneofyouisgoingtogetattached.Whichmeansatleastoneofyouis

goingtogetyourheartsmashed.”

“We’rekeepingitcasual.”Sortof.Maybe.
“Yousaythatnow.WhenIfirstmetSamatthehospital,Ithoughtshewaspushyandloud.Butshe

growsonyou,quick.BecauseIfiguredsomethingout.”

“What?”
“She’sgotagiganticheart.Whensheloves,shelovesfierce.”
Mystomachfeelshollow,untilIrememberthatSamisinthisforthesamereasonsIam.“It’sfora

shorttime,Lizzie.Noone’sgoingtofallinlove.”Itrytotonedowntheexasperationinmyvoice.

“Look,I’mnotgoingtostopyoufromdoingwhatyouneedtodo.Butit’sannoyingthatyoualways

thinkyouknowbest.”

Ismile.“MaybeIdo.”

Shesighs,andIknowshe’sontheotherendofthephone,makingher“I’mnothappyaboutthis”face

atme.

“Iwon’tstandinyourway,”shesays.
“Promisemeyou’lltellSamthat.”
“I’lldotherightthingforSam.Justmakesureyoudo,too.”
Lizzieendsthecallabruptly,probablyneedingtimetocooloff.I’mleftwonderingwhenmylittle

sistergotoldenoughtolecturemeaboutrelationships.AndwhyIhavethenigglingfeelingIshouldlisten.

SamandIarehuddledtogetherinadarktheater,creatingtheillusionwe’realone.We’renot,butthere’re
onlytwoothercoupleshere,andthey’rewayupinthefront.

“Wefinallymadeittoamovie,”IwhispertoSamasthepreviewsdroneon.
Shesmilesandkissesme.“Ilovemovies.IusedtoridemybiketotownandseewhateverIcouldget

into.”

“Wehardlyeverwent.Howcomeyoudidn’tgowithyourparents?”
“Ididsometimes.Buttheywerebusyandtheytriedtomakemewatchartfilms.”
Samlaysherheadonme,asIthinkabouthowlonelyitwouldhavebeenwithoutmysiblings.I

pictureSamwhenshewasagirl,sittingaloneinatheater,anditbothersmeforsomereason.

“Wereyoualonealotasakid?”
Shestrokesmyarm,almostreflexively,likeshe’spettingakitten.Strangehowlittleweknowabout

eachother,buthowstrongtheurgeisforustostayconnectedphysically.

“Sortof.Mademeindependent,though,andgoodatmakingfriends.Speakingofwhich,areyouand

Lizzieokay?”

“Yeah.She’sworried,butIthinkshe’sgettingusedtotheidea.Howaboutyouguys?”
Aguyinthefrontofthetheaterturnstolookatus,likehe’snervouswe’regoingtotalkthewhole

time.

“Tiptoeingaroundeachotheratinybit,butwe’realright.”
Samsoundsrelieved,andI’mremindedagainhowmuchLizziemeanstoSam.
Themoviestarts—aromanticcomedywhereyouknowexactlywhat’sgoingtohappenbeforeitdoes.

Whydon’tthesetwocharactersknowthey’regoingtoenduptogether?Doesn’tmatter,becauseIlove
leaningagainstSam.Beingthisclosetoherinthedark.

“Icallbullshitonthis,”Samsaysinapseudowhisper,meaningthecoupleupfrontcanprobablyhear.

“Lookather.”Shegesturestowardtheactressonthescreen.“Shewouldnotbesittingaloneona
Saturdaynight.”

Samtakesabiteofpopcorn,whichsilencesherforafullthirtyseconds.“Andhowdoesheaffordthat

apartmentifhe’sastrugglingmusician?”

Theguyinthefrontturnsagainandshushesus,soIfocusbackonthescreen.
“Andherecomesthequirkybestfriend.Rightoncue,”Samsays,openingtheRedVines.Atleast

she’sloweredhervoice.

Shefinallynoticesmysilenceandturnstolookatme.“What?”
“Arewegoingtowatchthiscrappymovie,orwouldyouliketotalkthroughit?”
“Fine,”shesays,assherestsherheadonmyshoulderandherhandonmyarm.Hermouthopensand

closeslikeshestillwantstosaysomething,whichisadorable.

I’velostallinterestinthemovie,especiallysinceSam’slavenderandvanillascentismuddlingmy

concentration.Ineedtogetclosertoher.

Inuzzlehergentlywithmychinandstrokeherknee,tryingtobecontentwiththatsmallcontact.My

handhasamindofitsown,though,andcreepsfartherupherthigh.ThankheavenforCalifornia,because
Sam’swearingshortsinMarch,andherskinfeelslikesilk.Except,shestaysstiffasastatueasItouch
her,somaybeshe’snotintoit.Iclearmythroatandtellmyselftostopbehavinglikeateenageboy.

ThenSam’shandclosesovermine.Inchbysmoothinch,shemovesithigher.Shefidgetswithher

shorts,andnowtheyarejustlooseenoughformetoslipmyfingersunderneath.

God,womenfeelamazing.Theyarelikeasecretyouleanintohear,thewarmthofafire,andthe

slicknessofasummerrain,rolledintoone.SamisguidingmewhereIneedtogo,butIdon’twantto
makeitsoeasy.Islowdownandteaseinsteadofsatisfy.She’snotonetoplayfairthough,sosheleans
overandsticksthetipofhertongueinmyear.

“Mmm,”shemoans,undoingthetopbuttonofmypantsandmovingherhandwhereIwantitmost.
“Shh.Weshouldn’t,”Iwhisper,myvoicebreakingasmybodysparksfromhertouch.“We’regoingto

getcaught.”

Shelaughsandgripsmetighter.“Livealittle.”
Iputmyforeheadtohers.“Whatisitaboutyou?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“I’mnotmyselfaroundyou.YoumakemewanttodothingsIshouldn’t.”
Sheputsherhandonmycheek,butherotherhandismakingsuchwicked,wickedmotions.“WellI

sworeoffguysuntilImetyou,soIthinkwe’reeven.”

Wemaybothberiskingsomething,butwe’recertainlynoteven.BecauseIhaven’thadmyfeetunder

mesinceImetthisgirl.Andaswebothstarttosweatandstrain,andfinally,swearsoftlyintothedark,I
havetheterriblefeelingthatImaynevergainmyfootingagain.

Icanbarelykeepmyeyesopen.TotallyworthitbecauseIspentanotherlongnightwithSam.First,I
madeherdinner,whichwasacompletefailurebecauseIforgottousesalt.Sheateeverybite,soIhad
herfordessert.Andthenwewentbackforsecondsinthemiddleofthenight.

Ijustgothomefromwork,andI’msittingherestaringatthewall,relivingthememory.Prettysure

I’veblownacircuitsomewhere.

Myphonerings,pullingmeoutofthehaze.
“Bro,whydoestheclutchstickwhenIputitinfourthgear?”
Ilowerthevolumeonmyphone—arequirementwhenit’sBruceontheotherend.
“Theclutchisfine.Justusemoreforce.AndbegratefulIsoldthetrucktoyouinthefirstplace.Imiss

heralready.”

Bruce’slaughboomsthroughmytinyspeaker.“Youreallyneedtogetawoman.”
Ican’tsmothermysmile.“Tookcareofthatalready.”
“Smugbastard.What’sshelike?”
Irunthroughalltheadjectivesfloatingaroundinmybrainbutnoneofthemseemright.
“Awwshit,”Brucesays,cuttingintomythoughts.
“What?”
“Idon’tlikethatpause.You’redoingitagain,aren’tyou?Youmeettheparentsalready?”
Igrabthebackofmyneck,rubbingawaythesuddenache.
“Realfunny.”
“Whenwilltheengagementbeannounced?Ineedtogetmybest-manspeechready.”
He’ssteppingonareallybignerve,asbestfriendscananddo.

“Youdick.It’sdifferentthistime.It’sjustforacouplemonthsuntilshemoves.”
Nowit’sBruce’sturntopause.“Ihopeso.’CauseotherwiseyouleftmyasshereinUtahfornothing.”
IthinkaboutSam—thewayshelaughsagainstmylipswhilewe’rekissing.Howshelooksme

straightintheeyewhenwedisagree.There’ssomethingspecialbetweenus.Butthisismychancetostart
over,andnomatterhowgreatsheis,Ican’tgobackward.Settlinginforaseriouscommitmentis
definitelyamoveinthewrongdirection.

Lizzie,Bruce—they’rebothtryingtowarnmetokeepmyselfincheck.MaybeIoughttodoSam—and

myself—afavorandkeepmoreofadistance.Becausepassionisonething,butlettingeachotherbelieve
it’smoreisanother.

“Yep.Definitelynotlong-term.”AndI’ddowelltorememberthat.

Chapter13:Sam

78DaysLeft

Yougiveaguyagoodtimeandhenevercallsyouagain.

Okay,hegavemeagoodtime,too.AndIguesshe’stexted.Mostly,though,Jeff’sbeenMIA.LikeI

promised,Ihaven’tbuggedhimaboutit.Ifhewantstoseeme,hewantstoseeme,andIguesshedoesn’t.
Heclaimshe’sbeenworkingalot,andI’msurethat’strue.Butwhodoesn’thavefifteenminutestomake
aphonecall?

Mylastclassofthedayisn’tforanotherhour,soIheadtothebubbleteaplacetomeetAngel.She

graduatedlastyearbutworksatastart-upinMountainView,whichmeansLizzieandIstillgettohang
outwithher.Today,Ineedsomeone-on-onetime.

Ispyherinthecornerdrinkingahugeredconcoction.Iorderamangogreenteaandjoinher.
“Yum.Itsmellsfruity-sweetinhere,”Isay.
Angelswirlsherdrinkaroundinhercup.“Yeah,likepink.Itsmellslikepink.What’sup,chica?”
“Sameold,sameold.”
Mywidestrawcatchessomeofthebobaballsatthebottomofmycup.Ichewandchew,thetapioca

squeakinginmyteeth.

“Ifeelgrosseatingthesesometimesbecausetheylooklikesquirrelballs.”
Angelsmirks.“Idoubtpeopleareslippingyousquirrelgenitals.”
“Hopenot,becauseIcan’tgivethemup.How’sitgoingwiththejerk?”ThatwouldbeAngel’sboss.
“Stillcrap.IfIhadadick,hemightrespectmyopinion.”Shenodsatme.“YouknowwhatI’m

saying.”

ToobadIdo.Medicineisn’tanylessofaboy’sclubthantech.
“Whydon’tyouleave?”
Shelicksredsmoothieofftheendofherstrawandthenusesitasapointer.“Imight.OrImighttryto

getpromotedinanotherdepartmentandthenmakehislifehell.We’llsee.”

Ihigh-fiveher.“Seeinganyonenew?”
“Eh.There’ssomeoneI’mthinkingabout,butitprobablywon’thappen.Mightbetoobigachangefor

me.I’llletyouknow.Whataboutyou?”

“I’mscrewingLizzie’sbrother.”
OnethingIloveaboutAngel:Shedoesn’treact.Shesitsthere,chewingonherstraw,staringatme

untilshe’sdiscardedherfirst,second,andthirdthoughtstogettotheheartofthematter.

Finally,shesetsherdrinkdown.“Thatbackfiredonyouyet?”
Iputmyheadinmyhands.“Atfirst,itwasgood.”
“Now?”
“Wehavethisinsanechemistry.Weird,Iknow,becausehe’sall...”Iwavemyhandsaroundinthe

airtoindicatekindandwholesome,butitdoesn’ttranslate,andAngelshakesherhead.“Anyway,we
decidedtohaveashort-termthinguntilIgotoschool.”

Hersmooth,brownbrowfurrows.“Can’timagineLizziewasthrilled.”

“Shewasmadatfirst,butnowshe’sokay.”
“Uh-huh.”ImpressivethatAngelmanagestokeepthatfromsoundingsarcastic.
“Okay,maybeshe’snottotallycoolwithit.ShethinksI’mgoingtogethurt.Whichistotallyannoying

because,ofcourse,she’sright.”

“Why?”
“It’shardertobecasualwithhimthanIthought.Andnowheisn’tcallingorcomingover,andI’m

realizingI’monlyapieceofasstohim.”

“Whichyoubothagreedto.”
“IfIwantedlogicIwouldhaveaskedforit.Feelmypain,bitch.”
AngelsmothersthelaughIknowshewantstoletloose.“Whydon’tyoutellhimyou’dliketoseehim

more?”

“He’llthinkI’mchangingtherules.I’mtheonewhosaidnoclinging.”
Angelleansontothetable,herexpressionserious,hersleevelessWonderWomanT-shirthighlighting

hertonedarms.Exceptshe’ssoshortshecan’tleanoverthatfar.

“Iknowyouhateputtingyourselfoutthere,butstopbeingababyandtellhimwhatyouwant.Andbe

honestwithLizziewhileyou’reatit.”

Iknowshe’sprobablyright.Abouteverything.Angelusuallyis.ButI’malsoterribleatfollowing

advice.

“Whataboutyou?Whysosecretiveaboutthisguyyou’reinterestedin?”
Shesmilesandleansback,throwingherthickblackhairoveroneshoulder.“No,no,no.Later.You’re

goingtogobacktothebeginningandfillinthedetails.Andmakeitgood.”

Angelknowsmetoodamnwell,becauseIlovetokissandtell.

JefftextsmeasI’mwalkinghomefromclass.

Hey.How’sitgoing?

Likegangbusters.Youworkinglatetonight?

Ireply.

Hedoesn’tanswerbackforawhile.I’dliketobelievehe’sconsideringcomingover.Butprobablyhe

justgotinterrupted.

Yes.Howaboutyou?Latestudynight?

Ishouldsayno.IshouldtellhimthatI’dliketoseehim.
Unfortunately.Talktoyoutomorrow.

Agirl’sgottahaveherpride.

Chapter14:Jeff

76DaysLeft

Icheckmytexts.NothingfromSamtoday.Oryesterday.Thiscreatingdistancethingreallysucks.MaybeI
pulledbackonthereinsgently,butSamgrabbedthemandgroundustoahalt.Atleast,that’showitfeels.
Shecouldn’tcarelessthatIhaven’tcomeover.Ithoughtshe’dnoticeorcommentorasktoseeme.Iwas
wayoffbase.

IssheasunsettledasIambyhowoftenIthinkabouther?That’stheoptimisticview.It’smorelikely

she’sboredalready.Eitherway,Ican’tblameherforignoringmebecausethisarrangementofours
doesn’tgivemetherighttoblameher,ortobeupset,ortomissher.SoI’vebeenmostlyradiosilent.
Hell.

“Wannagrabsomebeersafterwork?”EliasksashelooksoversomefinancialprojectionsIjust

finished.

I’vebeenputtinginalotoflatehoursthisweekonapromisingmediastart-up,andI’mreadyfora

break.

“Maybe.”Icheckmytexts.Nothing.Obviously,Sam’snotpiningawayforme,soIneedtogetmy

headonstraight.

“Havetocheckinwiththegirlfriend?”Eliasks,hisfacemocking.
Eli’sniceenough,butsometimesheactslikehe’satwenty-one-year-oldfratboy.
“She’snotmygirlfriend.”
“Cool.Nothingtostopyoufromcomingtonight,then.”
Iglancebackdownatmyphone.Iwantedfire,andIgotit.Butinacoupleofmonths,SamandIwill

beover,soIneedtogetsomeperspective.

“Nope.Nothingtostopme.”

IwishIwasinmyjeanssittinginadivebar.Instead,there’sathree-footBuddhastatuenexttome,and
I’msurroundedbythesmellofmoney.

We’reinthebarofaswankyhotel,andthereisenoughglassandredlightinginheretomakemehave

vampirenightmaresforaweek.Aswewerewalkingintothehotel,aguypulledupfrontinaMaserati
andchuckedhiskeysatthevalet,likeatotaljerk.Ithoughtpeopleonlyactedthatwayinthemovies.I’m
gettingusedtothesetypesofplaces,andIdon’tknowifI’mproudorunnervedbythat.

IorderabeerfromsomeSiliconValleymicrobrewerythatturnsouttobefantastic,andIrelaxinto

theatmosphere.Therearealotofattractivewomenhere,butthemenarealmostequallydoneup.The
heavygroomingonBayAreaguysistakingsomegettingusedto.

“Dude,Jeffkilleditinthemeetingtoday,”ElitellsKeller,aguyIdon’tknowthatwell.Supposedly,a

fewmorepeoplefromworkwillbejoininguslater.Butfornowit’sthethreeofus.

Kellertipshisdrinkback,nevermakingeyecontactwithme.“Congrats,man.Callmewhenyou

actuallysourceawinner.”

“Don’tbeadick,”Elisays,hisNewYorkaccentbecomingmorenoticeable.

IappreciateEli’sloyalty,butI’mnotgoingtogetanywherelettinghimfightmybattles.
IleanintoKeller’sfieldofvision,sohe’sforcedtoquitstaringatthewomanacrossthebarandlook

atmeinstead.“I’llbetoobusymakingpartner.”

Kellerlaughsandraiseshisdrinkatme.“Keepthehopealive,brother.”
Hetipshisdrinkbackandfinishesitinonebigswallow.That’snotcheapliquor,becauseKelleris

expensive—thekindofguythatwearsaten-thousand-dollarwatchheneverglancesat.

“Afewofusaregoinguptomyparents’placeinTahoefortheweekend,”Kellersays.“Whydon’t

youcome?”

Elinods.“Youshould.”
“Youcanbringsomeone.Weallare.”Kellergesturesaroundthebarvaguely,leavingmetowonderif

hethinksallthesepeoplearehisfriends,orifhejustdoesn’treallycareaboutthespecifics.

“Soundsgreat.Thanks.MaybeI’llbringthegirlI’mseeing.”That’sifSamcangetenoughtimeaway

fromworkandstudying.Andwantstocome.“Youhaveagirlfriend?”IaskKeller.

“Hellno.I’maskingAndreatocome,though.”
“Fromtheoffice?”Theideaofthetwoofthemdoesn’tsitwellwithmeforsomereason.Keller

seemslikethetypeofguythat’shadthingscomeeasilytohim—includingwomen.Butit’snotmyplaceto
worryaboutAndrea.

“Don’tshitwhereyoueat,dude,”Elisays.“Yougetboredsoeasy,andthenyoustillhavetowork

withthem.”

“She’snotmyassistant.It’llbefine.ThatfinancechickIwasscrewingturnedouttobetooclingy,so

she’lldo.”Kellerholdstwofingersupintheairtosignalthebartender.

“That’sifshesaysyes.”Itrynottosoundlikeajerk,butIfail.
Kellersmilesatme,hissmalleyesbecomingslits.“Oh,she’ssaidyesbefore.”
HelookstoElitoconfirm,andElilaughsdutifully.
IcheckmyphoneandseethatImissedatextfromSamahalfhourago.
Stillchainedtoyourdeskcutie?

It’snotaninvitetocomeover,butit’sflirtyandfun.LikeSam.Damn,Imissher,andI’msickof

pretendingIdon’t.

Thereareotherpeoplefromworkwalkingthroughthedoor,whichmeansIshouldstayawhile.I

orderanotherbeerasthechattergrowslouderandthecrowdgetsthicker.Nothingworsethanbeing
surroundedbyaseaofpeoplewhenthere’sonlyonepersonyouwanttobewith.

Chapter15:Sam

Still76DaysLeft

Marcusplopsdownnexttomeonmysofaandreachesintohisbookbag.Oncehe’sgothisgearout,he
grabstheplateofpizzaIgavehim.IthasthreehugepiecesonitdousedinSriracha.Afterastudysession
withMarcus,myfridgeisusuallyempty,andI’mnotallthatmuchwiser.ButI’msickofthelibraryand
nowayamIgoingtohisplace.Hisroommatesareslobs.

“Thanksfortheleftovers,”hesays,hismanbunjigglingasheeats.
“Don’ttheyfeedyouathome?”
“NoneoftheguysIlivewithliketoshop.Orcook.”
“Orclean.”
“Prettymuch.”Hetakesanotherhugebiteandthencracksopenhistextbook.
Wegooverthematerialfornextweek’sexam,andthenwefretaboutthemedschoolswe’veapplied

to.MarcusisjealousIgotwaitlistedatUCLA,butnowIhavetoputdepositsdownandhopelikehella
spotopensup.Mychancesareslim,atbest.

“AreyouCatholic?”IaskMarcus.
“Notpracticing,why?”
“Iwasgoingtoaskyoutolightacandleorsomethingforme.Mymomsayssheisputtinggood

thoughtsoutintotheuniverse,butIdon’tfeellikethat’salegitstrategy.”

“I’llhavemygrandmalightonenextSunday.”
“Yeah,Ineedsomeofthatabuelamojo.”
Helaughs.“Idon’tthinkitworkslikethat,butitcan’thurt.”
There’saknockonthedoor,soIjumpupandanswerit.Jeffisstandingontheotherside,thelines

aroundhiseyesgivingawayhisfatigue.Buthestilllooksreallygood.Hisdressshirtisopenatthe
collar,hisshirtsleevesarerolledup,andhe’sholdingabottleofsomething.

“Hey,”Isaywithawidesmile.
Hescansmeupanddown,hiseyessoftening.“Hi.CanIcomein?”
Inod,andhewalkspastmeintothelivingroom.WhenheseesMarcus,whohashisfeetproppedup

onmycoffeetable,hefreezes.

“Hey,man.”Marcusnodshalf-heartedly,hisflipflopbouncingupanddownashejiggleshisfoot.
JefftracksthemovementwithhiseyesandthenscansMarcus—hisslouchyhoodie,hisbead

bracelets,hispiercedbrow.

“Hi.”Jeffdoesn’tsmile.Heglancesoveratmeinstead.“LookslikeIinterrupted.Icancalllater.”
“Nah,Iwasabouttoleave.”Marcusisagoodwingman.Heshovesallhisstuffinhisbagandtakes

off—apieceofpizzahangingfromonehand.“SeeyouMonday,”hesaystomeonhiswayoutthedoor.
“Nicemeetingyou,Jeff.”

Jeffdoesn’tsayitback.
“Whowasthat?”JeffasksthesecondMarcusexits.
“Mylabpartner.”

“Ok.Youguysstudyherealot?”
Idon’tlikeJeff’stone—allparentalandtight-assed.
“Sometimes.Why?”
“Justasking.”Hesetsthebottleofpomegranateciderdownonthecoffeetablebutremainsstanding.
“Youcansitdownifyouwant.”Mytoneisedgingintoaggravatedterritory,butheignoresme.
“Whydoesthatguywearhishairinabun?”
“It’sathing.Allthekidsaredoin’it.”Oh,nowI’veheadedstraightformocking.Buthonestly,Ihave

barelyheardfromJeff,andsuddenlyhe’sactinglikeadogpissingonafirehydrant.

“Realcute.”
“Isthereareasonyoucameover?OrwouldyouratherkeepimplyingI’mfuckingMarcus?”
“Yourlanguageisterrible.”Jeffcrosseshisarmsoverhischest,sothatheresemblesapissedoff

gorilla.“Andareyou?”

“Idon’tneedalectureaboutmymanners.Andthat’snoneofyourbusiness.”
“Seriously?Wesaidweweren’tgoingtosleeparound.”
“Youknowwhat?Screwyouandyouraccusations,Jeff.Ihaven’tseenyou.I’vegottenafewlame

texts.Maybeweoughttocallitaday.”Ihatethatmyvoiceistrembling,butIdespiseJeff’sjudgmentand
indifferenceevenmore.

Heputshishandsonhiships.“Whydoyoucare?Ithoughtthat’showyouwantedit.Nostrings,

remember?You’reobviouslykeepingyourselfbusywithbunguy.”

“Studying!AndI’mnotgoingtobegyoutocomeover.”
“Beg?”Jeff’svoiceisatayell,somethingI’veneverheardbefore.“Youbarelyrespondedtomy

texts.Andyou’retheonewhotoldmenottogetattached.ButI’mnotlikeyou.”

“Meaningwhat?I’manemotionlessbitch?”
“Ineversaidthat.Nowyou’rebeingoverdramatic.”
“Saystherobot.”IknowI’mhittingbelowthebeltbeforethewordsareevenoutofmybigmouth.
Jefffinallysnaps.“I’mthefuckingrobot?”Hestepsforwardandtakesmebytheshoulders.“Then

howcomeI’mtheonlyoneworriedaboutbeingtoointoyou?HowcomeI’mtheonewhothinksabout
youallthedamntime?”

Istareathim.Hestaresatme.Neitherofuswantstomoveorbreatheorsayanything,likewe’re

standingonahighwire.SoIkisshim,yesIdo.BecausewhatchoicedoIhavewhenhe’sstandingthis
close?He’sthemagnet,I’mtheiron.

Thekissturnsraggedinahurry,andhe’spullingonmyhairlikehe’sgotsomethingtoprove.Maybe

hedoes.Heyanksmyshirtupandovermyhead,myyogapantsgosouth.Ihitthebackofthecouch,pants
stillaroundmyankles,anddown,downwego.He’sstillangry-kissingme,andit’shotashell,soIrip
thatbeautifulshirthe’swearingstraightdownthemiddle.Buttonsflyeverywhere,andhedoesthatthing
guysdowheretheyshrugeachshoulderandthentugattheirshirtcuffs.Ipulloffeverythingelsehe’s
wearing.

SweetmercifulMoses,Ilovehisbody.Ilethimknowwithmyeyesandmyhands,andfinally,he

smilesatme—ahappy,mischievoussmilethatmakesmefeelanchoredandsafeinareallyscaryway.It
ripsthetruthoutofme,likeaneyebrowwaxthatmakesyoureyeswater.

“Imissedyou,”Isay,relishingthefeelofhisbodyagainstmine.
He’spanting,shortofbreathfromourfightorfromourkissing.Eitherway,it’sawin.“Imissedyou,

too.Iwastryingtoplayitcool.”

“Wejustgotstarted.Whywouldyoudothat?”
“Don’tknow.”

“Sodon’t.”
“Okay,”hesays.Andthenhethrustsinsideme.
“Oh,”Imoan,throwingmyheadback.
“Idon’twanttowait.Idon’twantforeplay.Iwantyou,”hesays.
“Yes.”That’stheonlywordIcanmanage,soIwrapmylegsaroundhim.
Histhrustsareurgent,buthismouth,hishandsaregentle.Thecontrastmakesmecrazy,untilhegets

whathewantedallalongandIbeg.

Thegoodnewsis,he’sreducedtopleadingaswell.“Youfeelsogood”and“more”becomeour

entirevocabulary.Thewayhereachesformetellsmehe’smissedmybody;I’vemissedhis,too.How
canthatbeaftersuchashorttime?Idon’tquestionit,justquenchmythirstwithhistaste,hissmell.

Ican’tholdoutlong,andsoonI’mbitinghisshoulderastheworlddissolvesintolightning.Hisshout

echoesthroughtheroomandhispleasurelastsalong,longtime.Witnessingitgivesmeanaftershockof
bliss.

Heputshisfullweightonme,andeventhoughitpushesmedownintothecushions,Iloveit.Istroke

theridgesandplainsonhisbackashetriestoreturntohimself.Thestruggleisalittlemoredifficultthis
time,andthatmakesmeridiculouslyhappy.

Finally,heshiftstomyside,pullingoneofmylegsoverhimsowefitonthecouch.“Holyshit.”
“Yeah,”Isay,kissinghisneckandgivinghimtheshivers.
“WasItoorough?”
“No.PrettysureIwreckedyourshirt,though.”
“Don’tcare,”hesays,cuppingmyneck.“Youfeltincredible.”
I’mtoobusykissinghisshoulderandskimmingonehandoverhischesttoreply.
Hisbodygoesstillandhestopsmyhandwithhis.“Ididn’tuseacondom.”
“That’sokay.”
Buthissilencetellsmeit’snotokay.
Ileanuponmyelbow.“I’monbirthcontrol.Youknowthat.”
“Still.”
Everythinginsidemedrops—heart,stomach,spirit.Hedoesn’ttrustme.Whyshouldhe,really?We

barelyknoweachother.

Jeff’sstaringatme,soItrytoputmygamefaceontogetthisoverwith.ButIhavenogameface.
Hetiltsmychinupwithhisfinger.“It’snotyou,”hesays.“Iknowit’ssafeandthatyou’reusing

protection.ButIliketobereallycareful.”

“Okay.”Thatistheleastconvincing“okay”toeverbespoken,andthetensionisthickbetweenus.
Hecoilsastrandofmyhairaroundhisfinger.“Fouryearsago,Igotmygirlfriendpregnant.”
ThatissounexpectedIdon’tknowwhattosay,whichmeansIblurtoutthefirstthingthatcomesto

mind.“Youhaveakid?”

“No,”hesays,andthat’sonehellofacomplicatedword—filledwithsadness,regret,andsomuch

more.“Shelostthebabyhalfwaythroughthepregnancy.Twenty-oneweeks.”

“I’msorry.”
“Iwas,too.Ireallywas.”Hesaysthislikehe’sdeterminedformetobelieveit.“ButIwasalso

relieved.”He’sstudyingmetocheckmyreaction.

“Youweren’tready.”
“No.AndIdidn’twanttomarryLacey.WhichIwouldhave;notthatourparentswouldhavegivenus

anychoice.”

“Peopledon’tautomaticallygetmarriedbecauseofababyanymore.”

Hisjawtightens.“Iwouldhave.”
Ofcourse.That’stheworldJeffcomesfromandthekindofguyheis.
“See?I’mnottheBoyScoutyouthoughtIwas.Icanbeabastardlikeeveryoneelse.”
Ismooththewrinklebetweenhiseyes.“Whydoyousaythat?”
Jefflooksawayfromme.“Whatkindofmonsterisrelievedbythedeathoftheirownchild?”
Jeff’sbodyissorigid,Ican’thelpbutstrokehisshoulder,totrytogivehimsomecomfort.Thisis

clearlyoneofthosewoundsthathaspenetrateddeepandcreepsaroundinhissubconscious.

“That’stooharsh.Youweren’thappythebabydied.Youwererelievednottohaveyourfutureforced

onyou.That’sunderstandable.”

“WhocareswhatIwantedformyfuture?”hesays.“That’snotmoreimportantthanababy.”
“Apotentialbaby.”
Heshakeshishead.“Itdidn’tfeelthatway.Hewasaboy.Iwouldhavehadason.”
Itbecomesdifficulttoswallow.IpictureatinyJeff,headfullofblondhairwithmischievousbrown

eyes.Hischildnevermadeitthatfarthough,becauseattwenty-oneweeks,ababycan’tsurviveonits
own.Itmayhaveaheartandlungsandabrain,butitisnotviable.ButIguessthatbiologicaltruthdoesn’t
meanshitwhenyoucreatedthatheart,thoselungs,andthatbrain.

“Ifhehadbeenborn,youwouldhaveputhimfirst.You’rebeingtoohardonyourself.”
Jeff’shandrubsathisface,likehe’stryingtoscrubawaythememory.“Iwasalwayssocareful.ButI

gotsloppywiththecondomonce,sothatwasonme.”

“Blamingyourselfisn’tgoingtochangewhathappened.”
“Iknowthat.”Hepullsmecloser.“Thingis,onceIgotusedtotheidea,Istartedpreparingfora

differentfuture.ChristmasesandbirthdaypartiesandLittleLeaguegames.I’dpassbythebabyaisleata
storeandstareatthosetinydiapers,wonderingifmyhandswouldbetoobigtochangehim.Eventhough
itdidn’thappen,Iwasn’tthesameafter.Ineverfeltlikeakidagain.”

“Makessense.You’dalreadyjumpedintobeinganadult.”Inuzzlehischeekwithmine.
“I’msorryIpanicked.AndforbeinganasstoDiegothatdayyouhelpedmemovein.Hejusthita

littletooclosetohome.”Hegrabsastrandofmyhairandstartstoworryitwithhisfingers.“WhenI
apologizedtoEvaforthat,shesaidthatgriefworksinstrangeways.Theweirdthingis,Ispentsomuch
timefeelingguiltybackthen,I’mnotsureIletmyselfgettothegrievingpart.”

“Sometimesthefurtherawayyougetfromsomething,thecleareritbecomes.”
Heframesmyfacewithhishandsandlooksintomyeyes,bothofusseeingstraightdownintothecore

ofeachother.Ipullawayfirst.

Jeff’ssoeasygoingthatIdidn’tunderstandhowdeeplyhetakesthingstoheart.Howmuchhecares.

AndIshouldn’thaveassumedhe’dlostinterestjustbecausehewasn’taroundmuchthispastweek.

“Youreallydon’tneedtoworryabouttoday.”IshowhimthespotonmyarmwhereIgetmybirth

controlshots.

Hekissesmeagain,butIstarttoworryaboutsomeonewalkinginonus,sowegetourclotheson.
Icirclethelivingroomtryingtocollectbuttons.“I’lltakeyourshirtsomewheretogetthesesewnon.”
HiseyesfollowmeasIgo.“It’sworthittogettowatchyoubendovereveryfiveseconds.”
“Ishouldchargeyou.”
“Careful.Ihaveacupholderfullofquartersinmycar.”
Hisnaughtysmileismyfavorite.
Jeffrummagesaroundinthekitchenandcomesbackwithtwobowlsofcereal.
“I’msorrytonightgotsocrazy,”Isay.
“I’mnot.”Helooksatmeoverhisspoon,histussledblondhairlyingoverhiseyes,andIalmost

knockthebowloutofhishandsoIcanjumphim.

“Ireallyamworkingalot,”hesays.“ButIwanttoseemoreofyou.”
“Metoo.”Ifeelshyandawkward,whichdoesn’tsitwellonme.
Wesitandeatourcerealinsilence.Hekeepslookingoveratme,likehewantstosaysomething.
Finally,hesetshisbowldown.“SomepeoplefrommyworkaregoingtoTahoesoon.Ithinkright

aroundyourspringbreak.Wanttocomewithme?”

Man,heknowshowtogofromzerotosixtyinaheartbeat.Myparentsalwaysexpectedmetoroll

withanythingandeverything.Igotalittlestubbornaboutestablishingmyboundariesasaresult.Jeffputs
histoesrightoverthoselinesI’vedrawnaroundmyself.ScaryhowmuchIwanthimto.

“Fortheweekend?”
“Yep.Canyougettimeofffromthehospital?”
“MyrotationwithDr.Leeisalmostover,andIdon’tthinkI’mgoingtoworkatthehospitalafterthat.

Itwillgivememoretimetofinishstuffup.”

“Andtodomorewithme.”
IpuckermylipslikeI’mthinking.“Maybe.”
“Maybe,myass.”
Hekissesmetounderscorethepoint.Asthekissturnshotter,Isilencetheinternalclocktickingdown

thedaysofourninety-daydeal.

WoulditreallyhurttokeepseeinghimoverthesummeruntilImoved?Yes,becauseIsureashell

don’tthinkIcandriveawaywithhimstandingtherewatchingme.TherewasareasonItoldJeffno
extensions,andI’mnotsecond-guessingmyselfnow.

Buttonight,he’sherewithme.“Wannastayover?Lizzie’satJude’splace.”
“Iworkinthemorning.”
Icurlmymouthintoasuggestivesmile,andthenrunmyhanduphisthigh—niceandslow.
“Well,ifyouputitlikethat,”hesays,hisvoicedeeper.
Ispendtherestofthenightinhisarms.

Chapter16:Jeff

64DaysLeft

IheadoutearlytopickupSamforourweekendaway.I’vegassedupthecar,madesuretheoilistopped
up,andmappedoutdirectionstoKeller’sTahoecabin.Well,hisparents’cabin.

Mycoworkersandtheirsignificantothersarealreadyheadedthere.Istilldon’tknowifKelleris

bringingAndrea,butIhopenotforhersake.He’snotthetypetostaycommittedtoanyone.Butthenagain,
maybeI’mwrongandAndrea’snotlookingforthat,either.

AsifIhaveanyrighttoanopinionwhenmysituationwithSamisjustasmurky.
It’sbeenagoodcoupleofweeks,though.ThefightSamandIhadatherplaceclearedtheair,and

we’vebeenspendingalotoftimetogether.She’sbeentakingmearoundtheBayAreatoseesomeofthe
placesI’veheardabout.Lastweekend,IbookedahotelroominSanFrancisco;Samplayedtourguide
duringtheday,butatnightweneverleftourroom.

ThereislaughterandteasingandfunwithSam.Andheat.Butwealsoargueafairamount.Guess

that’stobeexpectedgivenhowdifferentourbackgroundsare—howdifferentweare.Havetosay,
though,I’mconfusedaboutourrelationship.Thisisn’tacasualhookupforeitherofus,butit’snota
commitmenteither.Sowhatarewetoeachother?It’sallnewterritoryforme.

Lizzieopensthedoor,lookingsleepy.Samisbehindher,rushingbackandforth.
“She’salmostready.Fairwarning;shereallyhatesbeingupthisearly.”
“Ineverhaveanyproblemgettingheractiveinthemorning,”Isaywithasmile.
“Gross.It’stooearlytolistentoyou.”Lizziestartstoheadbacktoherroom.
“Wait.”Ilaugh.“YoustilltakingJudehomethisweek?”
Lizzierunsherhandsthroughherhair,rubbingatherscalp.“Yes.AndIhadanightmareaboutitlast

night.”

“Well,goodluck.Don’tletthemgiveyouanycrap.Andsay‘hi’forme.”
Shesticksouthertongueatme.“Haveagoodtime,drivesafe,textwhenyougetthere.”She

disappearsintoherroomandshutsthedoor.

Samrunsuptomeandkissesmeonthecheek.“Okay,IthinkI’vegoteverything.”
Sheonlyhasonebag,whichsortofsurprisesme.Mylasttwogirlfriendsnevertraveledlight.
“I’mimpressed,”Isay,pointingtoherluggage.
“Weusedtocampalot,soIknowhowtopack.Plus,Iplantowearaslittleaspossibleatnight.”She

shootsmeasaucysmileandclosesthedoorbehindus.

It’sstillearlyenoughthattheskyistingedpink.Oncewe’reontheroad,Iselectaplaylist.
“Here’sacrucialcompatibilitytest:Whatmusicdoyouwanttolistentoonthedriveup?”
“Ilikethatyouasked,”shesays,givingmeoneofhergenuinesmiles.Whenwestopataredlight,I

lookherover.Sheishappyandrelaxed,nomakeuponherface,hairinaponytail.She’salwaysbeautiful,
butrightnowshelookspretty.Soft.IleanoverandkissherbecauseIcan’thelpmyself.

Itugonherponytail.“I’mgoingtocomecleanrightnowandadmitIlikecountrymusic.”
“Uh-uh.Igettoomuchofthatalreadyfromyoursister.HowaboutIdragyouintothemoderneraand

playsomehiphop?”

Sheleansoverandchangesthemusic.
“You’rekindofabrat,youknowthat?”
“Onlychild,”shesayswithalopsidedgrin.
Iguessitdoesn’tmatter;it’spurelyabackdropforourconversation.
WhenItrytoexplainwhatIactuallydoforaliving,though,Igetablankstareinreturn.
“DidIloseyou?”
“No.Igetit.You’relookingforcompaniesthatareworthinvestingin,”shesays.“Ihavenoideawhy

thatinterestsyou,butit’sexcitingwhenyoudescribeit.You’repassionateaboutit,whichiscool.How
didyouevengetintofinance?”

“Iknowit’sweird,becausemyfamilyisbluecollarthroughandthrough.Highschoolwasthefirst

timeIsawwealth.GuessIwantedtounderstandwhysomepeoplehadsomuchwhilesomehadsolittle.I
gotreallyinterestedineconomics,business,allthatstuff.NowIgettoseehowideasbecomereality,
createjobs,changecultures.”

“Notalwaysinpositiveways,”shesays.
“No.Butnothingisallpositiveorallnegative,andyoucanonlydobusinessbetterifyouunderstand

howitworksandchangeit.Sortoflikewhyyouchosemedicine.”

Thatmakeshersmile.
“HowhaveyoulivedinSiliconValleyyourwholelifeandneverlearnedanythingaboutthis?”
“Numberone,Igrewupoverthehillfromthevalley.Numbertwo,you’dneedtomeetmyparentsto

gettheanswertothatquestion.NotthatI’msayingyouhavetomeetthem,”shesaysquickly.

“I’dliketo.”Idon’tbotherworryingabouthowthatsounds.Whatthehell.“You’vepaintedareal

pictureinmymind,andIneedtoseeiftheyliveuptothehype.”

Shelaughs.“Fine.Butfairwarning:It’sgoingtogetstrange.”
Shekicksoffherflip-flopsandputsherbarefeetuponmydashboard.“What’sthiscarofyoursget—

six,sevenmilespergallon?”

“Judgemuch?Anddon’ttalkcrapabouttheSUV.”
“Youplanningoncartingaroundasmallvillage?Whydoyouneedsomuchroom?”
“Amanneedshisspace.”
Sherollshereyes.
“Yourlittleforeigncarcouldn’tevenmakeitoveramountain.Thatthing’satincan.”
Hercheeksdimpleasshefrowns.“Itdoesfine.Sortof.”
“Uh-huh.IdoubtI’devenfitinit.”
Shecatchesmelookingathertoes,whichshewiggles.
“Doesthisbotheryou?”Shewigglesthemharder.Forsomereasonshelovestorilemeup,andIhave

nointentionofindulgingher.

“Notatall.Yourfeetarecute.”
Shelaughs.“You’resuchabadliar.YoutotallyhatethatIhavethemuphere.Wantmetotakethem

down?”

I’vedecidednottotakehertauntingasachallenge,butmoreasatest.She’stryingtogaugehowrigid

Iam,howfarshecanpushme.I’malotlessanalthanshethinksIam,though.Ionlywanthertotakethem
downbecausethey’returningmeon.

“They’refinewheretheyare.”
Shetapsherfootalongtothemusic,andwesitalonewithourthoughtsforawhile.
“How’sLizziedealingwithRyancomingbackthissummer?”Iask.“Thatwholesituationisweird.”

“Youshouldprobablyaskheryourself.”
“Idid,butshesaidshe’sfinewithit.AndIdon’tbelieveher.”
Sheholdsherhandoutthewindowtofeeltheair.
“Yeah,she’ssayingthesamethingtome.Jude’sprettydetermined,though.Hereallywantsherto

movein,andIthinkshewill.”

Ifrown.“Itmakesmenervous.IlikeJude,buthe’sso...”
“Intense?”
“Exactly.”
“Lizzie’sabiggirl.Ihadmydoubtstoo,atfirst.Buthereallylovesher.”
“Iknowhedoes.Butthatisn’talwaysenough.”
“True.Butshe’llbeokay.She’stough,”shesays,lookingatme.
“DoyouthinkI’mbeingoverbearingagain?”
“No,Ithinkyou’reaverygoodbigbrother.”
She’slookingatmeapprovingly,withahintofmischiefinhereyes,andIwanttopullthecaroverto

asecludedspot.FantasizingaboutallthethingsIcoulddotoherinthisSUVgetsmeallthewayto
Sacramento.

ThehighwayisflankedbyhugebouldersandtoweringtreesaswegetclosetoLakeTahoe’snorthshore.
It’snicetobesurroundedbynature;makesmefeelathome.

Eventually,wepassrusticlodgesthatlooklikechaletsandsmallstorescateringtotouristsandskiers.

AndthenwearriveatKeller’splaceandSam’sfacebecomesanimated,hereyesblinkingfaster,her
mouthdroppingopen.

“Thisisn’tacabin;it’safuckinghotel.”
Ihavetoagree.Keller’sparents’getawayiseasilytenthousandsquarefeetonwhatlookslikeafew

acresofproperty.Myparents’housecouldfitinsidefivetimes.It’sconstructedinnaturalpineandstone
tomakeitlookquaintdespiteitsenormousness.

KellercomesoutsidewearingTop-Siderswithnosocks,pinkChubbies,andawhitepoloshirt.His

sunglassesareaviators,hishairgelledtoperfection.Everythingonhimhasatastefulbutexpensivelogo,
andhegivestheimpressionthathesteppedoffayachtfilledwithsupermodels.Heimmediatelyscans
Samupanddown.Iwanttolikethisguy,buthemakesitsodifficult.

Kellershakesmyhand.“Heyman,gladyoufoundit.”
“Hardtomissit,”Isay,butwithasmile.“ThisisSam.Sam,Keller.”
“Nicetomeetyou,”Kellersays,shakingSam’shandalittletoolong.
“Thanksforinvitingus.”Shesoundsalittlenervous,whichsurprisesme.MaybeSam’snotanymore

comfortablewithallofthisthanIam.

Kellershowsusaroundthehouse,whichislikeanidealizedversionofarusticcabin—including

twenty-foot-highglasswindowsthatmakeyoufeelsurroundedbythewoods.Exceptmostcabinsdon’t
comewithagrandpiano.Itis,withoutadoubt,ahelluvaplace.Ituneouthowmuchthefurniturealone
musthavecostandenjoyit.

Kellertakesusupandshowsusourbedroom—oneoftheseveninthishouse.Twoothercouples

besidesKellerhavealreadyclaimedtheirrooms,sothatmakeseightofusinall.

“Holyshit,”Samsaysclosingthedoor.“Thisplacehasprobablybeenfeaturedinamagazine.”
“Nodoubt.”Imoveourbagstotheclosetwhileshetakesatouroftheroom.Thereisabeautiful

stonefireplacethatshe’seagertotryout,andanattachedbathroomwithahugetubthatIwanttogether

inlater.

Shekicksoffhershoesandflopsonthebed.“Doweneedtogetdownstairsrightnow?”
“Wecanrestforawhile.”IlaydownnexttoSamandplacemyhandonherstomach.“Orwhatever.”
Sheleansoverandkissesme,anditfeelswarmandcozyonthisbigbed,withitsfluffydown

comforter.Asthingsstarttoturnserious,there’saknockonthedoor.

“Hey,”Kellersaysfromtheotherside.“Letmeintroduceyouguystoeveryoneelse.”
“Everyoneelse”includesEliandhisdate,Rebecca.She’sbuiltlikeagymnast,whichmakeshera

goodmatchforEli’sshort,stockyframe.Theirrelationshipdoesn’tseemallthatcasualeither,judgingby
thewayElikeepsonehandonherhipatalltimes,likehedoesn’twanttolosetrackofher.

Rajivandhisgirlfriend,Alyssa,arehere,too.Idon’tknowRajivwell,butwe’veworkedonone

projecttogether,andhe’sasmartguy.HeandAlyssaseemtightwithKeller—tradinginsidejokestherest
ofusdon’tunderstand—sotheymusthangoutoutsideofwork.

IstarttowonderwhetherKellercamealonewhenAndreawalksin.InherjeansandT-shirt,shelooks

youngerthanshedoesatwork.Kellerpullsherintohissideandslideshishandtoherass.Idon’thide
mysurpriseallthatwell.

“YouknowAndrea,obviously,sincethetwoofyouarebuddies.”Keller’ssmirkisproprietaryand

slick.

“Andrea,thisisSam,”Isay,asAndreapastesonapolitesmile.
SheandSamexchangepleasantries,butIdon’tthinkit’smyimaginationthatAndreaissizingSamup

visuallyandmentally.Samseemstobedoingthesame,obviouslypickinguponthecompetitivevibe
Kelleristryingtomanufacture.

“Willyoushowusaroundtheproperty?”Samasks,cuttingthetension.
Wefileoutside,Kellerinthelead.WewalkpastahugepoolandJacuzzitoamanicuredgarden.

Beyondthatisthetreeline.

“Didyourmomchoosetheseflowers?They’repretty.”Samtouchesapurplelavenderpetal.
Kellershrugs.“No,buthergardenerdid.”
Andreascansthegrounds.“Thisisagreatplace.Didyoucomehereasakid?”
“Sometimes.It’sbetterinthesnow,”Kellersays.“Butspring’sokay,too.”
Rajivcatchesuptous.“Westillgoingraftingtomorrow?”
“Damnstraight,”Kellersays,andthenturnstome.“You’recoming,right?”
IlookatSamtogaugeherinterest.
Shesmiles,butit’sanervousone.“I’mmoreofalandmammal,butI’mgameifyouare.”
“You’llbefine,”Kellersays,notbotheringtolookather.
Sam’seyesdarttoKeller,butshedoesn’tsayanything.Sheisonherbestbehavior—probably

becausewe’reherewithpeopleIworkwith.Iappreciatetheeffort,butIkindofmissherfeistierside.

Idecidetotaketheleadabit.“Sure,thatwouldbefun.I’vebeenafewtimes,andI’llmakesurewe

takeiteasy.”

IsqueezeSam’shandforreassurance.Andreafollowsthegesturewithhereyes.
“Alright,Grandpa,youcandothebunnyrapids.I’llbeinthebigkids’raft.”Kellerlaughsathisjoke

—abooming,animalisticsoundthatheprobablythinksmakeshimthelifeoftheparty.

UsedtobethatIfoundwomen’sfriendshipsbizarre.Nooneismorecriticalofawomanthanherbest

femalefriends.Butmenareequallystupid,becauseweliketogiveeachothershitconstantlyandinsult
eachother’smanliness.Someguysdothismorethanothers,though,anddon’tknowwheretodrawthe
line.Kellerisdefinitelyoneofthose.He’sthekidthatbulliedsomeoneonetoomanytimesandgot
punchedintheface,theguythatwentalittletoofarwiththefratjokesincollege,andnowthemanthat

pissestoohardonhisterritory.ButKellerhasmoney,sohe’llprobablyskatebyjustfinewiththat
attitude.Maybeitevenhelpsinhisworld.AllIknowisthat,ifKellerwereafriendandnotawork
colleague,Iwouldhavealreadyknockedhimonhisass.

Eventually,weheadbacktothehouse,whereRajivandAlyssaannouncethattheyboughtgroceries

onthewayupandaremakingdinner:curry,andsomethingcalleddal,whichI’veneverhad.

“Ooh,Iwanttolearnhowtomakethat,”Samsays.
“Goforit.I’lljusthangout.”Igiveherakissandshedisappearsintothekitchen.
“Holycrap,thatoven!”Ihearhersay,whichmakesmesmile.There’smygirl.
Thatthoughtbringsmeupshort.
Idon’thavemuchtimetoponderitthough,becauseAndreasitsdownnexttome.Everyoneelseis

eitherstilloutsideorinthekitchenwithRajiv,soit’sonlythetwoofus.Itrynottosquirmorscooch
overbecauseIknowthebrownleatherI’msittingonwillsqueakunderneathmeandechooffthesehigh
ceilings.It’slikeafreakingcathedralinhere.

“Samseemsnice,”Andreasays.
“Sheis.”
“Younevertoldmeyouhadagirlfriend.”
Iadmirethatshe’scuttingtothechasemorequicklythanIexpected.Oritcouldbethebigemptywine

glassshe’sholdingthat’sdoingthetalking.

Andreatriestosmile,butherlipsremaintenseandclosed.“YoumusthavethoughtIwasanidiot

bringingyousomanydonuts.”Sheputsherhandonherforehead,likeshe’scheckingherselfforafever.I
don’tthinkshemeanttobethathonest.

“Notatall.Thatwassweet.I’msorryifImadeitseemlike...”Mygutisclenching,mydiscomfort

ishigh.Ialmostwelcomethefamiliarityofthisguilt.Almost.

Icheckbehindmetomakesurewe’restillalone.
Andreashakesherhead.“No.Ofcourseyou’dhaveagirlfriend.Ishouldhaveassumed.”Herfaceis

turningpink.

“Ihaven’tbeendatingSamthatlong.She’snotmygirlfriend...we’re...wellit’scomplicated.”

AndwhyI’mexplainingthis,Ihavenoidea.IwishIhadanejectorseatthatwouldvaultmeoutthe
window.

“Itdoesn’tlookthatcomplicated,”shesays.
Then,theairshiftsbehindme,Isensesomeonestandingthere,andIprayit’snotwhoIthinkitis.
“Iwascomingtotellyoudinnerwon’tbetoolong,”Samsaysvery,veryquietly.
Iturntosmileather.“Great.IsthatcinnamonIsmell?”
“I’mgoingtogohelpRajiv,”shesays,steppingbackward.HerexitissohastyI’msurprisedit

doesn’tleaveaskidmark.

“I’msorry,”AndreasayswhenSamisgone.“Weupsether.”
“I’llexplain.It’llbefine.”Ihope.
Andreatugsatthebottomofhersweaterandnodsherhead.Sheseemsyounginthismoment,

probablybecauseshe’sfeelingawkward—likeIam.

“WhyKeller?”Iblurtout,asifIhaven’tdugmyselfintoadeepenoughholealready.Irealizetoolate

thatAndreamightreadmoreintomyquestionthanImeantherto.Myconcernforherisoutoffriendship,
notinterest.Badhabitofmine,towanttofixeverythingforeveryone.

Sheshrugs.“Can’talwaysgetwhowewant.Andhepursuedme.Itseemedlikeitcouldbefun.”
“Ah.Fairenough.”Iglancetowardthekitchen.“IbettergotalktoSam.”
IleaveAndreaonthecouch,knowingsheandIoversteppedourselvesinthatconversation.Which

makesmewonderhowmuchexplainingandgrovelingI’llneedtodotonightwhenSamandIarealone.

Chapter17:Sam

Still64DaysLeft

ItrynottostareatAndreaassheeats,butIcan’thelpit.Shetakessmall,daintybitesthatleaveherface
pristine.Herforkneverclanksagainsttheplate,shedoesn’tspillanythingonthetablecloth.Shedoesn’t
laughtooloudly,ormakeanyasinineremarks.Shedoesn’tevenrollhereyeswhenherdipshitofa
boyfriendmakeshishundredthbraggyremarkofthenight.Ofcoursenot.SometimesIwonderifthere’sa
secretschoolforrichgirlsthatteachesthisshit.

Mythoughtsaresobitter,andsoobnoxious,thatIactuallyhavetolaughoutloudatmyself.It’snot

Andrea’sfaultthatshe’sperfectforJeff.He’dswiperightonherprofile,forsure.Butthenagainhecame
lookingforme,somaybehedoesn’tagree.Afterall,westarteddatingafterhemether.

Jeffsmilesatmeagain,likehe’stryingtomakeupwithmetelepathically.ToobadI’mnotonetogo

quietly.Ithinkwe’regoingtoneedagoodold-fashionedball-bustingfighttogetthisonesmoothedover.
WhydidhegooutofhiswaytotellAndreaI’mnothisgirlfriend?Ishekeepingheronthebackburner
forafterIleave?That’sdoesn’tseemlikeJeff’sMO;he’snothingifnothonest—blunt,even.Andhe
didn’tsayanythinguntrue.I’mnothisgirlfriend,andIprobablydon’thaveanyrighttofeelpossessiveor
jealous.

Funnyhowthatdoesn’tmatteronefrickin’bit.
Iputmyhandonhis,andhelooksdowninsurpriseandgivesitasqueeze.Imaybemadathim,butI

stillwanttotouchhim.

Later,Imouthtohim,andhenods.
“Sowhileyouweremakingdinner,Iwasdowninthewinecellar,”Kellerannouncestothetable.

“Wecanheadintothegameroomafterthisandgetshitfaced.”

“I’mwatchingDieHard,”Elisays.“Keller’sTVisseventy-fiveinches.”
Someone’scompensatingforsomething.
IwanttoleanoverandwhisperthistoJeff,butI’mnottotallysurehowhefeelsaboutKeller.IthinkI

sensedirritationearlier,buttheydoworktogether.SoIjudgementallyinstead.Because,seriously,
Keller’segoisbiggerthanthatTV.

Oncewe’resettledinthegameroom,Elistartsthemovie,whichisold-schoolactionatitsbest.I

shoveanotherhandfulofpopcorninasIwatchBrucewalkbarefootonglass.

“Ahh.No,no,no!”Eli’sgirlfriend,Rebecca,says,coveringhereyes.
“Nice.You’veneverseenthis.”Ihandherthepopcorn.
“No.It’skindofterrible.”
“Andawesome,right?”Elisays.HetriestobeabrolikeKeller,buthedoesn’tseemtohaveajaded

boneinhisbody.HepraisedRajiv’sdinnerfortenminutesstraight,healmosthuggedthisTV,andhe
lookedatmelikeMotherTeresawhenImadethepopcorn.Eliappreciatesthesimplethings,andthat
usuallysaysgoodthingsaboutsomeone.

EliturnsandsmilesatRebeccaashedipshishandinthepopcornbowl.JeffsaidElidoesn’tdo

relationships,butI’mguessingthat’sallmaleposturingcrap,becauseEli’slookingatRebeccalikehe’d

givehislefttesticleforhertobehisgirlfriend.

“ComegetashotofPatrón,”Kellershoutsfromthepooltableontheothersideoftheroom.Andyes,

theroomisthatbigthatraisinghisvoiceisrequired.BesidesthepooltableandthisabsurdTV,there’s
anotherTVdevotedtogamesystems—plural.There’salsoaminibarinthecorner,afoosballtable,anda
chesssetthatlookssuspiciouslylikerealmarble.

Eligetsupandpausesthemovie.“I’llgograbsomeforus.”
“I’mokay,”Isay.
Jeffholdsuphisbeer.“Metoo.”
“Seriously?”Kelleryellsaminutelater.“Whyaren’tyoutwodrinking?”
Hereitcomes.ThatlovelymomentwhenItellsomeoneIdon’tdrink,andtheylookatmelikeI’m

crazy.ThentheyassumeI’manalcoholic—becausetherecouldbenootherrationalreasonintheirminds
—andIeitherdecidetoletthembelievethat,totellthemahalftruth,or,Godforbid,totellthemthestory
aboutmyunclegettingkilledbyadrunkdriver.Thatalwayslivensuptheparty.Really,whatIwanttotell
themisthatpeopledoandsaystupid,stupidthingswhentheydrink,andIdon’twanttobeastupid
person.

Instead,Jeffspeaksfirst.“Whatdoyoucare?”
“Ididn’tbustopenthegoodstufffornoreason,”Kellersays,crossingtheroom.
“Moreforyou.”Jeffsaluteswithhisbottle.
ButKellerisn’tsatisfied.“Whothefuckdrinksbeer?Don’tbeapussy,Price.”
Mytoleranceforbullshitisn’thighonthebestofdays;withthisguy,it’satanall-timelow.Still,I

knowenoughguycodetounderstandthatJeffwouldnotappreciatemejumpinginatthispoint.

“Areyoudonecrying?Wehaveamovietowatch,”Jeffsays.
“Whataboutyourgirl?Shemightwantashotevenifyoucan’thandleit.”
Ishakemyhead.“I’mgood.Idon’tdrink,actually.”
Keller’seyebrowsarchskyhigh.“Wow.Youtwofuckingdeserveeachother.”Heshootsbackhis

tequilaliketheclichédovergrownfratboyheis.Hispointynoseisred,sohe’sprobablyknockedbacka
fewalready.“Enjoythemovie.AndmyTV.”

Andthedemoninsideme—sheslipsrightonout,withoutmethinkingorbeingawareofherpresence.

ShedoesthatsometimeswhenI’mnotpayingherenoughattention.“Oh,IamenjoyingtheTV.It’sso
Fahrenheit451.”

“Igetthatreference.I’mnotanidiot,”Kellersays.
Iwinkathim.“Thatgoeswithoutsaying.”Shit,shit.Begone,demon!Idon’tlookoveratJeffincase

he’sgettingmadatme.

“Thatchickhasquitethemouthonher,”KellersaystoRajiv,becauseaguylikehimprobablythinks

arguingwithawomanisbeneathhim.“IthoughtAsiangirlsweresupposedtobeshy.”

“Youobviouslydon’tknowalotofAsiangirls,”Rajivsays,tryingtodeflectthecomment.
Theroomisnoticeablystillandsilent.Andreaishidinginthecornerlikethemousethatsheis.

PeoplemaynotbefondofguyslikeKeller,buttheyusuallydon’tstanduptothem,either.

IriskaglanceatJeff.Oh,he’smad,butnotatme.Hisjawislocked,hishandisgrippingmyarm,and

IknowheisabouttogetupandpunchKellerinthemouth.I’mcertainofit.BecauseeventhoughJeffis
mild-manneredandkind,eventhoughhelooksgoodinasuitanduseswordslike“scalability,”athearthe
isaUtahboywhodrivesatruckandknowshowtouseagun.Whichishot.Probablyaninappropriate
thoughtrightnow.

IgotJeffintothisclusterinthefirstplace,soIshouldgetusoutofit.
Imusterallmyself-restraintandstandup.“We’regettingupearlyforraftingtomorrow,soIthinkwe

shouldcallitanight.”

Jeffisstandingnow,too,movingclosertoKeller.“Youoweheranapologyforthatcomment.”
Kellerlaughs.“What,shecan’ttakeajoke?”
“Thatwasyoubeingracist.Itwasn’tajoke.”
KellerleansintowardJeff.Heissonotworthwastingbreath—orpunches—on,soIdragJeffoutof

theroomasEliandRebeccathrowusconcernedlooks.AsweleaveandKellerreturnstothepooltable,
everyonerelaxesabit.AsthoughJeffandIaretheproblem,andourabsencewillreturneverythingto
normal.

Fantastic.

InsteadoftakingJeffupstairs,Ileadhimoutside.

“Let’stakeawalk.”Idon’tletgoofhishand,whichiswarmandsubstantialwrappedaroundmine.
Jeffshakeshishead.“I’msorry...”
“No.Don’tapologizeforhim.He’stheass,notyou.”
“Whydidyoudragmeout,then?”Jeffletsgoofmyhandandslingshisarmaroundme.Evenbetter.
“Youwouldhavegotteninafight,andyouworktogether.”
Jeffletsoutabreath.“Would’vebeenworthit.”
“Notinthelongrun.Plus,wouldhittinghimhavemademefeelbetter,oryou?”
Heblowsoutabreath.“Definitelyme.”
“Andthisisn’taboutyou.”
Jeffstopsinhistracks.“Damn.I’msorry.Ishouldhavehandledthatbetter.”
“I’mokay.Really.Idon’tneedyoutofightmybattles,andI’mnotgoingtoletonedrunkidiotruinour

night.”

Wewalkwaypastthehousetothetreeline,butnotbeyond.Eventhoughit’sspring,it’scoldhereat

night,andIdon’thaveaflashlighttoguideourway.Beingnearthetreesisenough,though;theirneedles
heavywiththescentofChristmasastheycrunchundermyfeet.Iletthecold,cleanairfillmylungs,then
breatheoutslowly.

“Sometimesitfeelsgoodnottobeahothead,”Isay.“Myparentshavebeentellingmethatforyears.”
Jefflaughs.“Ihavetheoppositeproblem.Mostpeoplecan’ttellwhenI’mfeelinganything.”
“Ican,”Isay,enjoyingthepuffsofairthatcomeoutofourmouthsaswetalk.
“Yes,youcan.”Heleansdownandkissesme,hisnosecoldagainstmine.Ourlipsfeelcoldtoo,but

theywarmupquickly.“ButthenIseemtofeelalotmorearoundyou.”

Myheartthuds,butIignoreit.
“Kellersavedyourass,youknow.”
Jeff’seyeswiden.“Howso?”
“BecauseIhaven’tforgottenaboutyourlittleconversationwithAndrea,butnowI’mnotpissed

anymore.”

“I’msorry.Ishouldn’thavebeentalkingtoheraboutus.”
“No,youshouldn’thave.”
“Iwasn’ttryingtodownplayyouandme.Shecaughtmeoffguard,andIdon’tknowhowtodescribe

whatwe’redoinghere.”

“NeitherdoI.”Myvoiceisquiet,soJeffleansdowntohearme.“That’swhyI’mnotangry.I’mthe

onewhosaidnostrings.”

Jeffplaceshishandsonmycheeks.“Yeah.Noattachments.GoodthingIdon’tfeelattached.”His

voiceishusky—hishandsarestrong.

“Meneither...”butmywordsareswallowedbyhismouth,andI’mkissingthehelloutofhim.
“Andreawantsyou,”Iwhisperagainsthislips.
“Idon’twanther.I’mtoobusywantingyou.”
Well,damn.Nowaytooverlookmyracingheartnow.

Icutabreak,andtheTahoeRiveristoodrytodoanyrafting.LakeTahoeisalsoreallylow,whichis
kindoffreakygivenhowdeepitusuallyis,soweditchourplansandheadtoRenoinstead.It’snotlike
I’mhappythatCaliforniaisperpetuallyinadrought.ButwhenI’minthewater,Ithrasharound
awkwardlyuntilsomeonetakespityonmeandpullsmeout.I’mgreatonland,though.Andintheair.You
needahikingorbungee-jumpingpartner,I’myourgo-togirl.

KellerwantstohirealimototakeusalltoReno,becausehedoesn’tplanonstayingsober.“Itshould

onlybeacoupleofhundredbuckspercouple,”hesays,asthoughit’spennies.Which,Iguess,tohimitis.

RajivandJeffvolunteertodriveinstead.
“Ohthat’sright,you’vegottheperfectdesignateddriver,”Kellersays,winkingatme,likeallisnow

forgiven.ThenheputshishandsonAndrea’sassasshegetsintoRajiv’sSUV.Goodtoknowhe’skeepin’
itclassyasusual.

WepassundertheRenosign,whichproclaimsitthe“BiggestLittleCityintheWorld.”Rightnow,it

lookslikethegrubbiestlittlecityintheworld—likesomeonerodeithardandputitawaywet.Pawn
shops,run-downcasinos,andastenchofdesperationsurroundus.Butlikealotofcities,itgetsbetterat
nightwhenthelightscomeupandpeopleloosenup.

“WeshouldseethatElvisimpersonatortonight,”Isayaswewalkpastahugebillboardwithaguyin

muttonchopsonit.

Rebeccalaughs.“I’mtotallydownforthat.I’vealwayswantedtogotoone.”
“Seriously?”Elifrowns,andhisfacescruncheslikeabulldog.
“Aww,comeon,”Rebeccasays,runningherhanddownhischest.
Heshrugs,buthismouthturnsupinabigsmile.“Oh,alright.”
Yeah,Eliisagoner.
Jeffraisesaneyebrowatme.“Andyetyouwon’tlistentomycountryplaylist?”
“Thisiskitschyonpurpose.”
Jefflaughs.“Ouch.Fine,butI’mnotdressinguplikethatlater.”
Elishakeshishead.“Dude,Idon’twanttohearthat.”
ThebuffetsinRenoareofvaryingqualityandsimilarprice,sowepicktheonethatlooksthebestand

divein.Thefoodisdividedintosections:saladbar,hotfoods,meat-carvingstation,desserts.It’steeming
withpeopletakingabreakfromgamblingandfamilieslookingforabargain.

Theguyspiletheirplateshigh.Jeffeventhrowsaslabofprimeribonhis.“JustbecauseIcan,”he

says.

Igrababunchofstuff,includingambrosiasalad.Eli,Rebecca,Jeff,andIslideintoabooth,andthe

othercouplesfindseatsatvarioustables.

“Ooh,therearebabymarshmallowsinthis,”Isay,pokingthemwithmyfork.
Jeffpauses,hisforkmidwaytohismouth.“You’veneverhadambrosiasalad?”
“Noway.Marshmallowsaren’tvegan.Neitheriswhippedcream.”Ichewforaminute,lettingthe

saccharinetasteoffakecreamandcannedfruitcoatmytongue.“Manthisissosweet,it’snasty.”

Rebeccatakesabiteofcarvedturkey.“You’renotvegananymore?”

“Myparentsforceditonme.ButIencouragedMomtocheatasoftenasIcould.Iwas,like,her

enabler.Idon’teatatonofmeat,butImakeupforitindessert.”Itakeanotherbiteofthemarshmallow,
justtobesureit’sgross.Affirmative.

Evengrosseristhecasino—thestenchofcheapboozespilledandsoakedintohideouscarpets,the

chain-smokerslistlesslyplayingatthesamemachinesthey’vebeenatallnightandday.ButJeffandIstill
managetohaveablast,probablybecauseallthecoupleshavedispersedandwe’reonourown.
Normally,Ilikebeingsocial,butIfeelawkwardaroundKellerandhiscohortafterlastnight.

“Ifit’sokaywithyou,we’regoingtomeetupfordinneratasteakhouse,”Jeffsays,readingatext

fromKellerasweweavethroughthecrowdtowardtheslotmachines.

“Yeah,it’sfine.IfIbruisedthateasily,I’dbedeadbynow.”
Jeffputshishandonmyshoulder.“Heinsultedyou.Ifyoudon’twanttoseehimagain,Iunderstand.If

youwanttoleaveTahoetonight,that’sfine,too.Wecandowhateveryouwant.”

“Heisamajorasshole,butthere’susuallyoneinacrowd,soI’mnotsweatinghim.”
Jefffrowns.“Doesthathappenoften?Peopleinsultingyou?”
Ilaugh.“Notthatopenly.ButpeoplecanneverpindownexactlywhatIam,sosometimesItakecrap

forwhatevergrouptheyfeellikehatingoninthatmoment.”

“Likewhat?”
“WhenIgotscholarshipsinhighschool,peopleimplieditwasbecauseIwasAsian.Butthena

Chineseguyinmypre-medprogramsaidIgotintoCarverbecauseI’mMexican,whichI’mnot.
Basically,peopleseeamixedfaceanddon’tknowwhattodowiththemselves.”

Hecupsmyfacewithonehand.“Toobadforthem.”
“They’rejustignorant,andIdon’thavetimetoeducatethewholedamnworld.Let’sdosomemore

gamblingbeforewemeetupwitheveryone.”

Turnsout,I’mcheapwhenitcomestolosingmoney,soImakeJeffsitwithmeatthequarterslots.
HeteasesmeasIpullthebigredhandle.“Youknowthere’sabuttonyoucanpush,right?”
“Ilikedoingitthisway.It’sclassic,andIlosemoreslowly.”
Eventually,weheadtothecrapstableandgetsomeonetoteachushowtoplay—easytodobecause

thecrowdsarethinrightnow.

“Howaboutpoker?”heasksafterhewalksawayfromthetablewithafewmorechipsthanhehad

before.

Ilaugh.“Iamnotoriouslybadatpoker.Yoursisterhasalreadytakenenoughofmymoneythatway,

thankyouverymuch.Iknowwhatwe’regoingtodoinstead:CircusCircus.”

“Thekiddiecasino?”
“Uh-huh.”ItakeJeff’shandandleadhimtotheexit.Whenwestepoutside,it’smuchcooler,andIcan

finallytakeadeepbreath.WehitthepavementandwindourwaytoCircusCircus—whichyoucan’tmiss
onaccountofthegiantclownonthesign.

“Thisisallaployformetowinyouagiantstuffedanimal,isn’tit?”heasks.
“Obviously.I’vecomeherewithmyparentsacoupletimes.They’dgivemetwentybucksofquarters

andleavemewherethekids’gamesare,thenthey’dgogambleonthefirstfloor.Ilovedit.There’sa
circusactrightinthemiddleoftheroom.”

Jeffsmiles.“Ithoughtyourparentswerehippies.”
“Yes,butnotQuakers.Theystillliketohavefun.”
Webypasstheadultentertainmentandheaduptothekids’floor.Truetomyword,therearetwo

acrobatsflippingeachotherbackandforthonswings.

Jefflooksaroundandseesthearcade.“Alright,youdonegood,girl.Thisisrighteous.”

Wespendthenextcoupleofhoursontotalnonsense—spendingmorethanwewouldhaveatthe

casino.Thegamesareallriggedtomakeyoulose,butitdoesn’tmatter.EspeciallywhenImanagetobeat
Jeffatagameofairhockey.ThenIbecomeobsessedwithSkee-Ball,andsinkalotofquartersintothat.

“Youhaveenoughoftheseyet?”Jeffasks,holdingupthelonglineofpinkticketsspittingoutofthe

machine.

“Ittakes,like,eightthousandtogetastuffedanimal.”
“Icouldbuyyouastuffedanimalforatenthofthecostofthesegames.”
Ipout.“Notthepoint.Haveyounoromance?”
Thatgetsasmileoutofhim.“Alright,slugger.Comeon.I’mwinningyouthatstuffy.”
Backtothegameswego,andthistimeJeffisamanonamission.Heheadstothecamelraces,where

agroupofkidsaresittingonstools,racingplasticcamelstoaclimacticfinish.Whenthatroundisover,
Jeffsitsdown,slamstwentybucksonthecounter,andoffhegoes.Istandbehindhim,cheeringonhis
camel,whosetinyrideriswearingaredcloak.Whenhewins,Isquealandjumpupanddown,likehe’s
winningthelottery.I’msureI’membarrassinghim,buthedoesn’tsayanything.

Nomatterhowepichiswin,Jeffisdisappointedwhenthekidmanningtheboothhandshimatiny

stuffedfish.Sohesitsandplayssomemore,andfinally,afterhisthirdwin,hetradesupforthecoveted
monkeyholdingabanana—atoythatwouldhavecosthimtenbucksatatoystore.Idon’tcare.IgrabJeff
andhughim,asheliftsmeontomytoesandkissesme.

It’samomentmoresweetandlightthananyIcanremembersinceIwasakid.
“I’llwinanotheroneifyoujumpupanddownlikethatagain,”hesays.Thenhedragsmedowna

hallwayandputshislipstomine.Wekissandkiss,untilneitherofuscanbreathe.

“We’restuckinthisweirdtownwhenwecouldbebackinourroom,”hewhispersinmyear.
“Tonight.Iboughtsomethingspecialfortheoccasion.Andit’sverysmall.”
“Damn,”hebreathesintomyhair.
OnthewayoutofCircusCircus,IseealittlekidattheSkee-Ballmachinecountingherquarters.I

handherallofmytickets,andhermouthwidensintoasmile.Someofherfrontteetharemissing.This,
alongwiththepoofybunonthetopofherhead,makeheratenontheadorablescale.

“TryfortheBarbiedreamhouse,”Itellher,andshefistbumpsme.
IgotosaysomethingtoJeff,andheislookingatmestrangely—likehe’sneverseenmebefore.
“What’swrong?”
“Nothing,”hesays,butheturnsawayquickly.

Kellerbuysusalldinner,whichpissesmeoff—butalsoisarelief,becausethisplaceisexpensive.The
tabiseasilyathousanddollars.I’mallthewayontheotherendofthetablefromhim;luckyme,Imiss
mostofhissermononhowpoorpeopleareruiningtheBayArea.Later,Icanhearhimmakingabig
productionoverthecheck,sayingthatwe’rehisguestsfortheweekend.Ifthiswereanyoneelse,Iwould
assumethebest—thattheywerebeingsupergenerous.ButwithKeller,it’sapowerplayandashow.
Kellerwillalwaysneedtobethealphadog.MakesmeappreciateJeff’squietstrengthevenmore.

Moregambling,moredrinking,moreofeverything,andI’mexhausted.I’mrelievedwhenKeller

pronouncesRenoa“wayshittierVegas,”andwealldecidetogohomeinsteadofseeingElvis.

AsweheadoutoftownandgetclosertoTahoe,theroadbecomespitchblackandthetemperature

drops.We’refollowingclosebehindRajivwhensuddenlythere’saloudpop,andRajivswervestoward
theshoulder.

“Heblewatire,”Jeffsaysashepullsoverandputsonhishazards.

Weallpileouttotakealook.
“Crap,”Rajivsays,ashegrabsthesparetireandthejack.
KellerstumblesoutofRajiv’scar,leavinghisdooropen.“SomeonecallAAA.”
“Thatwilltakeawhile,”Jeffsays.“Wecanchangeitourselves.”
“Whatever,dude,”Kellersays,headingoffwithAndreaandAlyssatowaitinJeff’scar.
Rajivmakesavaliantefforttoloosenthelugnuts,buthe’sstruggling.“Thesethingsaremachine-

tightened,sothey’reabitchtogetoff.”

“Iknow,”Jeffsays.“Letmetryforaminute.”
RajivhandsJeffthecrossbar,whichhepositionssohecanusehislegstopushdownonit.He

loosensallofthem,andthenRajivjacksupthecar.Innotime,thenewtireison,andRajivistightening
thelugnuts.IfindapackofhandwipesinJeff’sglovecompartmentandofferthemtotheguys.

“Thatwasfast,”AndreasaysasshegetsbackinRajiv’scar.
Kellerrollshiseyes.“Itdoesn’ttakeageniustofixafuckingtire.”
“Didn’tseeyoudoinganything,”Andreamuttersandshutsherdoor.
Andreaseemstobehavingalotofepiphaniesonthistrip.Imaynotbehappythatshehasathingfor

Jeff,butIstillhopeshegetsthehellawayfromKellerASAP.

Keller’sdrunkennessdoesn’tgetanybetterbackathishouse.Theothershaveafewmoredrinkstoo,

buttheyonlylaughlouderandsmilemore.

“Wannagoshowmewhatyouboughtforthistrip?”Jeffwhispersinmyear.
Westarttosneakoutofthelivingroom,butElicallsouttous.“Hey,we’regoinginthehottub.Come

with.”

Theideaofwarmwateronacoldnightsoundsheavenly,soweheaduptochange.Bythetimeweget

down,everyoneelseisinalready,exceptforRajivandAlyssawhowenttotheirroom.

“Dudecan’tholdhisliquor,”Kellerslurs,hiseyesplantedfirmlyonmytitsasIclimbinthewater.
“Eyesup,”Jeffsaystohim,andhistoneisn’tplayful.
“Noharminlooking,”Kellerlaughs,atwhichpointAndreagetsoutofthehottubandwalksquickly

backintothehouse.

“What’syourproblem,man?”ThiscomesfromEli,whoI’msurprisedischallengingKellerdirectly.

ButIthinkwe’veallhadenough.

Kellerdoesn’trespond—simplyrestshisheadontheedgeofthehottubandcloseshiseyes.Rebecca

whispersintoEli’searandhesmiles.Icanonlyimaginewhatshesaid,becauseafewminuteslater,they
getoutandheadtotheirroom.

“Weshouldgo,too,”Jeffsays.
“Wecan’tleavehimherelikethis.Canyougogetsomewater?He’sgoingtogetreallydehydrated.

I’llwakehimup,andthenwe’llgethimout.”

“Yes,Doctor,”hesays,givingmeakiss.
ExceptKeller’snotasleep.
“Yourboyfriend’ssuper,”hesaystheminuteJeff’soutofsight.Hishairlooksevendarkerslicked

back,andhiseyesevenbeadierwhenhe’sdrunk.

“Yes,heis.”
“Youmustbeboredshitless.Youshouldcallmesometime.Wecouldhavefun.”
“Areyouseriousrightnow?Fuck,you’reluckyyou’redrunk.”
Hescootsclosertome,thewatersloshingaroundus.“Don’tactalluptight.You’reobviouslyahot

bitch.Whowouldn’twanttotapthatass?KindofraretoseeonanAsianchick.”Hesnakeshishandup
tomyshoulderandtugsmetowardhim.

IsmackKeller—hard—acrosstheface.Iregretitinstantly,becauseonlyanidiotletsanidiotgether

pantiesinabunch.Imean,yeah,itfeelsgoodinthemoment,whenhisheadwhipstotheside,andthe
shit-eatingsmirkhewearsismomentarilydisplaced.ButI’veneverhitanyoneinmylifeandnow
probablywasn’tthetimetostart.

“Youbitch,”hesays,grabbinghisjaw.
Ormaybehittinghimwasa-okay.
“Youtotallydeservedthat.Andfortherecord,youcanthanktheItaliansforthisass,youlittleprick.”
Ijumpoutofthehottub,awkwardly,ofcourse,butmygoalistogetthehelloutofhere.SoI’llleave

beinggracefulforsomeoneelse.

Kellertriestofollowme,butalargehandpushesdownonhisshoulder.
Jeffiscrouchingnexttohim,hiseyesablaze.“Stayinthewater.Becauseifyoucomeout,I’mgoing

toknockyouontothefuckingground.”Jeffstraightensupandtakesmyhand.“Don’ttalktoherbeforewe
leavetomorrow.Orever.”

IwrapmytoweltighteraroundmyselfandJeffleadsmebackintothehouse.Whenwegetupstairs,he

knocksonAndrea’sdoor.

Sheopensitandhereyeswideninsurprise.“Jeff?”
“Youbettermakesureyourboyfrienddoesn’tdrowninthehottub,becauseIdon’tgiveashitifhe

does.”

AndreanodsasJeffpullsmebackdownthehalltoourroom.
“Whatdidhedo?”Jeffasksonceourdoorisshut.I’mgladit’sathickwoodendoor,becauseIthink

it’sabouttogetloudupinhere.

I’mshakingfromtheadrenalineandthecold.“Hewasjustbeinghimself.Madesomenastyremarks.I

triedtoletitgo,butthenheputhishandonme...I’msorryIhithim.ImeanI’mnot,butIamforyour
sake.”

WhyisitthatwhenI’minahospitalI’mcalm,rational—sensible,even?ButinmyreallifeIcanbea

completemess.

“Areyoukiddingmerightnow?Youthinkthisisyourfault?”
“Hellno,it’snotmyfault.ButIstillshouldn’thavehithim.”
Jefftakesmebytheshoulders,andmytowelslipstothefloor.“Ifyouhadn’t,Iwouldhave.AndI’m

prettysureIhitharder.”

“Youmakeitahabittosmackdudesintheface?”
“Thisisn’tfunny.AndIhaven’thitsomeonesinceIgotinafightwithScottSimmonsintheeighth

grade.ButwhenIsawyouslaphim,Ithought...”

“I’mfine.Iswear.”Iputmyhandonhisbareshoulder.AllIcanfocusonishowwidetheyare.How

steadyheis.“ThanksfornotassumingIoverreacted.”

Jeff’shandstracedownmyarmsandIbreakoutingoosebumps.“Whatkindofguywoulddothat?”
Ishrug.“LukethoughtIwastoodramatic.Probablywhatdrovehimaway.”
Jeff’shandstightentheirgrip.“Iamsosickofthatasshole.”
“Youdon’tevenknowhim.”
“Iknowyouranintohim.Iknowhewastextingyou.AndIknowhe’sneverapologizedforbeingthe

world’sshittiestboyfriend.”

Iturnmybackonhimandcrossmyarms.Thisredbikinidoesn’tseemlikesuchagoodidearight

now,andIwishIwerewearingaone-piece.“Lizzieshouldn’thavetoldyouallthat.”

“Iworkedoutsomeofitmyself.”
“IknowLuke’sajerk.Butweweren’ttherightfit.Icouldn’tbewhatheneeded.”

Jeffputshisarmsaroundmefrombehind.“Hewasastupidboy.”Henuzzlesmyearandlowershis

voicetoasteely,deeptimber.“Andhewastooinsecureforawomanlikeyou—awomanthatoutshines
him.”

Ipulloutofhisembraceandsitonthebed.“That’snottotallytrue.Idowellinschool,but...”
Jeffpushesmeontomybackandstraddlesme.“Nobuts.Hehadnoideahowtohandleyourbrilliant,

filthymind.”Hisfingersstrokemytemples.“Nowaytodealwithyoursassy,funnymouth.”Hecaresses
mylowerlipwithhisthumb.“Andprobablynocluehowtokeepyousatisfied.”Heslidesdownand
wrapshisarmaroundmywaist,hisfacetomystomach.

Iclosemyeyesagainstthetruth,butit’sstillthere.AndsoisJeff—justholdingme—determinedto

drivethepointhome.Ishouldn’trelyonhisstrengththisway.Buthe’ssosure,soconfident,andIwant
to.

“Heneededyoutobelesssohecouldbeyourequal,”Jeffsays,movingbackupandkissingmeon

theforehead.

“Andyouwouldbedifferent?”Ohyes,hewould.Ialreadyknowthat—inmybody,myheart,my

mind,andmysoul.

“Ifyouweremine,I’dwantyoutoshinelikethesun.”Hemovesmyarmsabovemyheadandslides

hispalmsagainstmineuntilwe’regrippingfingers.There’snoescapingtheintensityofhisgaze.“If
Kellerhadhurtyou,Iwouldhavekilledhim.”

“I’mfine.Really.”
Hepullsmeintoabearhug.“Sothisisokay?”
Maybeitshouldfeelstrangebeingrestrainedinhisarms,butrightnowIneedhimclose.
ThesecondInod,hegripsmetighter.Andlikehepromised,thatmakesmesparkle—evenbrighter

thanthesun.

Jeffpromisedmehewasboring.AndIpromisedhimIwouldn’tfallforhim.Webothlied.

Chapter18:Jeff

63DaysLeft

I’mwrappedaroundSam,holdingherclose,feelingherbackalongthelengthofmyfront.Idon’twant
anythingbetweenourbodies,andthereisn’t.

ItrymentallytoobliteratetheimageofKellerwithhishandonSam’sarm,thesoundofherslapping

hisface.ButIcan’t,andIwanttogodownstairsandhurthim.I’veneverseenawomanslapamaninreal
life,norhaveIeverwantedtohitsomeonesostrongly.Thefeelingwassointenseitshockedmeand
scaredme.BecauseIcan’tpretendthatIonlyfindSamsexy,orsmart,orfascinating.WhatIfindheris
necessary.

It’snotjustthatSamiswickedsmart,butalsothatshe’stoomodesttotellmycoworkersthatshe’s

beenacceptedtomedschool.Notjustthatshe’sbeautifulandfun,butalsothatshe’skindenoughtogivea
kidherSkee-Ballticketsandresponsibleenoughtoworryabouttheidiotinthehottubdehydrating.But
mostlyit’sthatshelooksatmelikeshe’sbeenwaitingforsomeonenormalandsteadyandkindof
predictableallalong.Someonelikeme.

Mechangingthattireturnedheron.ThewayIcareformysisterturnsheron.Shehasabsolutelyno

desireforabadboy.AndyetsheunderstoodwhenIwentallalphaonKeller.SamandImakenosenseon
paper,butinreallife,wefit.

Exceptshe’sleaving.AndIcan’taskhertostay.
Istarttotumbleintosleepwhenthereisapoundingonourdoor.
“Jeff,openup.Keller’sintrouble.”There’sadefinitenoteofpanicinEli’svoice.
SamandIthrowonsomeclothesandfollowElidownstairs,whereAndreaisleaningoverKeller,

who’sspreadoutonthelivingroomfloor.

“Maybeweshouldtrytogethimtothrowup,”Andreasays,hereyeslargerthannormal.
SamgentlynudgesAndreaoutofthewayandplacesherfingersonKeller’swrist.
“He’sbreathingandhispulseisstrong.Let’sgethimoffhisback.”SamliftsKeller’sheadandIpush

hislegs,andwemanagetorollhimontohisrightside.

“Hashealreadythrownup?”SamasksAndrea,hervoicecalm,even,andconfident.
“Yes.Iwentoutsidetocheckonhimandhewasinthebushes.Whenwecameinhere,hestarted

talkingreallystrangelyandhecollapsed.”

“Okay.Eli,gogetsomewaterandablanket.”
“Won’thesleepitoff?”Iask.“Someonecanstaywithhim.”Andby“someone,”ImeanAndrea,

becauseIsureashellamnotgoingto.

Samshakesherhead.“Hefeelstoocold.Andhisbreathingisirregular.I’mgoingtotrytowakehim

up.”

“Itriedshakinghim,”Andreasays.
“Jeff,helpmesithimup,”Samsays.
Likeeveryoneelseintheroom,Idefertoher.
Elicomesinwiththewaterandathickblanket.IwranglemyarmsaroundKeller’sbarechestand

pullhimupintoasittingposition,whileSamdrapestheblanketoverthelowerhalfofhisbody.

Withoutwarning,sheslapshimacrosstheface.
“Whatthehell?”Eliyelps.
“That’stwiceinonenight,”Isay.
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”Andreaasks,frowning.
Samignoresher.“I’mgoingtoslaphimonemoretime;fairwarning.”
Andthenshehitshimagain—aquick,stingofaslapmeanttowakehim,nothurthim.
“Thisisn’tgreat,”Samsays.“Andrea,handmeaphone.Eli,helpmepulltheblanketaroundhim.And

keephiminasittingposition.”

Andreaputsherhandsonherhips.“Wait,whyareyougivingusorders?”
Samstandsup.“Getmethephoneandthenwecantalkaboutit.”
EliandIpropKellerupalongthebaseofthecouchasAndreagrabsherphoneandSamdials911.
“Hi,Ineedanambulanceforalate-twentiesmalewithacutealcoholpoisoning.He’sunresponsive

andhisbreathingisslightlyerratic.We’rekeepinghimuprightandtryingtoelevatehistemp.”Shelistens
andnods,givingthedispatcherinformationasasked,andthenshehangsup.

“They’recoming.Andrea,gogetKellerashirtandadrypairofpajamabottoms.”
SamcrouchesdownandputshereartoKeller’schest,checkinghisbreathing.“Stupidass,”she

mutters.

“Anythingelsewecando?”Elilooksaround,hiseyescomingbacktoSam.
Sheisclearlyinchargehere.AsIwaitforherinstructions,Isavorgettingtoseethissideofher

personality.AndeventhoughIknowit’sinappropriate,Ifinditverysexy.

“I’llkeepcheckinghisbreathingandpulse.Whydon’tyougooutsideanddirecttheEMTsinhere,”

SamsaystoEli.

Elilooksrelievedtogo.
Sammeetsmygaze.“What?Whyareyoulookingatmelikethat?”
“You’reprettyamazing.”
Hercheeksturntheslightestshadeofpink.Ican’tbelieveshe’sembarrassedbythecompliment.
AndreacomesinwithKeller’sclothesandhandsthemtoSam,whothrowsherhandupanddoesn’t

takethem.

“Youguyscantakeoveronthisone.”
Onlyfairsheshouldn’thavetopulloffKeller’sswimtrunks.Andreauntiesthem,butstrugglestopull

theclingyfabricdown,soIgetdownonthefloorandhelpher.

“Ugh,hepissedhimself.”Iturnmyfaceawayfromthesmell,butkeeptugging.
“You’reluckythat’sallhedid.”SamputsherfingersonKeller’snecktocheckhispulseaswepull

hisbottomsallthewayoffandre-dresshim.

BythetimetheEMTsgetthere,Kellerseemstobewarmingup.Theyloadhimuponthegurneyand

wheelhimoutinwhatseemslikeseconds.

“I’llgowithhim,”Andreasays,hertonedispleased.Idon’tblameherforbeingresentfulofhavingto

playcaretakerforKeller,butit’sniceshe’sdoingitanyway.IguessIwouldgo,too,ifIhadto.

Samtoucheshershoulder.“He’sgoingtobefine.They’lltakecareofhim.Butkeepusposted.”
Eli,Sam,andIallexhaleloudlyoncetheambulancepullsaway.
“Shouldwewakeupeveryoneandgotothehospital?”Eliasks.
Sampushesherhairbackfromherface.“Let’swaituntilAndreacalls.”
“Whydon’tyougograbsomesleep,”IsaytoEli.“I’llwakeyouuponceIhear.”
Elinods.“Idoubthe’sgoingtobeabletomakethedrivebacktoSanJosetomorrow.”

“They’llprobablyreleasehimtomorrow,buthewon’tfeelgood,”Samsays.
ElivolunteerstostayanextradayanddriveKellerhome.Strangehowbeforethistrip,Ithoughtof

EliasamilderversionofKeller.Turnsout,he’sastand-upguy.

Wedecidetofigureeverythingouttomorrow,andEliheadstobed.Oncehe’sgone,Icollapseonthe

couchandpullSamintomylap.

“Thefuckingirony,”shesays.“Butseriously,didthatjusthappen?”
“Yes.Andyoudidgreat.”
“Itwasselfishnessonmypart.IwasworriedhewouldstopbreathingandIwouldhavetogivehim

CPR.”She’sputtinguphertough-girlpersonaagain,butI’mnotbuyingit.

“No,youdidwhatneededtobedone.AndIlovedwatchingyouwork.”
Shelooksdown.“Thanks.”
“No.Imeanit.”Itiltherchinup.“Icanseeyouweremeanttodothis.You’regoingtobeincredible.”
“Shutup,”shesays.
“Makeme.”
Soshekissesme,andit’swarmandsweetlikeadesertbreeze.

Kellerlooksterriblethenextday,buthe’sfine.Hedoesn’tthankSam—doesn’tevenacknowledgeher,
really—butAndreadoes,goingsofarastohugher.OnceSamandIknowwe’renotneeded,wemakethe
drivebacktotheBayArea.

Oncewe’rehome,IwalkSamtohersuite,andsheplopsherbagnexttothedoor.
“Thanksfortheexcitingweekend,”shesayswithplentyofattitude.
“Anytime.Ireallyknowhowtoshowaladyagoodtime.”
“ToobadI’mnotalady.”Shemakesagrabformycrotchtodemonstrate.
Ipullherintomyarmsinstead.“I’msorryitwasabust.I’lltakeyousomewherebetternexttime—

justthetwoofus.”

Shestiffensinmyarms,becausewebothknowtheremaynotbeanexttime.Weonlyhaveacoupleof

monthsleftuntilshegraduates.Luckily,sheignorestheweightofwhatI’vejustsaid.

“Itwasn’tatotalloss.Asidefromtheracistremarksandthesexualharassment,Ihadfun.”
AsIleanintogiveheranotherkiss,Lizziecomesstormingoutofherroom,avisiblyangryJuderight

behindher.

“I’mnotgoingtobetheonetokickhimoutofhischildhoodhome,”sheyells.
“No.Thatwillbeme.”Jude’shandsaregesturingintheair,andhisvoiceisloud.“Andyou’rebeing

dramatic.Heprobablywantstomoveoutanyway.”

Lizziegasps.“Dramatic?Areyouseriousrightnow?Youtwohavecreatedahome.Thinkabouthow

he’llfeelseeingmelivingthere.”

Jude’svoicefallstoadangerouswhisper.“You’renotoverhim,areyou?”
Lizziegoescompletelystill,hereyestearingup.“Ican’tbelieveyousaidthat.”
“Oh,crap,”Samwhispers.
Juderunshishandsthroughhishair,hisbodydeflatinglikeaslashedtire.“Babe...”
“Don’t,”Lizziesays,runningintoherroomandslammingthedoor.
“Shit.Shit!”Judekicksthesideofthecouch.
Hestartstorunafterher,soIgrabhisarm.
“Whydon’tyoucooloffforasecond?”
“Letmego,”Judesaysthroughclenchedteeth,asheglareswheremyhandisrestraininghim.

Thedude’sfourinchestallerthanme,butI’mnotlettinggoofhim.“Youjustattackedthecouch.SoI

needtoknowyou’recalmfirst.”

Judeinhalessharplyandletsoutalongsigh.Thenhetakesanotherdeepbreath.
Iletgoofhisarm.“Better?”
“Yeah,better.”Heputsahandonmyshoulder,thenheadstoLizzie’sroom.
IbarelyknowJude,butwe’reaboutthesameage.Wecouldevenbebuddies.Excepthetreatsme

morelikeafuturebrother-in-law.Andbecausewe’realmostthesameage,I’malittlefreakedoutbythat.
Butmymainprioritynowismakingsurehe’sgoodtomysister.

“Openup,babe.Please,”Judesays,knockingsoftlyonLizzie’sdoor.
JustwhenIthinkshe’snotgoingtolethimin,Lizzieopensthedooracoupleofinches.
Judepushesthedoorwiderandtakesherfaceinhishands.“Ididn’tmeanit.Ididn’tmeanit.”
Lizzie’seyeswellup.“Thenhowcouldyousayit?Aftereverything...”
“BecauseI’veneverbeensosureaboutanything.Anditscarestheshitoutofmethatyoumightnot

feelthesameway.”Heputshisforeheadtohers.“Iwantyoutolivewithme.”

Mystomachacheswatchingthemlayitalloutthere.Theymightaswellbebleedingfromtheirchests.
SamandIscrambleoutthefrontdoortogivethemsomeprivacy.IsuspectJudehasalotofgroveling

todo.AndthatLizziewillbelivingwithhimbythesummer.

IpullSamtome,myfingerssplayedoverherhips.“Wow.Thatwas...”
Shelooksalittleshellshocked.“Yeah,noshit.”
“Loveismakingthembothcrazy.”
“Goodthingwedon’thavetoworryaboutthat,”shesays,hertonelight,buthereyeswideandher

gazeunwavering.

IthinkIcouldstareatherforever.
IrememberthewayJudeandLizziewerelookingateachotherwhensheopenedherdoor—liketheir

heartswerebreakingbecausetheycouldn’tstandtohaveanythingbetweenthem.

Swallowingbecomesdifficult.“Yeah,goodthing.”

Chapter19:Sam

56DaysLeft

“Twocarneasadaburritos,”ItellthecashieratLaVic.“Extrasauce.”

Theorangesauceislegendaryhere—ahintspicy,alittlecreamy,atondelicious.IfIhadtochoosea

waytodie,itwouldbefacedowninavatofit.

Itakeabiteofmyburrito,whichisbiggerthananewbornbaby.Lizzie’sfacelookspristineasshe

eats,whileIcanfeelsourcreamdribblingdownmychin.

Shesetsdownherburrito.“Didyouorderyourcapandgown?”
“No,I’mstillindenial.”
Ican’tbelievethatI’mgraduatingsoon.Thelastfouryearshavebeenbittersweet,butoverall,San

Josehasbeengoodtome.I’mgoingtomissthehelloutofmyfriends—especiallyLizzieandAngel.And
Jeff.

Shesmiles.“Iknow,right?Ican’tbelievewe’realmostoutofhere.”
“Youwanttocelebrateatdinnertonight,orareyougoingtoJude’s?”
Lizzietapsherfingersonthetable—one,two,three,one,two,three.“Hewantsmetostaythroughthe

weekend.Startmakinghisroommyown.”

Ikeepmymouthoccupiedbychewingslowly.
Lizziefrowns.“Iknowyouthinkit’sabadidea.”
“It’snotthat.”
“Butyou’reworried,”Lizziesays.
There’sawarningtingleatthebackofmyneck.ThisusuallymeansIneedtomonitormybigmouth

andproceedwithcaution.

“IknowyouloveJude,butIdon’tknowhowyoucantrusthim.He’sneverbeeninarelationship

before.Andallthewomenhe’sbeenwith...”

Butthenagain,whatdoIknow?IneverguessedLukewouldcheatonme,Ihaven’thadalong-term

boyfriendeversince,andnowI’mhavinganinety-dayflingwithmybestfriend’sbrother.SoI’mall
kindsofmessedupwhenitcomestotheoppositesex.

Lizziewipesherhandsonhernapkin.“Hewasn’treadybefore,andnowheis.Maybeit’sthatsimple.

I’mrealistic.Iknowthisishisfirstrealrelationship,andthatwemightnotmakeit.”Herbodyslumps,
likethewindgotsuckedoutofher.

“Doesn’tthatscaretheshitoutofyou?Openingyourselfuptothatpain?”
Shegivesmeasadsmile,almostlikeshefeelssorryforme.“What’sthealternative?Missingouton

him?EvenifI’monlyhisfirstlove,andnothislast,it’sworthit.”

Ihavetowonderifshe’llstillbesingingthistunethedayherheartgetsbroken.Iwipethatnasty

thoughtaway,andmentallycrossmyfingersthatJudewillbeallLizziehopesfor.

“It’sgoingtohappenforyousomeday,”shesays,hergreeneyesfilledwithunderstanding.“Youcan’t

fightfallinginloveforever.JustbecauseLukehurtyoudoesn’tmeaneverymanwill.”Lizziewon’tdrop
mygaze.“Maybeyou’realreadythere.Iseethewayyoulookathim.”

Jeff.
LizzieandIhavebeensogood,avoidingtalkingaboutherbrothersothatnothinggetsawkward

betweenus.Angerbeginstopounditswayintomyskull,whichmakesmeashamed.WhyamIangryatmy
bestfriendforbeinghopeful?Forcaringenoughtotellmethetruth?

“I’mmoving.Doesn’tmatterhowIfeel.Andhedoesn’twantmeinthatway.”Thewordsfeelforced

outofme.

“Youcouldn’tbemorewrong.”
“Andsomedayunicornswillflyoutofmybutt.”Istandupandthrowmytrashaway.“It’snevergonna

happen.HeandIhaveanagreement.Heisn’tinterestedinlong-term.AndIwon’tchangemyplansfora
guy,anyway.Nomatterhowgreatheis.”

LizzieandIdon’ttalkmuchonthewayhome,whichisjustaswell;thereisn’tmuchtosay.Idon’t

wanttolietoherorgiveherfalsehope.She’swrongaboutJeff.Hewantedanexcitingfling.Hewas
veryclearthathedoesn’twantyetanothergirlclutchingathisankle.

ThethoughtofJeffwiththosepreviouswomenmakesmesocrazythatIdon’tevennoticewhenLizzie

comesinwiththemail.

“YougotsomethingfromUCLA.”
Myskingoesclammy,mystomachplummets.“What?”
Lizziehandsmeathinenvelope,andmyhandsstarttoshake.“Ican’t...”
“Openit,orIsweartoallthatisholy...”Lizziesays,grabbingmyshoulder.
Ifinallyripopentheenvelope,strugglingtogettheletterunfolded.Hardtoreadwhenyourhandis

shaking.“DearSamantha,WearepleasedtoofferyouadmissiontotheDavidGeffenSchoolof
Medicine.”Ican’tsayanymorewordsandtheletterfallstothefloor.

“Ohman.Ohmygosh.”Lizzieshrieks,herhandscoveringhermouth.
Ican’tmove.Ican’tbreathe.
“Stopholdingitin!Beexcited!”sheshouts.
“Idon’tknowhow.”
Lizziegrabsmeandmakesmejumpupanddownwithher.Igoalongfortheride.Whenshepulls

back,therearetearsinhereyes.

“It’sreallyhappening,”shesays,fanningherfacewithherhandstostopthewaterworks.
“WhyareyoumoreexcitedthanIam?”
“You’reinshock.Plus,I’mmeandyou’reyou.”
Isn’tthatthetruth?
“You’rereallygoingtobeadoctor,”shesays.“OhmyLord,yougotintoUCLA.”
Shefinallybreaksme.“Damnyou,Lizzie.”Iwipeatearfrommyeyebeforeitcanfall,butit’s

pointless;thereareplentymorewherethatcamefrom.

IhavethisdrivingneedtotellJeff.Iwanttocallhimortexthimimmediately.Andhowweirdisthat?I
shouldwanttocallmymomanddad,ormaybeAngelorMarcusormypre-medcrew.Butno,it’sJeff.

Excepthe’sworkinglateagaintonight;hedoesthatalot.IknowJefflikeshiswork—keepingupwith

thehottestindustriesandcompanies,doingresearchandanalysis,meetinglotsofnewpeople.WhatI
don’tthinkhelikesasmuchistheSiliconValleyvibe—theconstantrestlessness,thepeoplewhoactlike
yourbestfriendwhentheywantyoutoinvestintheircompany,thewealthandexcess.Jeffisacowboy
bootinanItalianloaferworld.AFordtruckinaTesladealership.

Butthereisonethinghehasincommonwithmostothermen—SiliconValleyorno.SoafterImake

planstomeethimlateathisplace,IsliponthebraandpantiesIboughtforourTahoetrip,whichInever
gottoshowoff.Iprimpmyselfinalltherightplaces,andthrowonleggingsandaT-shirtsohewon’t
suspectanything.

“Heythere,”Isaywhenheopensthedoor,admiringthewayhisshirtisuntuckedfromhispants,the

buttonsundoneathisthroatandcuffs.

“Hey.”Heyawns,darkcirclesunderhiseyes.
“Didyoueat?”Iask,asheleadsmetothecouch.
Heleanshisheadonme.“Yep.Howaboutyou?”
“I’mgood.”Iputmyarmsaroundhimand,finally,hekissesme.Abrief,sleepykiss,butIstillrelish

thewayhisstubblefeelsagainstmychin,thewarmthofhisbreath,andthewayhishandmovesuptocup
mycheek.

“Youfeelnice,”hesays.
“Youworktoohard.”Irunmyhandthroughhishairtocomforthim.
“Saysthegirlthat’sgoingtobeworkingtwenty-hourrotationssomeday.”
“Howdidyouknowthat?”
Hegivesmeoneofhistoothysmiles.“Idomyhomework,ma’am.”
“Speakingofwhich.”Ireachintomybagandpulloutabottleofchampagne.
“What’sthatfor?”
Ican’tgetthewordsout.Therearetoomanyfeelingsandthoughtstryingtoshovethemselvesoutof

mymouth.Ishakemyheadfromsidetoside.

Jeff’seyeswiden.“Whatisit?”
“Ididit.IgotacceptedatUCLA.”
“Wow.Whendidthishappen?”
“Today.I’vebeenwaitingtotellyou.”
Jeffpullsmetohim,tightandfierce.“That’samazing.Congratulations,honey.”
Mybreathcatches.Ilovetheendearmentonhislips.Ilovebeinginhisarmsandsharingthisnews

withhim.Holyshit,Ilovehim,Ilovehim.

Itcan’tbe.It’stoosoon.It’sridiculous.
ButIlovehim.AndIhavenocluewhattodoaboutit.
Iputmyselfoutofmymiserybykissinghim,firstonthemouth,thentheneckandshoulders.
“Iknowyou’retired,”Isay.
“Nevertootiredforyou.”
Itrytoopenthechampagne,whichishardwhenyou’retryingtonibblesomeone’sshoulder.FinallyI

popthecork,spillingalittleonhiscarpet.“Weneedglasses.”

“No,wedon’t,”Jeffsays,grabbingthebottleandtakingaswig.
WhenIkisshimthistime,heopenshismouthandletssomeofthebubblyliquidspillontomytongue.
“Jeff,”Imoan,tryingtopullhimdownonthecouch.
“Wait,wait,”hesays,pullingback.“Thisismajor.Let’senjoyitforaminute.”
Wordsareimpossible,soInod.
Hepullsmeintoahugandholdsmeclose.“I’mso,soproud.You’reamazing.”
Hearingthosewordsisevenmoreamazing.
Itrytobecontentwithahug,butgettingintoUCLAisareminderofhowlittletimeJeffandIhaveleft

together,andafterawhile,needstartsscratchingatme.Ipushhisshirtupandkisshischest,rightover
hisheart.Irunmyhandsdownthelengthofhimandthatmoveshimintoaction.

HepullsmyT-shirtoffandovermyhead,andthenstillswhenheseeswhat’sunderneath.

“Doyoulikeit?”Iask,clearlyfishingforcompliments,becauseIknowhedoes.
Hetracesthesee-throughivorylacewithonefinger,lingeringbetweenmybreasts.“Iwanttotearit

off,butit’stoopretty.”

Instead,likehehasallthetimeintheworld,heunhookstheclaspinthefrontandslipsthelaceoffmy

shoulders.Hegrabsthechampagnebottlewithonefistandholdsitoverme.

“Don’t.It’sgoingtobesocold.”
Hesmiles,andIknowexactlywhathelookedlikeasakid.Abitcockyandfullofhell.Andthenthe

champagnehitsme,leavingacold,wettrailonmyskin.

“Aah!It’sfreezing.”AllIcandoislaugh,untilJeffcapturesthechampagnewithhismouthandlicksit

offme.Hepullsmyleggingsdownandrepeatstheprocess,alittlelowerthistime.

“Ilovetheseunderwear,”hesayssuckingchampagnefrommybellybutton.“Buttheyhavetogo.”
Idon’tlovethetasteofthechampagne,butit’sworthittofeelhismouthonmine.“Damnthatladder

tohell,”Isay,aswefallontothefloor.Alwaysthegentleman,Jeffrollsmeontopofhim.

“Ihavesomeverygoodmemoriesofthatladder,”hesays.Andthenthere’snomoretimeforjokes.
Itrytoremembereverytouch,everywhisper.ButtheurgencyconsumesmeandIletit.Idothatalot

withJeff.

Oncewe’rebothrelaxedandsatisfied,Itrytostayinthemoment.ButallIcanthinkaboutishow

soonI’llbeleaving.

“I’mreallyhappyforyou,”hesaysquietly.
Heholdsmetohischest,thechenilleblanketfromhiscouchthrownoverusbutprovidinglittle

warmth.IwishIcouldseetheexpressiononhisface.

“Thanks.I’mhappy,too.ButJulyiscomingsoquickly.”
“That’swhenyouhavetogo?”Hisvoiceisalittlerougharoundtheedges.
“Yeah.”
Hesighsanddoesn’tsayanythingelse.I’mscaredtotalk,too.Therearesofewdaysleftforus,andif

heasksmetokeepseeinghim—rightnow,whileIcanhearthebeatingofhisheart—Imightcave.What
wouldbeworseisifhedoesn’task.Sosilenceismybestoption.

Jefffindsanothersolution:changingthesubject.“Areyourparentsexcited?”
“Icalledmymom,butshewasn’tthere.I’msupposedtogooverthisweekend,somaybeI’llwaitand

telltheminperson.”

“Ibetthatwillbefun.”
“Wanttocomewithme?Youcanexperienceitliveandintheflesh.Youmighthavetoeatveganfood,

though.”Mydesiretohavehimthereoverridesanyanxietyaboutaskinghim.

Jeff’schucklesdeepinhischest.“Absolutely.I’min.”
“Justrememberyousaidthat.”

Chapter20:Jeff

52DaysLeft

“Iknowthey’rehere,”Samsays,knockingonthedooragain.

Hermomanddad’shouseisbrightblue,withafire-engine-reddoor.Bougainvilleaframesthe

entryway,andthereareoverflowingflowerbedsinthefront.It’sactuallyreallycharming,whichmakes
mewonderwhatIthoughtitwasgoingtolooklike.

“Don’tyouhaveakey?”
“Ileftitathome,asusual,”Samsays,diggingaroundinherbigslouchypurse;thatthingisablack

hole.“Noworries.They’reprobablyaroundback,andthegate’sneverlocked.”

Wetakethebrickpathtothesideyard,andsureenough,thegateisopen.
“Hey,Mom,”Samshoutswhenwehearlaughter.
Thereareothersounds—amotorwhirringandthesplashofwater.TheymustbeinthehottubSam

toldmeabout.

Yes,theysureare.
Asweroundthecorner,IseeSam’smomclimbingoutofit,straddlingtheside.Completelynude.
“Hi,honey,”Mrs.Cavallosays,swingingtheotherlegovertheedge.
IseeSam’smominallheruntamedglory.Iswingmyeyesup—Ireallydo—butthatleavesmestaring

atfifty-year-oldbreasts.

Itrytolookawaycompletely,butthereisnosafehaven,becauseMr.Cavalloisgettingouttogreet

us,too.Isayaprayertotheballgodsthatmyjunkwillneverswingthatlow,andthencallitquitsand
covermyfacewithmyhandslikeatoddler.

“Willyouguysgetsometowels?Please?”Sambegs.Shedoesn’tseemshockedintheleast,soher

embarrassmentisentirelyonmybehalf.

Iforcemyhandsawayfrommyfaceandmanup.JustbecausethelasttimeIsawmymomnakedwas

whenshebreastfedmedoesn’tmakethisweird.Ithink.

Sam’sparentswalkoverandshakemyhand,halfheartedlywrappingthemselvesintheirtowels.
“Please,callmeDivina,”hermomsays,pullingmeinforahug.Yep,stillthinkingaboutherbreasts,

whicharenowpressedagainstme.Sweetmercy,makeitgoaway.

“Joe,”herdadsays,alsohuggingme,historsobare.Ihaven’thuggedmydadsinceIgraduated

college.OnlygotahandshakewhenIearnedtheMBA.

Butthisisafamilyofhuggers,sothereareagoodfewminutesofembracing.
“Comeonin,”Divinasays,lookinglikeadarker,olderversionofherdaughter.Shehasthreadsof

silverinherhairthatdon’ttakeawayfromherbeauty.

Theinsideofthehouseisascolorfulastheoutside,witheverythingalevelortwomoreupscalethan

thehouseIgrewupin.Thediningtableisabeautifulcherrywood;itlooksrustic,butwasprobably
purchasedatPotteryBarn.Thereisclutterontheshelves,butit’sorganizedaroundexoticvasesandpots
thatwerelikelypickeduponatriptoIndiaorAfrica.BayAreashabbychic.Butthereisagreatsenseof
easeandwarmthhere,andIlikepicturingSaminthemiddleofitall.

“I’msorry,”Samsays,asherparentsheadtotheirroomtogetdressed—maybe.
“I’venowbeeninanudeembracewitheverymemberofyourfamily.”
“I’musedtoit,butyou...”Thenshebustsuplaughingandcan’tstop.It’safull-blownattackthat

turnsintosnortingandtears.It’sinfectious.

“Youwarnedme,”Isay,wipingawayatearofmyown.
“Isuredid.Wantatour?”
There’sonlyoneroomI’mreallyinterestedin,butIletSamshowmearoundalittle.Then,finally,we

endupinherbedroom.Ialwaysthinkachildhoodbedroomsaysalotaboutsomeone.Sam’sisa
combinationofoldandnew,clearlyupdatedtoaccommodateherwhenshestayshereonweekendsor
holidays.Buttherearestillchildhoodawardsonhershelvesandphotosandotherparaphernaliapinned
ontoacorkboard.

“Isthisyouinhighschool?”Iask,leaningintoapictureofSamwearingskinnyjeansandUggs,her

pin-straighthairhangingoverherface.There’saguystandingnexttoherwearingthesamejeans.

Shelaughs.“Ohman,lookatme.Sotragic.ItwaslikeeightydegreesoutandIwaswearingthose

sweatyUggs.”

“Who’stheguy?”
“Matt.Hewasmyboyfriendforaboutfiveminutes.Butmostlywewerefriends.”
IlookmorecloselyatMatt.He’sanAsianversionofJustinBieber,completewiththegoofyhairand

thegirlyface.“I’mguessingyouwereintoprettyboys?”

Shepunchesmelightlyontheshoulder.“I’vedatedlotsofdifferentkindsofpeople.”Shestartsbiting

hernail,obviouslymakingalistinherhead.IttakeslongerthanI’dhoped.“Although,Ididhaveitbad
forZacEfronbackintheday.”

Igrabherandpullhertome.“Ohyeah?YoustillgethotwhenyouwatchHighSchoolMusical?”
Shegoestopunchmeagain,soIsidetrackherbykissingher.Thatdistractsmeinstead.
“IdidlosemyvirginitytoMatt.Inthisroom,actually.”
Nolongerdistracted.“HowwasgoodoldMatt?Wait,nevermind.Howdidyousneakhimpastyour

parents?”

“Oh,myparentsknew.”
SherunsherhandsdownmybackandIshiver.“Seriously?”
“Yeah.Mymomanddadwantedmeto‘exploremysexualityinasafeenvironment.’”
“Wow.Well,luckyMatt.”
Sheputsherfingerintheneckofmyshirtandpullsmecloser.“Hehadnothingonyou,Price.”
Shekissesmedeepandslow,andIwanttotumbleherontothebed.ButunlikeSam,I’mprettysure

I’dburninhellfordefilingherinherparents’house.

Weheadbackintothekitchen,whereSam’smomissettingoutfood.SheputsmeandSamtowork

settingthetableasJoewalksin.

Joeisathinguywithintense,darkeyesandahorseshoemoustache.Anyhintofthreatismitigatedby

hisconstantsmileandtanBirkenstocks.

“SoJeff,tellusallaboutyourself.Samhasbeenskimpywiththedetails,asusual.”
“I’mfromUtah.Icameheretoworkinventurecapital.”
“That’sinvesting,right?”Joescoopsasurprisingamountoffoodonhisplateandpassesthebokchoy

andnoodles.

“Yes.Iwasafinancialanalystbackhome.”
Divinaleansforward.“HowdoyoulikeCalifornia?Beautiful,isn’tit?”
“Uh,yes.Very.”Thenoodleshitmytongue,theirsweetandsourtangreallytasty.Butit’sspicierthan

I’musedto,forcingacoughoutofme.

IelbowSamunderthetable,becauseIwanthertosharehernews.Shegivesmethesideeyebut

keepschewing.

“YoutwoshoulddosomecampinginBigSur.Amazing,”Joessays.
Samsetsherforkdown.“Giveitup,Dad.I’mnevergoingtolikecamping.”
“Howareyoumychild?”Joesasks,smiling.“Allthosenaturalfamilycampswetookyouto,andyou

stillhatesleepingintheoutdoors.”

Samshakesherhead.“Itwasbecauseofthosecamps.Everybodyreekedbytheendoftheweek.”
“Makesyouappreciatethecomforts,”Divinasays.Shereachesacrossandpatsmyhand.“Sotellus

moreaboutthisrelationship,Sam.”

“Mom...”
Divinaignoresher.“Howlonghaveyoutwobeenlovers?”
Iswallow,thespicynoodlesgoingdownhard,asItrytofigureouthowtoanswerthis.DoIanswer

it?IelbowSamagain.

“Ignorethat,”shesaystome.
“I’mtryingtomakesuremyonlychildisinasex-positiverelationship,”Divinasays.
Icough.
“SoIhavesomenews,”Samsays,settingherglassdowntoohard.“IgotintoUCLA.”
Divinatearsupinstantly.“Seriously?Ican’tbelieveit.Whydidn’tyoutellus?”Shecomesaround

thetabletohugSam.

“She’salwaysbeenahealer,”Joesays.“Ialwaysknew.”HehugsSam,too.
“Dad,don’t...”
“Whenshewasten,ourdogBobogotsick.Thevetwantedtoputitdown,butSamnursedhimbackto

health.Shereaduponhowtocareforhimandspentthenextweek—twenty-fourseven—withthatdog.
Helivedanothertwoyears.”

“ShecriedforawholedaywhenBobodied.”Divina’ssmileiswideandproud,andherloveforher

daughterisbreathtaking.Mustbestrangebeinganonlychild;havingallyourparents’affectionsand
attentionsheapedonyou.

“AndthenwhenRamoswasinthehospital...”Joesays.
SamtoldmeallaboutherUncleRamos,whowasaformativefigureinherlife.
“Thecaraccidentdidn’ttakehimrightaway,”Divinasays.“Hewasinacomaforacoupledays.

Samwasresearchingtheentiretime.Askingthedoctorsquestions,challengingthem.”

Samlooksdownatherplate.
“Theythreatenedtomakeherleave,”Joesays,lostinthememory.“Butweweretootornuptofocus,

andshemadesurehewasbeingtakencareofproperly.”

Samsetshernapkindown,stillnotlookingatanyone.“Theyweren’ttellingusthetruthabouthow

unlikelyitwasthathewouldwakeup.”

“You’llbedifferent,Sammie,”Joesays,puttinghishandonhershoulder.“You’regoingtobethe

best.”

“Thanks,Dad.”Sheisblinkinghard,tryingnottogetemotional.
Iputmyhandonherkneeandgiveitasqueeze.
Weclearuplunchandheadoutsidefordessert—vegancookiesthataredryasdust.Divinashowsme

hergarden,whichisfilledwithorange,pink,andyellowblooms.Thereisapatchforvegetables,
completewithtwofatchickenspeckingaroundinthedirt.

“Thecoopisfurtherback,”Joesays,wavinginthedirectionofthegarage.“Wealsohaveabee

colony.”

“Howdoyouextractthehoney?”
ThisgetsJoeanimated.Hetakesmetothegarageandshowsmesomeemptycombsandtheelectric

extractorthatspinsthem.

“Takeajar.It’sreallygoodforyou.”Joehandsmeapintofamberhoney.
“Dad,didJefftellyouheplaysthebanjo?”Sam’stoneistoosweettobeanythingbutmischievous.
ThelookIgiveherismeanttobeapromiseofretribution,butsheignoresme.
Joe’seyeslightup.“Howmanystrings?”
“Standardfive.ButIdidn’tbringitwithme,”Isay.
“Don’tworry.Daddyhasone.He’llletyouplayit,”Samsays,smugasabug.
Givingheranotherdirtylookwillonlyencourageher.
“Sure,”Isay,asJoerunsofftowhereverhekeepshisinstruments.
Whenhecomesback,he’sholdinganice-lookingbanjoandaguitar.Guessthisisgoingtobeaduet.
“Youknow‘ThisLandIsYourLand’?”heasks,handingmethebanjo.
“Isuredo.”
Istartpickingoutthetune,andJoejumpsinontheguitar.
Hepointstome.“Yousing.Ihaveaterriblevoice.”
“Youhaveothergifts,sweetie,”Divinasays,cominginfromthekitchen.
SamthinksI’llbeembarrassed.LittledoessheknowhowoftenI’vedonethiswithmyfamily.
“Thislandisyourland,thislandismyland,FromCalifornia,totheNewYorkisland,”Isingina

strongbaritone.

Sam’seyesgowide,soIreallygetintoit,holdingmynoteslonger,beltingoutthefinalwords.Bythe

end,sheandDivinaareclapping.

Joeissoimpressedhemakesmeplay“YouAreMySunshine”withhim.
“Wow,you’reatotalnerd,”Samsaysafterward,atwinkleinhereye.
“Butasexyone.”
“Damnstraight.”Sheslidesherhandaroundmyneckandkissesme.
It’saheadythingtohavesomeoneappreciatewhatyoualwaysthoughtwereflaws.
Asthedaywindson,IdiscoverthatSam’sparentsaresortofaninverseversionofmine,whichputs

meatease.Likemyparents,JoeandDivinaareinterestedinself-sufficiency,buttheyusedifferent
methodstoachieveit.IdoubtJoewouldapproveofmydad’sguncollection,whilemydadwouldn’t
understandsomeonewhocouldn’tphysicallydefendhisfamily,buttheprinciplesoverlapsomewhere.
Still,therearestarkdifferences.

“IfyoukidswanttosleepoverinSam’sroom,feelfree,”Divinasays.“Wehavesomefriendscoming

overforadrumcirclesoon,butyou’rewelcometojoin.”

“Wecanprobablystayforthat,butnotovernight,”Samsays.
Ithinkmyeyebrowsaretouchingmyhairline.“Wecan?”
Sheticklesmyside.“Yousaidyouwantedthefullexperience.Wantedtogetoutofyourcomfort

zone.”

“Iguesswatchingpeopledrummingisn’ttheendoftheworld.”
Hersmilemakesthehairsonmyarmsstandupstraight.
“Sam,cometryonthesweaterImadeforyoubeforeeveryonegetshere,”Divinasays.“Icanmake

oneforLizzie,too.”

IbetLizzie’sgoingtolovethatsweater.ShecanaddittotheGratefulDeadT-shirtthatDivinagave

her.

Joejoinsmeonthecouchaswesitandwaitfortheladies.Helooksatmeforasecond,hishead

cockedasifhe’stakingmymeasure.Whichmeanshe’sabouttogivemethetalk.Theonethatgooddads
givetheirdaughters’boyfriends—evenopen-mindeddads,apparently.I’mfascinatedtoseewhathis
versionofthetalkwillbe.Butit’snotmyfirstrodeo,soI’mnotworried.

“So,Samwillbeleavingthissummer,”hesays.“Ihatetoseehergo,butI’msureexcitedforher.”
“Metoo.It’sherdream.”
“Youtwohaveplanstostaytogether?”Heleansbackandswingsonearmoverthebackofthecouch.
Idon’tthinkthat’sanyofJoe’sbusiness,buthistoneisfriendly,andIknowhemeanswell.Mydad

wouldbejustasdirect,ifnotmoreso.

“No.Longdistanceishard.Weknewgoinginthatshe’donlybehereawhile.”
Heleansforwardwithintent.“Andhowdoyoufeelaboutthat?”
HowdoIfeel?Whatthehelldoesthathavetodowithanything?Icrossmyankleovermyknee,but

myfootisjigglingsoIputitbackontheground.

“Uh,Sam’sgreat.Obviously.”
“Buthowdoyoufeelaboutherleaving?”Joe’ssmileisgone,andhistinyeyesfeellikethey’re

burningtwoholesthroughmyforehead,likeSuperman’swould.

“Well,I...withallduerespect,that’ssomethingI’drathertalktoSamabout.”Or,betteryet,talkto

nooneabout.Ever.

Joetakesasipofhislavendericedtea.Ihavenoideahowhecanlookdauntingdoingsuchathing,

buthedoes.

“Fairenough.ButIwouldliketothinkthatanymanwithmydaughterwouldfeelherloss.”
Iplacemyhandsonmyknees.“Ofcourse.”
Joetapsonefingeronhistoplip,hisgazeunwavering.Mypulseishammeringinmyneck.Iwonder

ifhecantell.

“IexpectSammiehastoldyouaboutherchildhood.”
“Some.Soundslikeshewasahappykid.”
Joesmiles,butitmightaswellbeafrownwiththewayhiseyesdim.“Yes,Iguessshewouldsay

that.Sheprobablyleftoutthedetails.”

Idon’tknowwhattosaytothis,soIkeepquiet.
“WhenIwasayoung,Iwantedfreedommorethananything—probablybecauseIneverhadit,”Joe

says.“ThenIfoundawomanthatwantedthat,too.Thingis,freedomcanbeveryselfish.DivinaandI
figuredthatoutwaytoolate,andSammiepaidtheprice.”

“She’sneversaidasmuch.”
Joeholdsupahand,insistentonmakinghispoint.“Shewouldn’t.Seethatvasethere?”Hepointstoa

pieceofAsianpotteryonthebookshelf.“IgotthatinChina.ItwasSammie’ssenioryearofhighschool,
soshecouldn’tgowithus.Wewentanywayandmissedherprom.Weforgot,andshedidn’tremindus.
Tolduslaterthatshedidn’twantusstayinghomejustforher.Sorrytosay,thingslikethathappeneda
lot.”

IgetanacheinmychestpicturingSamgettingreadyaloneonpromnight.Exceptshewouldn’thave.

Shewouldhavecalledfriendsover,foundawaytomakeitfun.

“Andnowshe’scapableandsmart,”Isay.“Andshe’sgoingtobeadoctor.”
Joelooksupatme.“True.Andwetrytomakeituptohereveryday.Doesn’tchangethefactthatwe

madeherfeellikeashewasn’tagoodenoughreasontocompromise.”

Irubmyhandstogether,mypalmsmoist.
“So,whatI’mhopingisthatyou’lldoeverythingyoucantomakethisbreakupeasyforher.For

yourself,too,”hesays.“BecauseIthinkyou’regoingtomisshermorethanyourealize.”

“Ofcourse.”Iswallowthelumpinmythroat.
“Yes.Well,Icantellyou’vegotalotofpositiveenergy,Jeff.I’msorrythatwewon’tbeseeingmore

ofyou.”

“Thankyou,sir.”
Joelaughs,creatingfoldsaroundhiseyesthatpracticallyswallowthem.“Man,Idon’tgetcalledthat

veryoften.ButIappreciatethegesture.”

I’msavedbySam’sreturn,herarmsfullofwhatlookslikeadeadsheep.Sheglancesbackandforth

betweenmeandherfather.

“Let’sgoputthisinthecarsoIdon’tleaveithere,”shesaystome.
“Obviousploytogetmeoutside,butI’lltakeit,”IsayasIunlockthecar,myjawstillclenchedfrom

myconversationwithJoe.“Ithoughtyousaidyourdadworkedatauniversity?”

“Hedoes,why?”
“Doingwhat?”
Shesmackshergumacoupleoftimes.“He’satherapist,sohecounselsstudents.”
“YoumighthavewantedtomentionthatIwasgoingtoenduponhiscouch.”
Sheblowsabubble.“What’sthefuninthat?”
Ipopherbubblewithmyfinger.
Wewalkbackintothehousetogether,handandhand.She’sgotasoftbutfirmgriponme.Isqueeze

herfingers,reassuringherthatI’mhere,Joe’swordsstillnaggingatme.

Alittlewhilelater,JoeandDivina’sfriendsbegintofilein.I’mgreetedwithlotsofnamastesand

hugs.AnolderguynamedSkipstaresatmeforaminuteandtellsmemyauraisgreen.He’swearingahat
thatlookslikeit’smadeoutofbeaverfur.

“Thisisn’tsobad,”IwhispertoSamasthesunbeginstofall.It’smostlyabunchofolderpeople

chattinganddrinkingwine.Exceptfortheflowyhempoutfits,theyseemokay.

“Hasn’tstartedyet,”shesays.
Afewminuteslater,DivinaandJoebringouttwolargedrums.Theylookrustic—notlikeanything

you’dbuyinamusicshop.

“Madethemmyself,”Joeconfirms.“Afriendgavemethedeerskinforit.”
Chairsarecleared,aspaceisformed,andpeoplethrowredandyellowcushionsontotheground.

Onebyonetheytaketheirseats,untilSkipmotionsformeandSamtositnexttohim.Hisdrumissmaller,
butmakesacrisp,lowsoundwhenhehitsit.Soon,everyonepicksuponhisrhythm,andthedrumcircle
isinfulleffect.

It’sonlymusic,Itellmyself.AndsinceIplayacoupleofinstruments,Icanappreciatetheeffectthe

drumminghasoneveryone.Themoodturnscalmer,thebasslinesofthedrumssoothing.

Butthenthechantingbegins.
“Ommm,”Skipgroansoutinalowgrowl.Othersfollowsuit,thewomen’svoiceshigher,butstill

guttural.

NowayamIgoingtochant.Samnudgesmeintheribs.
“It’srelaxing.Studiesshowit’stherapeutic.Tryit.”Shecloseshereyesandturnsherhandsup,likein

ayogapose.

Istaysilent.
“Ommmmm.”Shepeeksoneeyeopen.“It’llbefine.Trustme.”
Itakeadeepbreathandletoutarusty,groaningsortofhum.It’sobviousIdon’tknowwhatI’mdoing.

Thenagain,Ican’tbelieveI’msittingcross-legged,moaninglikeacrazyperson.

ThankGodnoonefromhomeiswatchingme.Aremythighssupposedtoachethisbad?Iwonderif

Samiswearingabra.PrettysureIsmellpot.

“Icanhearyouthinkingfromhere,”Samwhispers,hereyesclosed.
Irefocusandletthedrumbeatsrollthroughme.Iguessthisislikemeditation.I’vebeenhitbyguys

wearingtwohundredpoundsofmuscleandfootballgear.Icanhandlethis.Afteraminute,myneck
relaxes,myshoulderssink.

Isensemotioninfrontofme,andmyeyesflyopen.Iwasn’tawareI’dclosedthem.Awomanis

standinginthecircle,swayingbackandforth,herarmsoverherhead.Afewmorepeoplejoinher,and
theystarttowritheandtwistliketeenagersonMolly.

Skippassesmeajoint.Thatexplainsit.Ihanditbacktohim.
“Yousure?”Samasks.
“Don’tseeyoudoingany.”
“Justsayin’,youmightneeditbeforethisnightisover.”
Mylaughissmug.“I’mgood.”
“Surething,toughguy.”
Skiphasabandonedhisdrum.Unfortunately,thisleaveshishandfreetograbmine.Hisfingersare

likedrybark,andItrytopullaway.Buthe’sgotagoodgripforsuchaskinnyguy,andhe’susingmeas
ananchorasheswayssidetoside.

Theskydarkens,buttheoutsideporchlightsilluminatethewomaninthecirclewhippinghertopoff.

Soon,everyoneinthecircleisstrippingdown.

“Closeyourmouth,”Samwhispers.
Thereissomuchsaggingflesh.Iknowit’snormal.IknowI’msupposedtothinkit’sbeautiful—to

appreciatenature.AllI’mthinkingaboutisthatIbettergetmyasstothegymmoreoften,becausemy
clockistickingandnatureiscruel.

“Ouch,”Samsays,whenIgripherhand.
Thedrumminggetslouder,andit’smessingwithmyhead.Ormaybethat’sthescentofSkip’sjoint.

Everything’sgettingalittlefuzzyaroundtheedges,whichmakesthegeriatricgyratingalittleeasierto
take.Thedancersareturningintopaleshadows—likeghostshowlingatthemoon.

“It’stime,”Skipsaystome.“Releaseallthatenergy,man.”Hegesturestothecircle.
ImanagetopullmyhandoutofhisandSam’s,andIholdthemuplikeI’mbeingrobbedatgunpoint.

“No,I’mgood.”

“Giveitatry,”Samsays,hereyesfiery.Shelookslikeanevil,mythicalgoddess—maybeMedusa.

No,toougly.OneofthoseSirens,then.

Theweirdthingis,I’mgoingtodoit.I’mgoingtogetinthatfreakycircleanddancelikethere’sno

tomorrow—becauseIthinkI’mstoned,becausewhythehellnot,andbecauseSamisdaringmeto.

“Givemethat,”Isay,swipingSkip’sjointandtakingacoupleofhealthyhits.
Ipullmyshirtoffandjumpin,andthedancersswallowme.Atfirst,it’soverwhelming.Butaswe

starttomoveasone,energypulsesthroughme,andit’scomingfromthepeoplesurroundingme.Theyare
warmandalive,andIdoseetheirbeauty—theirfreedom.Theydon’tcareabouttherules,orhowthey
looktoeveryoneelse.Justthebeatingofthedrums,whichislikethebeatingoftheirhearts.

Thenagain,themoonissobigit’sswallowingthesky.So,Imightbehallucinating.
Soon,thedrumsdiedown,Iaminexplicablylyingonarecliner,andSamishuggingherparentsgood-

bye.

Samgrabsmyhandsandpullsmeup.
“Timetogohome,DanceswithWolves.”

DivinaandJoewalkustothedoor,shovingacontainerofleftoversintoourhands.
“You’rebeautiful,Divina,”Isay,pullingherintoahugandholdingherfivesecondslongerthanI

needto.

SamloadsmeintothepassengersideofthecarandIthrowmyheadbackontheheadrest.Ibreathe

outsohardmycheekspuffup.

Samputsherhandonmyknee.“Howdiditfeelexpandingthosehorizons?”
Somethingispinchingmyforehead.Ireachup,myfingersmeetingthick,soft,fur.“WhyamIwearing

Skip’shat?”

Shetriesnottolaugh.Fails.“Becauseyoudidn’tjustleaveyourcomfortzone,youlefttheuniverse.”

Chapter21:Sam

30DaysLeft

“Idon’twanttogo,”Iwhisper.

Jeffissmoothingaslowhanddownmyback.He’slazyandsleepyandsweetafterwehavesex.
“It’sonlyforafewdays.Andit’llbefun.”
Sincemyparents’house,allmynightshavebeenfilledwithJeff.Wedidn’ttalkaboutitoragreeon

anything;hejusthandedmeakeytohisplace,andIuseit.Nomatterhowlatehegetshome,I’mthere.
SometimesI’mstudying,sometimesI’mmakingdinner.Orsometimes,I’minbedwaitingandimpatient.
Buthiseyeslightupwhenheseesme.Everytime.

Notthisweekend,though.I’llbeinLAgettingwelcomedbythemedschoolandmeetingmyfuture

classmates.

Ishrug.“Probablygoingtobealotofuptightperfectionists.”
SometimesIfeellikeapuzzlepiecethatfellontheflooranddoesn’tknowwhereitfitsanymore.I’m

surroundedbysmart,competitivepeopleinmyprogram,andthat’sgoingtogetworsewhenIgotomed
school.Icankeepupwiththemmentally,butIdon’tknowwhereIfitinwiththemsocially.I’mnota
naturalcompetitor.True,Iliketokickthecrapoutofthebaginmykickboxingclass,butI’monly
competingwithmyself.AndthestatusandinfluencethatdoctorsstriveforissuchafarcryfromthewayI
wasraised.

Jefftwinesmyhairaroundhisfinger.“No.Theyaregoingtobesmartandinterestingand

accomplished.Whatareyoudoingwhileyou’rethere?”

“Theyhaveusonatightschedule.Housingtours,get-togethers,classvisits.Thattypeofthing.”
“Makesureandleavethecampusonceinawhilesoyoucancheckoutthecity.”
“I’vebeentoLAafewtimes.It’skindoffun.Big.LotsofBotox.”
Hetugsonmyhair.“Stopworrying.You’regoingtoloveit.”
“AsmuchasIloveithere?”
EverythingyouneedtoknowaboutJeffisinhiseyes.SowhentheysoftenIseethathecaughtmy

meaningandIrevealedtoomuch.Hecan’tgivemeananswerthat’sgoingtomakemefeelbetter,sohe
rubshisthumbalongmybottomlip.

Andwhenhedropsmeoffattheairport,hiseyestellmethathe’llmissme,too.
“Knock’emdead,sweetheart.”
Andwithonelastkisshe’sgone.

LA’snotasbigasIrememberit.OrmaybeSanJosehasgottenbiggerbycomparison.

Doesn’treallymatterbecauseonceI’matUCLA,thecityshrinksdowntothesizeofthecampus.If

thisisanyindicationofwhatmedschoolwillbelike,I’mgoingtobebusy.

“Thinkwe’llgetabathroombreakatanypoint?”theguynexttomewhispers.
Thewomanatthefrontoftheclassroomisexplainingthehousinglotterysystemforthesecondtime.

She’swearingasensiblenavypantsuitthatscreamscollegeadministrator.

“Doubtit.That’swhytheygiveuswaterbottles.”
Whenhelaughs,Iturntolookathim.Aquickscantellsmehe’scute,butIignoreit.
“I’mMohammedbytheway.”
“Sam.”Sincewehavenametags,theintroductionsarekindofunnecessary.
“Yougoingtothemeetandgreetlater?”Hetapshispenonthetableinarhythmicpattern.
“Notsure.”
Jeffsaidhewouldcalllater,andIwanttobeavailabletotalktohim.It’snuts,butImisshimalready.

Ikeepwonderingwhathewouldthinkofthecampusandthepeoplehere.Whichisridiculous,ofcourse,
becausehewon’teverseethem.Depressingthought.

Mohammedchatsmeupabitlongerandthenthesessionisover.I’msurehe’shittingonmewhenhe

helpsmeputthestrapofmybagovermyshoulder.TherewillprobablybelotsofMohammedsinmy
future—guyslookingforcasualhookupsastheytreadwaterintheprogram.Becausewe’reallgoingtobe
workingourassesoff.

Mydepressiondeepens.
Mohammedgrabshislaptop.“YoustayingattheRamadaliketherestofus?”
“Yeah.”
Heripsthecorneroffapieceofpaperandwriteshiscellandroomnumberonit.“Ifyouchangeyour

mindaboutthethingtonight,letmeknow.Thereareabunchofusheadingovertogether.”

Ithankhimandshovethepaperintomypocket.

Iletmyselfintomyroomandchangeintoapairofpajamas,relievedthatdinnerisover.Theschool
pulledouttheirmostfamousalumnitomingleandmakesspeeches,anditwashardnottobeimpressed.
I’mallschmoozedoutnow,though.Ishouldbeheadingtothemeetandgreetwiththeotherstudents,but
allIcanthinkaboutistalkingtoJeff.

Whenmyphonelightsupwithhispicture,Icrawlunderthebedcoversandanswerit.
“Heythere,”hesays,hisvoicehusky.Itmakesmestretchlikeacatgettingitsbackstroked.
“I’msogladyoucalled.”
Iknowhe’ssmilingthroughthephone.
“Hasn’tbeenthatlong.”
“Longenough,”Isay.
“Youalldone?”
“No.There’sasocialthinggoingonrightnow.”
Hepauses.“Idon’twanttokeepyoufromdoingwhatyouneedto.”
Iknowhe’stryingtodotherightthing,butI’vebeenlookingforwardtotalkingtoJeffallday,andit

stingsthathe’ssowillingtojumpoffthephone.

“WellthisguyMohammeddidinvitemetogooutwithhimandsomefriends.”
“Mohammed,huh?Maybeyououghttostayonthephone,then.”
Ishouldn’tbepleasedthatmymanipulationworked,butIam.“Tellmeaboutyourday.”
Ashetalks,Ipicturehimlyingonhisbed,tossingsomethingintheairandcatchingit,likehe

sometimesdoeswithhisorangesorapples,orwhateverislayingaround—hisbighandsconfidentand
strong.Itrytofocusonwhathe’ssaying,butit’stoodifficultwhenIcanpracticallyfeelmyfingersslip
underhisshirtandseehimshiver.Canalmosttastehisskinonmylips.

HeinsistsItellhimaboutUCLA,soIdo.ButIdon’twanttotalkaboutaplacewe’llneverbein

together.

“Thishotelroomislonely,”Iwhisper.
“Yeah?Mybediscold.”
“IwishIwerethere.”
“Youneedtobewhereyouare,babe.”Buthisvoicedripslonging.
“Iwanttofeelyourhandsonme.Grippingmywaist.”
“Damn,Samantha...”
“I’mtheonlyonefeelingthisway?”
“YouknowIwantthat,too.Justtwomoredaysuntilyou’rebackwithme.”
Butmymoodisturningdark.“ButthenjustahandfuluntilIleaveagain.”
Hesighs.“Don’tthinkaboutthatnow.Talktomeinstead.”
SoIdo,butevenafterwe’reoff,Ican’tshakemysadness.
Mohammed’swaddeduppieceofpapersitsonthedesknexttothebed,mockingme.I’msupposedto

beheremeetingpeople,gettingexcitedaboutthenextfouryears.Instead,I’msittingaloneinmyhotel
room,moping.I’mrightbackwhereIwaswhenIwasdatingLuke—pining,gettingsowrappedupina
guythatIcan’tfindmywayout.

No.
Imadeapromisetomyself.Neveragain.IgetdressedandgrabMohammed’snumberoffthedesk.
I’vebeendreamingaboutthismostofmylife.Timetomakeithappen.

Chapter22:Jeff

20DaysLeft

Ireplacedthecarburetorandmycarstilldoesn’twork.

ThisisthefirsttextI’veevergottenfromJude.WhenIseehim,hetreatsmelikeabuddy,butIonly

everseehimifhe’swithLizzie.Exceptsheandthegirlsarehangingouttonight,soI’mguessinghe’s
bored.Iam,too,cometothinkofit.

EversinceSamgotbackfromLA,she’sbeendetached.Notcompletely.Notenoughtocallheronit.

Justabitcoolaroundtheedges,likeshe’salreadydistancingherselffromme.MaybeIdon’tblameher,
butImissher.

Youdidsomethingwrong,

Itypeback.

Hesendsmeanemojiofamiddlefinger.Thisdudeneedstolightenup.
Ineedhelpandyou’llhavetodo,

hewrites.

Thisisobviouslyaboutmorethanhelpinghimwithacar.Hewantstohangoutwithme.
DoIwanttoinvestinJude?Nochoice,really.Afterall,Lizziealreadyhas.

AsI’mheadingout,IseeDiegopokingoutofthetomatoplantsinthegarden.

“Hithere.”Iholduponehandinawave.
“I’mpickingthefruit.”He’ssquattingamongthevines,agreentomatoinhisgrip.
“Youneedtosticktotheonesthatarebrightred.”Icrouchdownnexttohimandfindabigjuicy

tomato.“Likethis.”Itwistitoffthevineandputitinhisbucket.“Don’tpull.Twist.”

“Howdoyouknow?”Hecocksoneseriouseyebrowatmewhichlooksstrangeonafacethatsmall,

andIhavetostopmyselffromlaughing.

“Myfamilygrewlotsofthings.Tomatoesandbeansandcucumbers.Mommadeushelppickandcan

allofit.Ievenknowhowtomakepickles.”

“Picklesareyucky.”
“NotthewayImakethem.”Thatallfeelslikesuchalongtimeago.EverydayI’mhereIfeelalittle

furtherfrommyroots,andIdon’tknowifthat’sagoodorbadthingsometimes.Maybethat’swhat’s
kickedupsomeofthesememoriesofthebaby.

Diegograbsanothertomatoandtwists.“Willyoushowmehowtomakepickles?”
It’ssadthatDiegoandhisdaddon’tspendmoretimetogether.Exceptnotalldadsarecreatedequal.

Myfathernevergaveaninch,buthewasalwaystherewhenIneededhimandtherewasneveraquestion
thathewouldbe.IwonderwhatkindoffatherIwouldhavemade.WouldIhavebeenstrictora
pushover?Kindorcritical?MaybeIwouldhavebeenallofthosethings.MaybeIstillwillbe.

“Notmanytomatoesyet,”Evasays,comingoutthebackdoor.“Maybetrythezucchini,Diego.”
Herunsovertoasmallpatchofzucchini,tramplingafewcarrotsonhisway.
IhandEvaatomato.“Mydadusedtoeatthesewhole,likeapples.”
“Mygrandfatherdidthat,too.Idon’thavethestomachforit.Butthenagainhewasatougholdbird.

Coulddrinktequilastraightfromthebottle.”

“Diego’ssomethingelse,”Isay,watchinghimwipehishandsonhisshorts.He’swearingshark-

patternedflip-flopswithastraponthebacktoholdthemonhisfeet.“He’severything.Thepainful
marriage,thesleeplessnights—allworthit.”Eva’seyesaremoist,andIdon’tthinkshe’sawomanthat
crieseasily.

“Youthinksomedayyou’llremarry?”
Sheshrugsbutdoesn’tlookhopeful.“Ialreadysawthatmovieonceanditdidn’tendwell.”
Inudgehershoulderwithmine,thewayafriendwould.“Comeon.You’renotacynic.”
“No,butaguywouldhavetobenutstotakeme,myex,mykid,andmymortgageon.NotsureIwanta

guystupidenoughtotry.”

Shelaughsatherself,andinthatmomentherstrengthandresiliencemakeherbeautiful.Ihaveno

doubtthatwhenEva’sfinallyreadytoletsomeonein,therewillbeplentyofmeninterested.Ionlyhope
he’sworthyofherandDiego.

WhenIfinallygettoJude’splace,he’sinthedrivewaywearingcoveralls,hisengineinpieces.He’sgot
EDMplayinginthegarage,thesynthetic,spasticbeatsgivingmeanimmediateheadache.

“Tookyoulongenough,”hesays.
“Don’tyouhaveanyoneelsetohelpwiththis?”
Judeturnshisbaseballcaparoundandsmiles.“Youthinkmyfriendsknowhowtofixengines?They

getpissedwhentheirseatwarmersdon’theatupfastenough.”

Idon’tdoubtit.“Handmethecarburetor.AndifI’mgoingtohelp,turnthatshittymusicdown.”
Hescowlsbutlowersthevolume.“Lizziedoesn’tlikeiteither.”
“Becauseweraisedhertohavegoodtaste.Youalreadycheckthesparkplugs?”
Helooksinsulted.“Ofcourse.”
Igettoworkontheengine,double-checkingeachconnection.“DidyouteachRyanhowtofixcars?”
JudestiffenswhenIsayhisbrother’sname.Thosetwomighthaveevenmorecraptowadethrough

thanIthought.

“Itried.He’smorethebooktype.AndIwaslearningontheflyanyway,soIwasn’tthebestteacher.”

Hedoesn’tmeetmyeye.“Butyeah,weworkedonthingstogether.”

“Iwouldsayitmustbequietwithouthimhere,exceptmysisterisalwaysaround.”
Hissmilebreaksthetensionaroundhismouth.“NotasmuchasI’dlike.”
Weworkinsilenceforawhileuntilthecarburetor’sbackin.Oncewe’vereassembledeverything,

Judecrankstheengineandletsoutavictoryyellwhenitstartsrightup.

“Nice.”There’ssomethingverysatisfyingaboutfixingsomethingthat’sbroken.
Judegetsoutandstartscleaningupthetools.“Ioweyouone.”
“Nah.”Iscrubattheoilonmyhandswitharag,butit’smakinglittledifference.“So,Ryanwillbe

backsoon.”

Judeshovesthewrenchinhistoolboxwithextraforce.“Iknow.”
“Whathappensifhecan’tlivewithLizziemovinginhere?”
IshouldleaveJudealone,butIwanttoknowhowmuchmiserymysisterisinfor.
“Well,Ican’tlivewithitifshedoesn’t.”Heslipsthelasttoolintoplace.“Whataboutyou?”
“Me?”
“ThingsseemprettyseriouswithyouandSam.Yougoingtokeepthatgoingaftersheleaves?”
“Webothknowlongdistancewon’twork.Plus,shedoesn’twantacommitment.”

Judecleansthefingerprintsoffhishood.“Couldhavefooledme.You’repracticallyconjoinedtwins.”
“She’sbeencoolingoff.EversinceLA.Probablyrealizedhowmuchfunitwillbethere.”
Heleansbackonthehoodandcrosseshisarms.“Sam’satoughnuttocrack.Shecouldbefreezing

youout.Orshecouldbeprotectingherself.I’lllaytenbucksonthesecondone.”

That’snotabetI’mgoingtotake.

“Youwanttowatchthatnewsci-fishow?”IaskSamasshenestlesintomyside.

“Sure.”Hervoiceischipper.Toochipper.It’smissingthatSamtone—theonethatflirtswith

sarcasm,butmanagestoremainsincere.

Iturntoher,wrappingmyhandinherhair.“Youevergonnatellmewhat’sgoingonwithyou?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Hereyesmakealiaroutofher.
“YouthinkIdon’tnoticethecoldshoulderyou’vebeengivingmesinceyougotback?”
“Wehadsexlastnight.”
“That’snotthesamething,”Isay,feelinglikewe’veswitchedgenderroles.I’musuallytheonegiving

thenon-answers.

WestareattheTVagain.Idoubteitheroneofusisregisteringmuch.
Ifiddlewiththethrowpillowmyhandisrestingon.SincewhendidIhavesomanyofthese?Ibought

onewhenImovedin.Butnowtherearefour—inweirdshapesandcolors—purchasedwithSamon
randomoutingsbecausesheinsistedtheywouldmaketheplacecozier.Sheoverestimatesthepillowsand
underestimatesherself.

“Alright,getonthefloor,”Isay.
Hereyeswiden.“What?”
“Getonthefloor.”
“Isthisasexthing?BecauseI’mnotreallyinthemood.”
Istartthrowingallthepillowsontothearearug.“We’remakingafort.”
Oneofherdarkeyebrowsshootsnorth.“We’remakingawhat?”
“Fort.Nevermadeone?”
Shedoesn’tneedtoanswerthat;Iknowshehasn’t.
Iheaduptheladderandcomebackdownwithblanketsandsheets.Samisstillsittingonthecouch,

staringatmelikeI’vehadabreakdown.

“Thisisatime-honoredPricetradition.Whenwewerekids,wemadefortseveryday,”Iexplain.

“Lizziewastheonethatcameupwiththeideaofatruthfort.Whenyouwereinit,youcouldn’tlie,or
else.”

“Orelsewhat?”
“Whateverkidsarescaredof.Badluck,yourdogwilldie,you’llloseyourfootballgame.Anyway,

we’remakingonenow.”

Shecrossesherarms.“AndyouthinkI’mgettinginsideofit?”
Isitbackonmyheels,untanglingblankets.“Yep.”
Sheshakesherhead,no.
“WhenyouleftforLA,weweresolid.Now,youbarelylookmeintheeye.”Iholdmyhandoutto

her.“Iwanttoknowwhy.”

Shestudiesmyfaceforaminute,herlipsgoingsoft,hereyesevensofter.Then,sheslipsherhandin

mine—cautiously—andIlowerhertothefloor.

Itisn’tanyeasiertobuildafortnowthenitwasasakid.Maybeevenharder,becauseI’mless

willingtotoppleoverfurnitureorbreaksomething.ButIshowSamhowtoanchorthecornersofthe
blanketsindrawers,underheavyobjects—whateverwecanfindtoraiseithighenoughtositunder.Iput
afrontdooronourfortbythrowingthesheetoverthetopandfront,andIdragthepillowsinsidesowe
cangetcomfortable.Orascomfortableasaguymysizecangetinaspacethissmall.

Westretchoutonthefloor,Sam’sheadonmyshoulderaswelieinthedark.
“YouPricesareweirdos,”Samsays.
“We’reinthetruthfort.Youcan’tlie.”
“That’stheGod’shonesttruth.”
“Youmademedanceinanakedcircle.”
Samgiggles,thesoundsoothingmyworries.Ihatefeelingherslipaway.
“Prettysureyouchosetodothatallbyyourself.Plus,what’sreallygoingtohappenifIdon’ttellthe

truth?”

“You’llgetaflattire.Ormaybeabirdwillpooponyourhead.”
“I’mnotakid.Idon’tbelieveinbadluck.”
TheroofofourfortiscloseenoughtomyfacethatallIseeisblack.AsIstare,thedarknessbeginsto

takeformandshape.I’mwaitingherout,because—deepdown—weallbelieveinbadluck.AndI
believeshecaresaboutme.

Finally,“Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”sheasks.
Iputmyhandonherfaceandturnittowardmine.Itdoesn’tmatterthatallIseeisheroutline.I’ve

memorizedthefullnessofherlips,theslightupturnofhereyes.Theexactshadeofherskin.

“WhathappenedinLA?”
“Imissedyou.”
“Imissedyou,too.”
Sheshakesherheadandpullsaway.“No.ImeanImissedyouthewholetime.AllIcouldthinkabout

washowyouwouldneverseemyapartmentorwhereIwenttoschool.Ormeetmyfriends.”

“Youweresupposedtobehavingfun,”Isay.
“Iknow.Itriedtoshakeoffmypitypartybygoingoutwithclassmates.Itworkedalittle.Butnot

enough.”Sheputsherhandsoverherface.“Man,Isoundlame.Nothingeverchanges.”

Ipullherhanddown.“You’renotlame.Thewholetimeyouweregone,Isleptwithextrapillowson

yoursideofthebed.”

Mybodygoesnumbatthatadmission.HowdidIletitgettothepointthatshehadasideofthebed?If

Istartcountingthewaysshe’salreadycreptintothishouse,intomylife,thenumbersaren’tgoingtoadd
upinmyfavor.ThisisexactlywhatIwastryingtoavoid—commitments,expectations,chains.

“Ican’taffordyou,”shesays.“Thepricewillbetoohigh.”
Thathurtslikehell,butI’mnotgoingtopushtheissue.She’ssmarttoputsomedistancebetweenus.

It’swhatIshouldhavebeendoingallalong.ButnowI’mnotsurehowtoputthegeniebackinthebottle.

“Wehavetwentydaysleft,”Isay.
“Youcountingdown?”sheasks,tryingtomakeajoke.
Toobadit’snotfunny.
“Yes.Butifyouwanttoendthingsnow,Iunderstand.”
“Aren’twejusttorturingourselves,draggingitout?”
“Nodaywithyouistorture.”
Sheturnsintomeandholdsmetight.Ilovethefeelofherarmsaroundme,likeshehastotryextra

hardtoreach.

“IwantyoutobetherewhenIgraduate.Isthatselfish?”

“No,”Isay.“Iwanttobethere,too.”
“Twentydays,then.”Shesoundsdejected.
Idon’tfeelanybetterthanshedoes.So,Imakelovetoherinthefort,becauseit’sthemosttruthful

thingIcando.

Chapter23:Sam

7DaysLeft

“Doesthisdressmakemyasslookbig?”Ieyeballmyprofileinthemirror,inspectingthewaythebright
bluefabricofmydressclingstomyrear.

Lizziepursesherlipsasshelooksmeupanddown.“Yep.Liketwojuicysummerpeaches.”
“Excellent.”
Lizziehighfivesme.“Younervousaboutmeetingeveryone?”
Itrytostopmyeyeroll.“Canyoublameme?BasedonwhatI’veseensofar...”
AllofJeff’scoworkersandclientswillbeatthisparty.Let’shopemymouthdoesn’tgetaheadofmy

brain,andthatIdon’thavetoresuscitateanyonetonight.

“Justsmileandnodandeatalltheamazingfood.”
Lizziefidgetswithmyhair,andIlether.SometimeswhenI’mwithLizzieIgetaglimpseofwhatI’ve

missedoutonbynothavingasisterorbrother.IfImarriedJeff,Lizziewouldbemysister.Icrushthat
thoughtsohardthatmyneckgoestensefromthestrain.

“Mybrotherisgoingtowethispantswhenheseesyouinthisdress,”Lizziesays,pullingmefromthe

edgeofameltdown.

“That’sthegoal.”
ItremindedmeofJefftheminuteItriediton—conservativeinthefront,almostnonexistentinthe

back.Alittlesafe,alotexciting.

Lizzieissmiling,butherthoughtsareelsewhere,andherexpressionsisshuttered.
“What’swrong?”
Shelooksaway.“Nothing.”
Ipullgentlyonherblondponytail.“Spillit.”
“Whatareyoutwodoing?What’stheplanhere?”
Icrossmyarms.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Iunderstandexactlywhatshemeans,andsheknowsit.ButthisisthelasttopicIwanttotalkabout.
“You’regraduatinginaweek.You’vebeenspendingeverynighttogether.Andnowyou’rejustgoing

toleteachothergo?”Shegrabsmybrushoffthedresserandfiddleswithit.

“Wehaveto.Youknowthat.”
Lizzie’sscowlmakesherlooklikeanangrytoddler.“Idon’tknowthat.Youcouldmakeitwork

somehow.”

“Lizzie...”
“Iknow.Neitherofyoubelieveyouwantacommitment—probablybecauseyou’rebothscared.ButI

hatethis.You’reindenialabouthowmuchit’sgoingtohurt.Youbothare.”

Aburninglodgesinmychest,butIpushthepainaway.“Thenletusbeindenial.Letusenjoythetime

wehavelefttogether.”

Lizzienods,defeated.“Idon’twantyoutobeunhappy.”
“Iknow.”

Shethrowsthebrushdownandpullsmeinforahug.“Okay.Thengoblowhismind.”

Itdoesn’tliterallyblowhismind,butthedressdoesmakeJeffgoalittlestupidwhenheseestheback.He
keepsrunninghishanddownmybareskinlikehecan’thelphimself.Creditcarddebt—totallyworthit.

“Wow,thisplaceissocool,”Isay,thePresidiostretchedoutaroundus.
Jeff’sworkpartyisintheLogCabinbuilding,whichisexactlythat.Itusedtobepartofthearmy

post,butnowthePresidioisanationalpark.Weathered,exposedbeamsrunthelengthoftheroom,while
candlesflickeringlassjamjarsonsturdywoodtables.Thereisalargedancefloor,wherepeopledance
tolivemusic.

Butit’stheoutsidethatstealstheshow,becauseinthedistancearethestar-brightlightsofSan

Francisco.Theeveningisjustwarmenoughtomingleoutsideandenjoythebreezecomingoffthebay.

Jeffwrapshisarmaroundme,keepingmetoasty.
“Hey,Tyler,”Jeffsays,asagood-lookingmiddle-agedmanapproachesus.Thisguycouldbeinone

ofthoseerectionads,whereattractive,richoldcouplesstrollhandinhandonthebeach—theirjeans
rolledupatthecuffs.Shutitdown,girl.

“Gladyoumadeit.IwantyoutomeettheguysfromQualify.”Tylerturnstome.“Sorrytodiveright

intoworktalk.”

“Thisismygirlfriend,Sam,”Jeffsays,hishandmovingtomylowerback.Thatlittlegesture,

combinedwithhisuseoftheword‘girlfriend’makesmybraingolightsoutforasecond.

“Pleasuretomeetyou,”ImanagetosayasTylertakesmyhand.
“Pleasure’sallmine.Jeff’soneofourbest.Utah’slosswasourgain.”
“Youdon’tneedtosellme,”Jefflaughs.“Samismysister’sbestfriend.Shealreadyknowstheugly

details.”

TylerwinksatmeandturnsbacktoJeff.“You’reabraveman.Speakingofwhich,Ineedtogofind

mywife.She’stalkingtoCarter’swife,andthosetwocangetcrazy.”

“Well,he’sacharmer,”IsayasTylermaneuverstowardabeautifulfifty-somethingbrunetteinared

dress.She’sViagraadmaterial,forsure.

“There’sareasonhe’ssosuccessful.He’sniceashellbutalsobrilliant.”Jeffpullsmeclosertohim.

“Youdevelopingathingforoldermen,Samantha?”

Ilikewhenhecallsmethat,becauseit’swhatheusuallycallsmeinbed.Hetotallyknowsit,too,

whichiswhyhe’sgivingmesexyeyes.Itfeelsalotwarmerunderthisdress.

“I’malreadywithanolderman.”
Hesqueezesmywaist.“Brat.”
“Longtimenosee,”avoicebehindmesays.
It’sEli,withRebeccaintow.I’mrelievedtoseetheseparticularfamiliarfaces.
Rebeccastraightensthestrapofhershortsilverdress.“Canyoublameherafterthatshitshowin

Tahoe?”

Eli’sbeenaskingustogooutwiththemsincewegotback.I’mnotavoidingthembecauseofhowthe

tripwent.Ijustfeelbadmakingcouple’sfriendswhenJeffandIaren’tarealcouple.

Thedancefloorisfullbythetimewegetbackinside.IseeRajivandAlyssaoutthere,rightnextto

Keller.He’sdancingcrotchtocrotchwithablondeinastraplessdressthat’sheldupbyapairofgrade-A
hootersandaprayer.SheseemsrightupKeller’salley—almostliterally—andIdoamentalhighfive
withAndreaforgettingthatmonkeyoffherback.

Speakingofwhich,Andreaisatthebuffettable,whichiswhereIneedtobe.

WhenJeffgetsengrossedinadiscussionwithaclient,Imakemyescape.ThenIdowhatLizzietold

meandgetwaytoomuchfood.IfigurethenumberofspringrollsI’meatingisjustbetweenme,the
caterers,andmycreator.

“Hi,Sam.”Andreasays.
Herhairisinaperfectbun,herlongwhitegownspotless.IfIworewhite,itwouldlooklikea

JacksonPollockwithinanhour.

“Thisisquiteaspread.”Itakeonemorespringrolltobesafe.
“Yeah.Lotsofbusinessgetsdoneatthesethings,sotheygoallout.”
IstareatJeffasheschmoozeswithayounghipsterguywho’sprobablyamillionaire.Jeff’snotvery

animatedashetalks.Instead,heleansinwithcompletefocus.Helooksgoodinhisbluesuit,withthe
crispwhiteshirtunderneath.Hisshoulderslookwider,hiswaistnarrower.

AsIstarttoconjurenaughtyboardroomfantasies,InoticeAndreaisstaringatKeller,who’sgrinding

onthedancefloorwithhishandsininterestingplaces.

“Classy,”Andreasays,shakingherhead.
“Yeah.Nicethingis,shewon’thavetogetamammogramforawhile.”
“WhatthehellwasIthinking?”Andreacovershermouthasshelaughs.Herlaughterturnsdesperate,

though,andshestartstoshake.

“Youokay?”
Shepatsherlipswithhernapkin.“Yeah.I’mfine.I’msorry,bytheway.Forgettinginyourfacethe

nightKellerwenttothehospital.Ididn’tknowyouwerepre-med.”

“Noworries.Iwasmostlyfakingitanyway.”
Sheshakesherhead.“Youwerenot.JeffsaidyougotintoUCLA.That’simpressive.”
“Thanks.”
IshouldprobablyhateAndrea,butit’snotherfaultshewantsJeff.Whowouldn’t?Except,onceI’m

outofthepicture,what’stostopherfromgettinghim?Nothing,that’swhat.

Isetdownmyplate,thespringrollssuddenlyinedible.
AsIheadbacktoJeff,Kellerblocksmyway.
“Heythere,Steff.”
Igivehimthewidestsmilepossible.“Hi,Terry.”
“Youknowdamnwellwhatmynameis.”
“Andyouknowmine.Probablyhardtoforgetthegirlwhoslappedyouseveraltimesinonenight.”
“Ionlyrememberthefirstone.Andbarely.”
“That’snotanexcuse.”
Heshrugs,hisslickhairbrushingagainsthisshoulder.“Wasn’tmakingone.You’retoouptight.”
Hescansmybody,andIreflexivelycrossmyarms,whichisannoying.
“WhatcanIdoforyou,Keller?”
Hiseyesarestillroaming.“Nothing.”
“Thenyoushouldgobacktoyourdate.”
“Yeah,she’ssomething,isn’tshe?Butshe’snotpermanent.BecauseI’mmovingup,justlikeyour

man.”HegesturestoJeff,who’sstillacrosstheroom.“Andwewon’tgetloadeddownwithdead
weight.”

Kellersmilesatme,butit’snastyandtoothylikeashark’s.
“Ifithadn’tbeenformethatnightinTahoe,thedeadweightmighthavebeenyou.Rightaboutnow

I’mwishingIhadletyoudrowninyourownvomit.”

ItipmywateroveranditlandsonKeller’scrotch.Hejumpsback,hisfacefullofthunder.

“Whoops.Lookslikeyoupissedyourself.Again.”
AndthenI’mgone,headingtowardJeff,angrythatI’mthinkingofhimassanctuary.Iwanttogetaway

fromKeller—fromthearroganceandtheentitlement.Theabsolute“I-could-give-a-shit-less-about-
others”mentalitythatsometimesincreaseswithpeople’sincomes.WhenIgo,thiswillstillbeJeff’s
world,andtheywillbethebetterforit.BecausehewillneverbeaKeller.Hewillbesomuchmore.

ExceptIwon’tknowhowitallturnsout,becauseIwon’tbeapartofJeff’sstoryanymore.
Ismileandnodtherestofthenight,butI’vemetsomanypeopleIdon’tremembertheirnames,and

myheartisn’tinthesmalltalk.Itfeelslikeeverythingisclosinginonme—thatthisplaceandthese
peoplearekillingpreciousminutes.

“What’sup?”JeffaskswhenIforgettonodintherightplaceduringourconversation—again.
“Nothing.Justdistracted.”
“Wehaven’tevendancedyet.Let’sgettoit,”hesays,takingmyhandandpullingmetothedance

floor.

Hefeelsgoodagainstme—right.Likeweweremoldedtofittogether.Weswaytoaslowjazzsongas

hestrokeshishandsdownmyback.I’llmisshishands,hissmile,thewayhelooksatmelikehe’sexcited
I’mthere.Iwon’tmissthetimesheshakeshisheadwhenIswear,orputshishandsonhishipswhenhe
getsannoyed.

ExceptIwill.I’llmissthat,too.Becausesomeoneelsewillbeatthereceivingendofhis

disapproval,hisaffection,andhisannoyance,andI’llbeinLA,studyingalldayandnight,goingaftermy
dream.Alone.Again.

Iwanttocry—knowIwillanyminute,infact.Anddammit,Idon’tcryoften,soIthinkI’veearnedit.

Ipullbackandexcusemyselftogocryinthebathroomalone.ButwhenI’malmostthere,ahandgrabsmy
elbowandstopsme.

Jeffspinsmearound.“Tellmewhat’swrong.”
Iopenmyeyeswidertostopthetears.I’llbedamnedifIcrynow.“Nothing.”
“Likehell.”Hetakesmyfaceinhishands.“Youareaterribleliar.It’soneofthethingsIloveabout

you.”

Idrawinabreath,butit’snouse.Ateartracksdownmycheek.“Don’t.”
Hewipesmytearawaywithhisknuckle.
“There’sneverenoughtime,”hesays,finallycatchingon.
Inod,becauseIcan’tgetwordsout.ButwhatcouldIsaytomakethisbetter,anyway?
Hetakesmyhand.“Let’sgetoutofhere.”
“Youneedtostay.”
“We’vebeenherelongenough.C’mon.”
Jeffleadsusout,makingsuretosaygood-byetoTylerontheway.Wedriveinsilence,Jeffholding

myhandtheentireway.Wegettohishouseandhestilldoesn’tsayaword.Instead,weslipoffourshoes
andclimbtheladdertotheloft.

Thenhefillsthesilence.Theunzippingofadress.Ajackethittingthefloor.Theraspoffingers

coastingovermycheek.

“Youwerethemostbeautifulwomanintheroom,”hewhispers,asheholdsme.
Justanembrace,nothingmore.
Iwillmissthismostofall.

Chapter24:Jeff

LastDay

Myfavoriteladiesaregraduatingtoday—mysisterandmygirlfriend.

Excepttomorrow,Samwon’tbemygirlfriendanymore.Andthat’sunacceptable.
It’shardtoknowhowlosingsomeonewillaffectyouuntilthey’regone,butItryanyway.Thecrater

thatshe’llleaveishuge—liketheonethatwipedoutthedinosaurs.Noonetomakearunningcommentary
whileI’mtryingtowatchamovie.Nosilky,darkhairskimmingthroughmyfingers.Nosmartassforcing
metolaughatmyselfwhenI’mbeingtoostiff.

Whointheirrightmindputsanexactexpirationdateonarelationship?ExceptIwasn’tinmyright

mind.Iwasburnedoutonpassionless,long-termrelationships.AndIwantedSambad,worsethanIeven
knew.

Forsomeridiculousreason,Ithoughtinninetydayswe’drunourcourse.That,likealltheothergirls

I’vebeenwith,I’drealizeIwasinarut.Thatshewasn’twhatIwanted,andIwasgoingthroughthe
motionsasIalwaysdo.

Obviously,Iwasamoronofepicproportions.
AndnowIcan’tgoandshecan’tstay,andneitherofuswantstotryandmaintainarelationshipwith

someonewho’shundredsofmilesaway.So,weareatanend.ButIhavetobelieveIcanconvinceherto
keepseeingmeuntilsheleavesinJuly.We’dbestupidnottograballthetimewehavelefttogether.

Andthenwhat?thevoiceinmyheadasks.
Backtofocusingonwork,backtoserious,backtoboring.Becauseit’snotonlySamthat’sexciting.

WhenI’mwithher,I’mmorefunbydefault.Withouther,mydayswillbebleaker,mynightswillbe
emptier.

ButtodayisaboutherandLizzie,somyfeelingsdon’tfactorintoit.
IgetatextfromJudeexplainingwhereheisintheaudience.Mercifully,hegottoSpartanStadium

earlytosaveseats—alotofthem.BecausewhatLizziedoesn’tknowisthatIflewmywholefamilyout
heretoseehergraduate—bothofmyparents,andourthreeotherbrothers.

DadinsistsondrivingMomtothegraduationinhisrentalcar,ofcourse,andItaketheboys—David,

Carson,andMichael.Weallmeetintheparkingareaandnavigatethroughthehordesofpeopleflowing
intothestadium.

“Thereareasmanypeoplehereasliveinourwholetown,”Davidsays.
“Thecrowdshavebeenabigadjustment,”Iadmit.
“Howdoyougetanythingdonehere?”Dadgrumbles,tuggingatthecuffsofhisjacket.Heprobably

hasn’twornonesincemygraduation.

“Carl,stopgriping,”Momsays,lookingprettyinapurpledress.I’vealwaysbeenenviousthatLizzie

gotMom’sgreeneyes.“AndthankJeffforflyingusheretoseeourlittlegirlgraduate.”

That’sahugeask.Gettingmydadtoadmitheneedshelpislikeaskinghimtoswallowglass.But

Dad’sjobinmanufacturinghasneveraffordedhim,orourfamily,manyextras,andthecostofthistrip
wouldhavebeenahardship.

Dadnodsandpatsmeontheshoulderwithoneheavy-dutyhand.“YouknowIappreciateit.”
Iswallowthelumpinmythroat.Whatisitaboutthismanthathasalwaysheldsuchpoweroverme?

OnenicewordfromhimandIgetchokedup.

“Youdoingokayouthere?”heasksaswewalk.
“Yeah.Imissyouguys.Butit’snicehavingsomespace.”
Hislipsstayclosedwhenhegrins.“Icanunderstandthat.WhydoyouthinkIlivedsofarfromyour

grandparents?”

IspotJude’selevatedheadpeekingoverthetopofthecrowd,andwefightourwaythroughtherow

tojoinhim.Sam’sparentsarethere,alongwithAngelandotherfriends.Betweenus,wetakeupmostofa
longrow.

Thecheeringasthegirlscrossthestageisdeafening,especiallywhenJudemakesliberaluseofhis

airhorn.Lizzielooksoutatusasshecrossesthestage,butprobablycan’tseepasttheglareofthesun.
Sam’sinonthesecret,though.

Andthen,there’smygirl.Crossingthestagelikesheownsit,herheadheldhigh,flashingtheaudience

apeacesign.IlookoverandseeDivinawipingatearfromJoe’seye.

It’samadhousetryingtogettothegirlsaftertheceremony,butwefinallymanageit.WhenLizziesees

everyone,shedropshercaponthegroundandcoversherface.Momgrabsherandhugsher,andLizzie
“loseshershit,”asSamwouldsay.WhenLizziegetstome,shestartshittingmeontheshoulder,hard.

“Youdidthis,”shesays,tearsinhereyes.“Youjerk.”Andthenshehugsme.
IseeSamwatchinguswithamelancholysmileonherface,soIgooverandscoopherintomyarms.
“Therearesomanyofyou,”shewhispers.“NotliketheDuggarsoranything.Butsortoflikethe

BradyBunch.”

“Ihavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout,butcongratulations.”
AndthenIkissherinfrontofherparentsandmine,andsureenough,mydadliftshiseyebrowatme

aswe’releaving.Thereisatonofmeaningsinthatgesture—allofwhichIignore.

Judewantedtothrowahugepartyforthegirls,andaswespillinsidehishouse,Iseehehasoutdone

himself.Thereisahugebanneronhisfrontdoor,colorfulballoonsandflowersstrewnthroughoutthe
place,andaheapofcateredMexicanfoodonthetable.

Inthekitchen,JudeisbusygropingLizzie,asshetriestothankhimforallhiswork.
“I’msoproudofyou,baby,”hesays,andthenLizziegivesupthefightandkisseshim.
“MomandDadarerightbehindme.”Isay,loudenoughforthelovebirdstohear.
LizzieungluesherselffromJude’sbodyandsmoothsdownherdress.
“Thisisaniceplaceyouhavehere,Jude,”mydadsayswhenhewalksin.
Thepraisesurprisesme.JudeandLizzie’svisittoUtahduringspringbreakmusthavegonebetterthan

Ithought.

JudeshakesDad’shand.“Thankyou,sir.”
“Sir?”IwhispertoSam.
“Yourdadisscary,”shewhispersback.
True.Mydadisn’tatallguy,orabigguy,buthe’saseriousguy.Andyouknowbylookingathimthat

he’snevertakenanyone’scrapinhislife.Exceptformymom’s,ofcourse.

Speakingofwhich,Momhasbeenavoidingme.Shewoulddenyitevenundertorture,buthereye

contacthasbeennoticeablyabsent.

ShebeamsatSam,though,hersmilesomuchlikeLizzie’s.“I’msohappytofinallymeetyou.”
“Me,too,”Samsays,steppingintomymom’soutstretchedarms.
MomandSampairoff,chattingnonstop,butthewholetime,Mom’slookingatmeoutofthecornerof

hereye,probablyassessingandanalyzingourrelationship.

EspeciallywhenSammentionsshe’sleavingformedschoolsoon.
Thecuriouslookscontinueoutsideasweeat.Sam,Lizzie,Jude,andIareatatablewithbothsetsof

parents—thankstomybrotherDavid,whoditchesme.

“Lizzie’sfriendsarehot.WhywouldIwanttositnearyou?”hesays,headingtoatablefilledwith

Angelandabunchofothergirls.

Theyarecute,butwhenDavidgetsthere,theygivehimthecoldshoulder—probablybecausehesaid

somethingstupid.So,atleastthere’sthat.

Angeldoesn’tpayanyattentiontohimeither.Instead,sheisleaningreallyclosetoagirlI’venever

seenbefore,hangingonhereveryword.

“WhendidyousayyouweremovingtoLA?”MomasksSam,breakingmytrainofthought.
I’mnotsurewhenmymothermadeithermissioninlifetoseememarriedandsettled.Afterthe

pregnancyscare,MomgotthisirrationalfearthatIwasnotgoingtobeabletocommitandgiveherthe
grandchildrenshe’shopingfor.Andsomehowshe’sconvincedherselfthatit’swithinherrightstodictate
mychoices.Maybethatwasherwayofgrievingthegrandchildshelost.Oratleastthat’swhatItell
myselfsoIdon’tkillher.

“IleaveinJuly,”Samsays,hervoicesubdued.
Momgivesmethesideeyeagain,soItakeanotherbiteofmytaco.
“Seemslikethere’realotofcrazypeopledownthere,”DadsaystoSam.
“Well,Iwasraisedbythesecraziesrighthere,soIthinkI’llbeokay.”
Samgesturestohermomanddad,andmyparents’eyesgowide.ButDivinaandJoelaugh.
“I’mprettysureourgirlcantakewhatevertheyhavetodishout,”Sam’sdadsays.“Jeff,didSamever

tellyouaboutthetimeshehadtobailusoutofjailafterthatprotest?WhatwasitDivina?Iraq?”

Divinakisseshimonthecheek.“No,sweetie.TheOccupyone,Ithink.”
Themuscleinmydad’sjawticks,he’sclenchinghismouthsotightly.Hispoliticscouldbestbe

describedas“Ihaveanarsenalinmyshed”libertarianism.Ifthat.

“Lizzie,wherewillyoubelivingafterschool?”Divinaasks.
Shetakesabiteofhervegetariansofttaco,unawareofthehellshehasjustunleashed.Samtriesto

clearherthroattogetDivina’sattention,butit’sanogo.

Lizzielooksaround,likeshe’ssearchingforanemergencyexitsign.Butthereisonlyalawnand

somebushesthataretoosmalltohidebehind.

“Umm...well,actually,I’mmovinginhere.”
Judesitsupright,likehe’spreparingforattack.
Divinadoesn’tnotice.“Howwonderful.Icouldtellrightawayyoutwowerealovematch.”
Itrytoavoidmyparents’gaze,butmydadisstaringpastmeatJude,andit’sasthoughabulletgrazed

myforehead.

DadignoreseveryoneatthetableandspeaksstraighttoJude.“Ithoughtwehadanunderstanding.”
Judesetshisnapkindown.“Wedid.Westilldo.”
Lizzie’sfacedarkens,likeacloudpassedoverit.“Anunderstanding?”
Judewhispersinherear,butherexpressiondoesn’tchange.
Sam’sdadlooksbackandforth,gaugingmyparents’displeasure.
“Thekeyhereistocommunicate,”Joesays,turningtomydad.“Carl,maybeyoushouldtellLizzie

howyou’refeelingabouthermovinginwithJudewhenthey’renotmarried.”

It’sasthoughacartoonbubbleishangingoverDad’shead,andinthatbubbleisastickfigureofhim

breakingJoe’sneck.Lizzielooksatme,panicked.

“Well,Ithinkit’swonderful,”Divinachimesin.“They’resoinlove.Andtheirphysicalconnectionis

incredible.Suchpassion.”

Samstandsup,almostknockingmyglassover.“Mom,Dad,I’vebeenmeaningtoaskyousomething.

Canyoucomewithmeinside,please?”

“That’sfine,kitten,butIthinktheycouldreallyusesomehelptalkingthisthrough,”Joesaysashe

takesDivina’shand,andtheyleavethetable.

Ican’thelpit;Istarttolaugh.AndonceIstart,Ican’tstop.Samshootsmeadirtylook.ThenLizzie.

ThenJude.Idon’tcare;Ilovemysister,butI’msohappythisisherbattleandnotmine.

“Jeffrey,that’snothelping,”mymomsays,herfacegrim.
Iexcusemyselfsotheycanhashitout.
“Thanksalot,ass,”LizziewhispersasIleave.ButIknowshe’ddothesameinmyposition.
Myparentswillsurvive.Ifmydaddidn’thaveaheartattackwhenIgotLaceypregnant,he’lllive

throughthis.Maybesomeday,he’llrealizethatnoamountofsteely-eyedwillcanforcehischildren’s
livestobeexactlyashehoped.

IfindSamsittingbyherselfonthefrontporch.Icomeupnexttoher,thewoodcreakingwhenIbend

downtosit.WhenIturntoher,sheblowsanoisemakeratme.Ipullitoutofhermouthandkissherlips
—softandfullasalways.

“Happygraduation.”
Sheshakesherhead.“Yourfamily.Crazy.Everylastoneofyou.”
“I’veseenyourparentsnaked.I’mgoingtocomebacktothatforaminute.”
Sheholdsherhandsup.“Alright.Truce.”
Shegetsquietandhereyesaresoluminescenttheylookwet.Iswear,Iknowexactlywhatshe’s

thinking.Timeislikeatangibleforce—eachsecondthatticksbyisaweightpullingmeandSamunder.
Thenagain,awarenessoftimeisalwaysexcruciating.

Irunonefingeroverhercheek.“Canyouescapeyourparentslater?”
“Yeah.They’reheadingbacktoSantaCruzaftertheparty.You?”
“Bookedthemallinahotel.BecauseI’magenius.”
Shetakesmyhand.“Well,thenlet’sgetbacktotheparty.IpromisedAngelyouwoulddancewithher

atleastoncebeforeweleave.”

Butonourwayin,Momwaylaysmeinthelivingroom.
“Iwashopingtotalktoyou.”Shehastolookupatmewhenwe’refacetoface.Strangethattherewas

atimewhenthereversewastrue.

“I’llbeinthebackyard,”Samsays,givingusprivacy.
NotsureIwantit,butlookslikeI’mgettingitanyway.
“What’sup?”IputmyhandsonMom’sshouldersandgivethemasqueeze.
Shelooksdown,butnotbeforeIseethesadnessinhereyes.Mygutclenches.
“Iwantedtoknowhowyou’redoing.Ifyou’reokay.”
“Italkedtoyoulastweek,”Isay,mytonedefensive.
“Forfiveminutes.”
Iwanttoraisemyvoice,butIknowthat’stheguilttalking.Iforcemyselftocalmdown.
“I’vebeenreallybusy,Mom.Youknowthat.”
“Icouldletthatliepass,butIdon’twantto.We’vebarelyspokeninthelastfourmonths.AndIwant

toknowwhatIdid.”

“Youdidn’tdoanything.”
Momplopsdownonthecouchwithaheavysigh.

I’vedisappointedher,andthatkillsme.Allmylife,I’vejustwantedtobegoodenoughforher.ButI

spentsolongtryingtoliveuptomyparents’expectationsthatIforgottodefinemyown.Iwanttoliveon
myowntermsnow,andMom’smanipulationmakesmeangry.

Ifshewantsthetruth,Ioweittoher.
“Thatrightthere.”Ipointtoher.“Whatyou’redoingnow.That’swhyIhaven’tcalled.”
Herheadturnssharplyandhershoulderssquareup.“What?”
“Theguilt.It’sconstantandnever-ending.WhywouldIcall?”
Hereyesarewide.“Idon’tguiltyou.”
Ilaugh.“Areyouserious?”
“SoI’mthebadguyhere?JustbecauseIwantyoutobeagoodperson?”
Myteethareclenchingsohard,myjawaches.“Iamagoodperson.I’msorryifyoudon’tagree.”
Shestandsup,herblondhairswingingaroundhershoulders.“Howcanyousaythat?Ihavealways

beenproudofyou.”

“OnlywhenIdowhatyouandDadwantmeto.Ifnot,youshoveyourdisappointmentatmeuntilIfall

inline.It’smakingmecrazy.”

Lizziepokesherheadin.Whenshehearsmyraisedvoice,shefreezesandbacksoutoftheroom.But

notbeforegivingmeacomfortingnod,whichmakesmefeelguiltyforlaughingearlier.

“You’retalkingaboutthebaby.HowwetriedtopressureyouintomarryingLaceyevenafter...”

Mom’svoicedropstoapainedwhisper.

“Yes.”
Sheworriesherbottomlipwithherteeth.“Whenshegotpregnant,Iwassoscaredforyou—foryour

future.Butthenyousaidyouwantedtomarryher.”

“Onlybecauseofthebaby.”
“Iknow.Butwhenshemiscarried,Iwantedtheretobesomethingleft.Somethinggood.”
Mom’seyesareshining,andIknowshe’shurtingforme—justlikethetimeIwastwelve,andIwas

sosickIwashallucinating.Sohardtostaymadatthewomanwhoraisedyou.

Ipullherintomyside.“Igetit,Mom.Butthosechoiceshavetobemyown.”
Shenodsbutstayssilent.
“Andyouhavetostopmeddlinginmylovelife.”
“Youhavealottooffertherightgirl.”
“Butit’suptometodecidewhothatgirlis.Sostoppushing.Stopcallingyourfriends.”
Mom’sfacetenses.“I’lltry.”
I’veseenthatlookahundredtimes,alwayswhenshe’sforcedtoagreetosomethingshe’snothappy

about.IthoughtmystubbornnesscamefromDad,butImighthavebeenwrongaboutthat.

“Don’tbemad,oldlady,”Itease.
“Youngenoughtotakeyouon,”shesayswithoutmissingabeat.
Ifoldherintoahug,andshesqueezesmeextratight.Herarmsarestrongforsuchaslimwoman.
“I’vemissedyou.You’remyfirstborn,”shesays,asthoughthatexplainsit.SomedayImight

understandwhatshemeans.

“I’vemissedyou,too.”
“Right.You’vebeentoobusywithSamtomissanyone.Yougoingtobeokaywhensheleaves?”
Ithrowmyhandsup.“Didn’twejusttalkaboutthis?”
“Ionlyaskedaquestion.”
IseewhereLizzielearnedherinnocentdoe-eyedact.
“Well,ifyouhavetoknow,I’mgoingtomissthehelloutofher.”

Momrunsonehandovermyhair,likesheusedtodowhenIwaslittle.“I’msorry.”
“That’sit?Noadvice?”
Shelaughs.“Yeah,yeah,I’mworkingonit.”

MomandDadareslowdancing,perfectlyinrhythmaftersomanyyearsofpractice.

“Don’tseethatoften,”Lizziesays,sidlingupnexttomeonthebackpatio.
She’sright.MomandDad’srelationshipalwaysseemedmessy.Lotsoffightingandgriping.Onetime,

Momevenleftforafewdays.Shetoldusitwasbecauseshewashelpingoutafriend,butweknewshe
neededthebreakfromDad.Butoutonthedancefloor,they’reinsync.

Itakeasipofmybeer.“Nope.Butit’snice.”
“They’restillcrazyabouteachother.Afterallthistime.”
IstudyDad’sfaceashelooksatMom.Thewayhestrokesherback.Ican’tseeMom,butherarms

arethrownaroundDad’sneck,herbodypressedtohis.

“Yeah.Theyare.”
LizzieandIdrinkinsilence.
“Hey,whatdidDadmeanabouthavinganunderstandingwithJude?”
Iturntoher.“Ithinkyouknow,babygirl.”
“HetoldDadthathe’sgoingtomarryme,didn’the?”Lizzielookslikeshe’shavingtroublecatching

herbreath.

“Doesthatsurpriseyou?”
Sheexhales.“No.ButIthoughtmaybesomeday.Yearsfromnow.Forhimtoalreadyhavetalkedto

Dad?That’scrazy.I’monlytwenty-three.”

“Heiscrazy.Aboutyou.Andhe’llwait.Aslongasyouneedhimto.Lookatthepoorbastard.”I

pointmybottleinJude’sdirection.

He’stalkingtoSam’smom,buthiseyeskeepdartingtoLizzie.
Shelaughs.“Alwayssointense,thatone.”
“Youpickedhim,notme.”
WhenLizziecatchesJude’seye,hegoesstillandhismouthliftsatthecorners,likehejustreceived

goodnews.

“AndI’msoluckyIdid.It’swhatmostpeopledreamabout.”SheturnshergazetowardSam,who’s

dancingwithherdad.“I’dbeafooltoletthatgo.It’sagift,havingsomeoneloveyou.Lovingthemin
return.”Shelooksupatme,hereyesfilledwithchallenge.

“YousoundlikeMom.It’sbadenoughhavingherlectureme.”
“Isthatwhatyouwerefightingabout?”
“Basically.”Ileanagainstthedeckrailing.
“Well,shemaybetoohardonyou,butshemeanswell.Shewantsyoutofindsomeonetolove.”
“Loveisn’talwaysenough,Lizzie.”
“Butitcanbe.”Sheputsonehandonmyforearmandsqueezes.“Loveisagift,butthatdoesn’tmean

youdon’thavetoworkforit.”

SheleavesmeandheadstoJude,drawntohimbysomethinginvisiblebutreal.
IlookatSamagain.Thewayshesmilesatherdadastheydance—appreciativeofhimdespitetheir

differences.Shelooksupathisface,andthewhitelightsstrungthroughoutthegardenreflectonherskin.
Herloveforhimisclear.AndIrecognizethatsmile,becauseit’sthesameonesheuseswithme.

Theforceofthismomentissopowerfulthatmylegsgooutfromunderme,andIcollapseintoadeck

chair.

IsitandwatchSamuntilshefinallycomesoverandasksmetodance.Istillcan’tspeak,soIholdmy

handoutinsteadandshetakesit.It’swarmandsoftandreal.Dancingwithherisalmostpainfulbecause
it’stoomuch,andIknowallthis—feeling—willonlybeeasedifIcanbenexttoher.

Whichendsupbeingtrue.Iwastenotimeatmyhouseremovingthebarriersbetweenus.Feelingher

heartbeatagainstmine—secondsandminutestickingaway.

“Lookatme,”IsayasIenterher,warmthencasingme.
ShedoesasIask,hereyestrustingandwideopen.
“Iwantmoretime.”
“Oh,don’t,please,”shesays,butshedoesn’tletgoofmeasIthrust.
Imightbebreakinghertrust,butIcan’thelpit.Thedesperationisclawingmefromtheinsideout.
“Iknowyoucan’tstay.Butuntilyouleave,letmebewithyou.”
“Youpromised.”Tearspoolinhereyes,butherlegsstaywrappedaroundme.Sheholdsmecloser.

Lovesmeharder.

“Please,Samantha.”
Shecapturesmymouth,swallowingwhatIwouldhavesaidnext.That’sokay;maybethiswaythe

wordswillliveinsideher.

Ourbodiestakeprecedenceoverourbattle,andweshattertogether,theworldgoingwhite.
Herhandspushatme,soIrolltotheside.
Sheturnsonherside,awayfromme.“Youbastard.”
“Whyshouldn’tweuseeveryminutewehave?”Iputmyhandonhershoulder,butshestiffensunder

mytouch.

“SoIcanspendthefirstmonthsofmynewlifefixatingonyou?Orworseyet,getdesperateenoughto

tryalong-distancethingandthenwatchitdieslowly?Iwasreadytogiveupmydreamoncebefore.I’m
notdoingthatagain.”

Angerburnsthroughme,andit’snotanemotionI’mallthatfamiliarorcomfortablewith.Iturnher

towardme.

“SoIwasapitstopalongtheway?”
Shethrowsherhandsup.“Youweretheonewhosuggestedthiswholestupididea.Ninetydays,no

pressure.”

“Iknow,becauseIwasanidiot.Butthingshavechanged.Don’tImattertoyou?”
Furyseepsintoherexpression.“Obviously.That’swhyIwouldneveraskyoutodosomethingthat

wouldmakeyoumiserablejusttomakemyselfhappyforanothermonthortwo.”

Shegetsupandslipsherdresson,practicallytearingthestrapassherushes—eagertogetawayfrom

me.Shehasarighttoheranger.

“Ithoughtitwouldmakebothofushappy.Tohavemoretimetogether.”
Shewhipsaround.“That’sjustmoretimeformyhearttogetbroken.”
Ihangmyhead,becauseshe’sright.Imadeherapromise.Noextensions.Nofallinginlove.
Samscrubsatherface,roughlybrushingawaytearsshe’sembarrassedtobeshedding.Thenshebolts

downtheladder.

Igetoutofbedandthrowonmyshorts,hurryingtocatchher.Igrabherarmasshethrowsopenthe

frontdoor.

“Hey.Don’tleaveitlikethis.Please.”
Shebitesherlip,stilltryingtodelaytheemotion.Shenods,soIpullherintoatighthug.
“HaveagreatlifeinLA,”Isay,kissingherontopofherhead.Andnowit’smethat’sholding

everythingin—holdingmyselftogether.

Andthenshe’sgone.Ileavethedooropen,imaginingIcanseeherevenafterIcan’t,lettingthenight

airswallowme.

Chapter25:Sam

7DaysWithoutHim

Ifsomeoneweretowearthesamepajamasfor—oh,let’ssayseven—daysinarow,wouldtheirskinstart
torot?Excellent.NowIcantellLizzieI’mconductingascientificexperimentthenexttimeshehassles
me.

Oursuitelookslikeahurricanehitit.LizzieispackinguptomoveinwithJude.I’mshovingmyshit

intoboxestotaketomyparents.I’llbelivingwiththemforabitbeforeheadingdowntoLA.

Isortthroughmythings,discoveringthereisn’tmuchtoremindmeof“hewhoshallremain

nameless.”Weweren’ttogetherlong,andsinceweweresupposedlyonlyhookingup,Idon’thavemany
mementos—exceptthestuffedmonkeyhewonformeinReno.Meanwhile,IstillhaveoneofLuke’sold
T-shirts.Ithrowthatinthetrash.

Lizziepeeksin.“Makingprogress?”
Andthenthere’sLizzie—thelivingmemento.Becausethere’salwaysthatsecondwhenshetiltsher

headjustso,ortrailsoffattheendofalaugh,orsayssomethinghedoes.AndI’mthrownbackintomy
miseryalloveragain.

“Doyouwantmetogo?”Lizzielookscrestfallen.Ineveransweredherquestion.
“Comeonin,”Isay,forcingasmile.
ShesitsnexttomeonthebeigecarpetwhereI’msortingthroughmedicaltextbooks.
“Leavingbehindalot,”shesays,pointingtothestack.
“Can’tlugitallwithme.Tryingtotravellight.”
Shegrabsaboxandstartsshovingthebooksin,likeshe’dripthemintwoifshecould.
“Becarefulyoudon’tgetridofsomethingimportant,”shesays,herhandsshakingalittleasshe

reachesformorebooks.

“Look,IknowyouwantthingstoworkoutwithmeandJeff,but...”
“I’mnottalkingabouthim,”shesays,herfacered.Thatusuallymeansshe’stryingnottoget

emotional.“I’mtalkingaboutme,stupid.”

FeelslikeIswallowedarock.“Oh.”
“Wehavesolittletimeleft,andyou’reavoidingme.Andyou’remakingmefeellikeonceyougetto

LA,I’llneverseeorhearfromyouagain.”

Ipasteonasmile.“Well,ifyou’duseFacebook...”
Shegoessilent,slamsmybiologybookdown,andthenleavestheroom.
InthethreeyearsI’veknownLizzie,she’sneverwalkedoutonaconversation.Icancountour

argumentsononehand.Igocoldknowingthatthisfightisallonme.

Isthiswhatit’slikehavingasibling?DoIapproachher?Giveherspace?HardtobelieveI’ve

survivedthislongwithoutpeopleskills.Butthenagain,whenthingsgettough,Iusuallyjustwalkaway.
ButIcan’tdothatwithLizzie.She’snotafriendyouletgoof.

ShelooksupwhenItaponherdoor,butstayssilent.
Icrossonebarefootovertheother.“Yougonnatalktome?”

“Depends.”Shefoldsanothershirtandputsitinhersuitcase,pretendingtobeengrossedinthetask.
“On?”
“Onwhetheryou’regoingtobeasmartass.”
Iinchclosertoher,likeananimalcreepingtowardahumanholdingfoodinitshand.
“Okay.Iwon’tbe.Ipromise.”
“You’regoingtobebusyinLA,”shesays.
Igraboneofhershirtsandstartfolding.“We’llstilltalk.Text.Youcancomeseeme.”
“Thenextdecadeisgoingtobesocrazyforyou.Medschool.Residency.Andthat’samazing.But

someday,I’llbe‘youroldcollegeroommate’andwewon’tevenknoweachother.”

Thethingis,she’sright.That’sprobablywhatgrownupsdo.Change.Grow.Separatefromwhatholds

themtoearlierphasesoftheirlives.Soexciting.Suchadrag.

“Thenwehavetomakesurethatdoesn’thappen.”
Sheshrugshershoulders,unconvinced.
ImetLizzieatthehospitalwhilewewerebothvolunteering.WhenIfirstsawher,shedidn’tmake

muchofanimpression,otherthanlookinglikeshewalkedoffanAbercrombiead.Buttherewasaguy
thatcameinthehospitalthatnight.Someonesaidhewaswearingaweirdleathervestwithzippersand
hooksonit—aBDSM-typething.Andhehadbrokenhispenis.Onenursetoldanother,untilallthe
volunteersknew,too.Hewasthesubjectofridiculeforthatnight—awaytokeepthetiredstaff
entertained.

ButLizziedidn’tlaugh.Instead,sheleanedoverandwhisperedinmyear.“Let’sgobringhimanextra

dessert.”

Lizziewasmygirl-matchmadeinheaven.Kind,curious,andcompletelyindifferenttopartyingand

skankingoutforguys.EvenIknowyoudon’tfindsoulmateslikethatveryoften.

Sadnessoverwhelmsme.“Dammit,Ididn’twanttodothis.”
“Well,that’stoobad.”Shethrowshershirtdownonthebedindisgust.
“Idon’thaveanysisters,Lizzie.You’reascloseasI’mgoingtoget.Sowebetterdamnwellstayin

touch.”

“Idon’thaveanyeither,”shesays,hervoicequivering.“AndI’mnotgoingtoknowwhattodowith

myselfwithoutyou.”

Ileaninandhugher,andwestaytogetherafewmoresecondsmorethanwenormallywould.
“Solet’smakeapact,”Isay.“Anytimewetalk,wepickbackuplikenotimehaspassed.”
Shenods.“Okay,andallbigeventshavetobetextedordiscussedimmediately.”
“AndIgettobeyourmaidofhonorwhenyoumarryhandsome.”
“Shutup,”shesays,finallyreleasingme.
Wemovesomemoreofherclothesintohersuitcase,workingincomfortablesilence.
“Sam,yousureJeffisn’takeeper,too?”
Iclosemyeyesandtryhardnottoseehisface.
“Oh,heis.He’sjustnotminetokeep.”

“Well,likeyoutoldme,thereareotherfishinthesea,orsomeshit.”Marcus’shairisinonelongbraid—
sothatmeanshe’shappytoday.

Ipropmyfeetuponthemetalchairacrossfromme.Thestudentunionhasthemostuncomfortable

furniture.Iknowtheywantittolookmodern,butisittoomuchtoasktowallowincomfort?

“YousuckasbadasIdoatcheeringpeopleup.”

“That’swhywe’reinscience,”hesays.
Itakeasipofmysmoothie.Ihadthemaddchocolateandpeanutbuttertoittocoverthetasteof

healthy.I’lljogitofflater.WheneverIgetbitchythesedays,Lizziehandsmemyrunningshoes.I’vebeen
gettingalotofexerciselately.

“Dude.I’msickwithjealousythatyougettoliveinSoCal.”
IthrowmystrawwrapperatMarcus.“Baylorisanamazingschool,dummy.”
“We’retalkingaboutHouston.”Heholdsbothhandsintheairandmovesthemupanddownasifhe’s

weighingtwoitems.“LA,Houston.LA,Houston.Hmmm.”

“You’lldofine.Aslongastherearewomen,I’msureyou’llgetby.”
“Trueenough.”
IgiveMarcusoneofmytextbooksandsaymygood-byes.He’soneofthelastpeopleIneededtosay

good-byeto,andsuddenlymymovefeelsreal.Nomorehypotheticals;inacoupleofweeksIwillbeon
theroadtoLA,leavingeveryoneIloveherebehindme.Istand,staringoutattheplaza,watchingstudents
comingandgoing.Someofthemarejuststartingtheiradventure.AndI’msosentimentalI’mmaking
myselfill.

WhenIgetbacktothesuite,AngelischattingwithLizzie.Icatchthemjustintime,becauseLizziehas

togettoworkandthey’reheadingout.

“Hangoutwithmeforawhile,”ItellAngel,soshecomesbackinside.
“Lookslikeyou’rebothreadytomove,”shesays,hereyesdartingoverboxes.
“Iguess.”Ikickoffmyflipflopsandcollapseonthesofa.
AngeltoesoffherChucksandsettlesonthecouchnexttome.“Hey,Imeanttotellyouthatmywork’s

throwingabigpartythisweekend.They’repayingsomerappertoperform,therewillbetonsoffood,and
probablylotsofSiliconValleyonepercenters.Youin?”

“Maybe,”Isay,butthere’sa“probablynot”hiddeninsidethere.
“C’mon.Ineedsomeonetobesnarkywith.Icangetyouaplus-oneinvitesoyoucanbringsomeone.”
Withoutwarning,Iburstintotears.Notthegoodkind—whereyousniffanddabdelicatelyatyour

facewithatissue.OnlyLizzieandgirlsinthemoviescrylikethat.No.Igofromzerotofull-blownnasty
cry,whereyournoseclogsimmediatelyandyougaspforbreath.ThankfullyI’mbrown,soatleastIdon’t
turnredandblotchy.

Angel’seyesgowide,asshejumpsupandgrabsatissueforme.“WhatdidIsay?”
“Idon’thaveaplusone.JeffandIareover.”
“Ithoughtthat’swhatyouwanted?”
I’mtoooverwhelmedtospeak,soshepullsmeintoahug.
Sheshakesherhead.“Girl,youandthesepreppymen...”
Thatmakesmelaugh,andthencrysomemore.Iambeyondembarrassed,butatthesametime,it’s

beenawhileincoming.

“He’snotpreppy.He’sperfect.Forme.”
Angellooksskeptical.“Noway.There’sgottobesomethingawfulabouthim.Let’smakealist.”
“Well,heplaysthebanjo.”
“Kindacute,”Angelsays.
“Andhetalksaboutboringfinancestuffalot.”
“Okay.Keepgoing.”
“Andhegetsallmachosometimes,likehewantstoordermetodosomething.”
Angelshakesherhead.“That’shot.”
“Iknow.Thatbastard.”Igrabanothertissue.“Hewassupposedtobepredictable.Weweregoingto

spendafewmonthsshagging,Iwasgoingtobethefun-timegirlthathelpedlightenhimup,andthenwe
weregoingtogoourseparateways.”

“Oh,chica.Youknewthatwasnevergoingtohappen.You’renotevenallthatfun.”Shesmilesatme

andbrushesthehairoutofmyface.“Hesawwhathewantedtosee.Sodidyou.Itwasalljustan
excuse.”

Inod,becauseIknowAngel’sright.“Heaskedformoretime.Ijustcouldn’tdoit.Whatwasthepoint

ofdraggingoutmyheartbreak?He’shere,andIwon’tbe.”

“I’msorryyou’rehurting.Butit’sgoingtobesogreatinLA.Youwon’thavetimetomisshim.”
Ifonlythatweretrue.“It’snotlikeitwassomebigtragedy.Wejusthadagreattimetogether.He’snot

inlovewithme.”

ToobadI’minlovewithhim.

Chapter26:Jeff

10DaysWithoutHer

Canyouplaybasketball?

Jude’stextisunexpected,butnotunwelcome.Mytinystudiofeelslikeatomb,andthereisn’tasingle

cubicinchofitthatdoesn’tremindmeofSam.Ican’tevenlookattheladdertomyloftwithoutfeeling
sick.

Yeah,why?
Getyourassoverhere.

Irollmyeyes.Whataprick.Buthe’savailable,it’sSaturday,andI’mdesperateforsomethingtodo.
“What’sthefreakin’rush?”Iaskhimwhenheopensthedoor.
Judetiltshischinupingreetingandleadsmethroughthehousetothebackyard.
IlookaroundJude’slivingroomandseeLizzie’sinfluenceeverywhere.There’sanorangechairnext

tothecouchthatwasn’ttherebefore,andsomeframedphotoshangingovertheTV;shotsofRyanand
Judewiththeirmomandtheiruncle,andmorerecentpictureswhereit’sjustthetwoofthem.There’s
evenoneofJudeandLizzie.

“Yoursister’sbusy,”hefinallysays,grabbingaball.“Iplayinaleague,butnotonSaturdays,and

mostoftheguysIknowfromworksuck.Thatleavesyou.”

“Noneedtoflatterme.”
Heflashesmeagrinandthentakesoffdownthecourt.
“Letmewarmupfirst,dick,”Isaywithoutmalice.
FeelsgoodtohaveafriendIcantalktrashtoagain.I’mnotcloseenoughyetwithanyoneI’vemet

here.EliandIhangoutsometimes,buthe’sprettyobsessedwithRebeccarightnow,sotheyspendalot
oftimetogether.IkeeptryingtogetBrucetocomeoutforavisit,buthe’sbeentiedup.

JudeandIstartofffriendly,butafterawhile,ourcompetitivestreakskickinandthingsturnuglier.

JudegoesinforalayupandIfoulhim.

“Seriously?”Hebendsoverandholdsontohiskneesassweatdripsfromhisneck.
“You’refourinchestallerthanIam.I’mjustlevelingtheplayingfield.”
“No,whatyou’redoingisworkingagirloutofyoursystem.”
Andhe’scrazyifhethinksIwanttotalkaboutit.“Lizzieshouldkeephermouthclosed.”
Hegrabstwowaterbottlesandthrowsmeonesowecantakeabreather.
“Hatetobreakittoyou,butyou’renotanyhardertoreadthanyoursister.”Hedrinkshalfthebottlein

onego.

Isquirtsomewaterovermyhairandshakeitout.“Webothknewitwastemporary.”
Jude’sicyblueeyessoften.“Whatdoesthatmatter?”
Irubmyforehead,tryingtosnuffouttheheadachethat’scoming.“It’slikeshe’sstillthere,even

thoughshe’snot.Ihearherlaughsometimes,orcatchherscent.ButIcan’ttouchher.Ican’tanswerher
back.IthinkmaybeI’vegonecrazy.”

Judedropsthebasketballonhisfoot.Iguesswe’rebothsurprisedbythatlittlespeech.

“Ohshit,youfellinlovewithher.”
Thenightofgraduation,Icametothesameconclusion.ButIdon’twantittobetrue.
“HowcanIbesure?”Iask.
Judemusthavesomeinsights.HejustwentthroughthiswithLizzie.
Hissmileispained.“Whenyouknow,youknow.”
IrememberSamcomparinglovetoahotstoveyoucouldn’thelpbuttouch.Shewasright.SoisJude.

MylegsaresuddenlyrubberandIplopdownonthecourt.Judejoinsme.

“IkepttellingmyselfitwasimpossiblethatI’dfallforher.”
Judechuckles.“Sowhatareyougoingtodoaboutit?”
“WhatcanIdo?She’sleaving.AndIdon’twanttobetheguydistractingherfromschool.Cheating

heroutofthatexperience.”Itakeadrinkofwater,hopingJudehassomeanswers.“Whatwouldyouhave
doneifthathadbeenLizzie?”

Hislipscurlup,butI’mnotsureyoucancallitasmile.“WhateverIhadto.”
“It’sdifferent.I’mnotsureSamfeelsthesamewayaboutmethatLizziedoesaboutyou.”
Heshrugs.“Maybe,maybenot.Onlyonewaytofindout.”
“Iguess.Butshe’smadeitclearshedoesn’twanttoseeortalktomeeveragain.”
Judestandsupandmotionsmetowardthehouse.
“Wherearewegoing?”
“Inside.Togetyoudrunk.”
SomaybeJudedoesn’thavealltheanswers,butthisisthebestideaI’veheardallweek.

“OurmeetingwithHanoverDXgotmovedtothreeo’clock,”ElisaysonMonday.

LuckilyIhadSundaytorecuperatefromJude.Otherwise,Eli’sboomingvoicewouldhavemademy

teethhurt.

“That’sfine.I’mready.”AsreadyasIcanbetodoapostmortemaboutacompanythatimploded.

Hanoverdidn’tgetFDAapprovalfortheirproduct,soI’mnotsurehowtheirdownfallcouldhavebeen
avoided.

AndreapushespastEliandhandsmeafile.“Mr.Paulsonwantsyoutotakealookatthisbeforethe

meeting.Sorryit’slate.”

Andrea’shandisshaking.Itmatchesherredeyesandblotchynose.She’sbeencrying.
“I’llseeyoulater,”ItellEli.“IneedtotalktoAndreaforaminute.”
“Everythingokay?”IaskheronceEliisgone.
Andreanodsherheadyes—sortoffrantically—butdoesn’tsayanything.Shefoldsherlipsinward,

herbackstraightening.

“Whatisit?”
Shesaysnothing,lookingsolostthatit’spainful.
Istandup.“Andrea...”
Sheputsherhandsup.“Don’t.Youhaveagirlfriend.Shewouldn’twantmecryingonyourshoulder.

Andthat’swhat’sgoingtohappenifyoucomeanycloser.”

“Idon’t.Haveagirlfriend,Imean.Sam’sleaving.Webrokeup.”
Except,wereweeverreallytogether?
“Oh.”Shepushesthefilearoundonmydesk.
“WhatcanIdo?”
Shelooksatmeandsighs.“Doyouhavetimeafterwork?”

Afterthepainofthelasttwoweeks,itfeelsgoodtobeabletohelp.Tobeneeded.
“I’llseeyouatsix.”

“WhenKellerfirsthitonme,Iwasflattered.Sortof.Ialsowasalittledisgusted,becauseIknewhewas
aplayer.Buthewasreallyfunatfirst.Andhewaspersistent.”

We’reatabarafewblocksfromwherewework.Andreadidn’twanttogototheplaceonthecorner

incaseotherpeoplefromworkwerethere.

“Youdon’towemeanexplanation,”Isay,signalingthewaitress.Iordertwoglassesofwine,

becauseIfigurethat’swhatAndreadrinks,butAndreaasksthewaitressforaseltzerwaterinstead.

“IbrokethingsoffrightafterwegotbackfromTahoe.HewassoawfulonthattripIalmostcouldn’t

believehewasthesameperson.Iwasembarrassedforbothofus.”

“Andthat’swhat’supsettingyou?Thebreakup?”Itakeasipofmywine.Notbad.
“I’mpregnant.”
“Holyshit.”Iforcemyselftosetmyglassdowngently.“Sorry.It’sjust...”
“Iknow.Believeme.Ihaven’teventoldmyfamily.They’regoingtobesodisappointedinme.”
Shetakesabiggulpofwater,butthatdoesn’tstophertearsfromfalling.Hersituationistough,and

nothingIsayisgoingtomakeiteasier.

“Whataboutyourfriends?Haveyoutalkedtothem?”
Shegetsdefensive,herchinraisinganotch.“Theydon’tunderstandoragreewithmydecision.To

keepthebaby.Theysaidit’sgoingtoruinmycareer,whichitwill.”

Memoriesrushatmesohardit’slikegettingtackledduringascrimmage.Laceycryinganddesperate,

tellingmeshewashavingmybaby.Mydadtakingmeoutside,tellingmeIhadn’tdonerightbyLacey—
thedisappointmentinhiseyesindelible.Thepale-facedpityofthenurseatthehospitalwhotoldmethe
baby’shearthadstoppedbeating.

Ican’tswallow,soIchokeoutaresponse.“You’resure?”
“Ionlydatedhimafewweeks,butyes.Justmyluck.”Shetriestosmilebutitdoesn’tquitehappen.
“DoesKellerknow?”
“Itoldhimtwodaysago.Youcanimaginehewasdelighted.”
“Well,that’stoodamnbad.”Idon’tknowhowI’mgoingtomakeitanotherdaywithoutdoing

somethingtoKellerthatI’dregret.I’mverygladthatAndreadidn’ttellmethisatwork.

“Ican’tworryabouthimnow.It’sjust...I’msoscaredabouthowI’mgoingtomanagethis.Whatam

Igoingtodo?”

Shelosesthebattlewithhertearsagainandmyinabilitytofixthisforherismakingmecrazy.Iknow

howterrifyingthisfeels—howoverwhelming.Feelinglikeyourlifehasstoppedonadime.Likeagiant
windowhasslammedshutoneverydreamyoueverhad,everychoiceyouweregoingtomake.And
insteadyou’releftwithacrushingresponsibilitythatyou’renotsureyoucanhandle.

Butthere’smorethanthat.EventhoughIhaven’tbeenaparent,Iknowthere’sjoyandhopeandalove

biggerthananythingyou’veeverfelt.Andreahasn’tgottentothosepartsyet,buthopefullyshewill.

Iscootmychaircloserandtakeherhand.“Youcandoit.IfKellerdoesn’tstepuptohelpyou,other

peoplewill.You’renotalone.”

Shepullsmeintoahug,andI’muneasy.Andrea’sheadistoolowonmyshoulder,herhairistoo

light,herbodytooslim.Butthenshecriesalittlemore,soIfocusoncalmingher.

“Thankyou,Jeff,”shesays,pullingbackandwipinghereyes.“I’msorrytodumpallthisonyou.”
“I’myourfriend.Iwanttohelp.”MaybeIcangetherpasttheterrorandtoabetterplace.

Hersmileisgrateful,andthepainthat’sbeensqueezingmyinsidessinceSamlefteasesjustalittle.

Chapter27:Sam

15DaysWithoutHim

“IcameallthewayfromSantaCruzforthis?”

IstareatthepaintsamplestapedtoJude’sbedroomwall.
“Ican’ttakeallthisgrayanymore.It’slikeanasyluminhere.”Lizzieputsherhairinaponytail.With

herrattyT-shirtandjeanshorts,shelooksreadytodobattlewiththepaintbrushlyingonthefloor.Idon’t
lookanybetter.Shemademecomeovertohelp,eventhoughIhatepainting.

“It’scutethatyouthinkyou’regoingtopaintthisyourself,”Judesays,proppedinthedoorwaylike

he’sposingforaphoto.Sonofabitchevenlooksgoodinpaintclothes.“Badenoughyou’rechangingthe
color.”

“YousaidyoulikedthegreenIpicked.”Lizzieprancesovertohimandwrapsherarmsaroundhis

waist.“It’sgoingtolookawesomewhenit’sdone.”Shekisseshimgentlyonthemouthandhiseyes
close.Damn,she’sgood.

“Iguessitwill,”heacquiesces.“ButItoldyouIcouldhireapainter.”
“Whathemeansishedoesn’ttrustmetogetthecornersperfect.”Lizziesmilesandturnstohim.“It’s

oneroom.Noself-respectingPricewouldhiresomeone.”

ImissLizzie—andtheotherPrice,too.Wehadtobeoutofcampushousingfivedaysago,soI’m

spendingmylastweekintheBayAreawithmyparents.MomandDaddidn’tsayanything,buttheycan
tellI’mdepressed.Mom’sbeensmotheringmeinFilipinocomfortfoodsinceIgothome,whichisalways
adeadgiveaway.

“I’llputthetarpsdownifJudetapes,”Isay.“Ihatetapingandhisarmsareaslongasa

chimpanzee’s.”

Lizziecracksopentheprimer,andbeforeIknowitI’mrunningtherolleralongonewallaswelisten

toindierock.It’snice,actually—spendingthesemomentsdoingsomethingnormalwithLizzieandJude.
Feelingtherhythmofthepaintrollerasitskimsthesurfaceofthewall.Seeingtheblandgraydisappear
underthecrispwhiteoftheprimer.

“Yougotsomeinyourhair.”Lizzieflicksmyponytail.
“Andeverywhereelse,”Isay,lookingatmyclothes.
Thedoorbellringsandwealmostmissitoverthemusic.Juderunsouttothelivingroom,turnsthe

musicdown,andopensthedoor.

Lizziedipsherbrushinpaint.“HaveyouthoughtanymoreaboutusdrivingwithyoudowntoLA?We

arehappytoloadupthecarandfollowyou.”

I’mhalffocusingonwhatLizzieissaying,andhalflisteningtotherumbleddiscussioncomingfrom

thelivingroom.IcouldhaveswornIheardJeff’svoice.

“IsthatJeff?”Lizzieasks,hearingwhatIdo.Herheadwhipsbacktowardme.“Ididn’tinvitehim

over.Iswear.”

WhenwillIlearnaboutbeingtoocuriousformyowngood?DoIhideintheroomlikeanormal

womanwould?No.Instead,LizzieandIboltoutoftheroomtofindoutwhat’sgoingon.

IttakesaminuteformybraintocomputewhatI’mseeing.JudeistryingtousherJeffoutthedoor.Jeff

isgrabbingapairofsunglasses—hisbythelookofthem—outofJude’shand.IrememberJeffwearing
thoseinmyparents’backyardandanachestartsdeepinthevicinityofmyheart.Buttherealass-kicking
painisyettocome—andmybrainistryingtoavoiditlikeagiantpotholeontheroadtohell.Because
rightnexttoJeffisAndrea,lookingbeautifulinacornflower-bluesundress.

Jefflooksup,hisbrowneyesmeetingmine,andeverythingstops.Time,breath,thought—ata

completestandstill.Andthenhiseyesfillwithpanic—anadmissionofguiltifevertherewereone.
Except,whatdoeshehavetofeelguiltyfor?Notadamnthing.

Mymouthdoesn’tagree.“Well,thatdidn’ttakelong.”
JudestaresatLizzie,andtheyexchangethatconcernedlookpeoplegetwhenyou’regoingoffthe

rails.

“It’snotlikethat,”Jeffsays.
Tohiscredit,hedoesn’ttreatmelikeI’mreadyforthepsychward.Hejustdivesrightin,calmand

collectedasusual.Andthatonlyinfuriatesmemore.Howdarehestaycalmwhenmyheartissplintering?

Andthenthere’sAndrea,whoplayedherhandsoperfectly.Sheactuallyhadmefooledthatshewasa

coolchick.Istareherdown.

“Congrats,Andrea.Ididn’tknowyouhaditinyou.”
“Sam,”Lizziewhispersbehindme,tryingtoavertdisaster.Sheplacesherhandonmyback.
“Weshouldgo,”AndreasaystoJeff,andIhavesuchastrongsenseofdéjàvu.
Didn’tIjustdothis?AmIonsomecosmicloop,doomedtorepeatthe“girlmeetshappyexandhis

new-and-improvedwoman”scene?

“Oh,no.Allowme,”Isay,andmyvoicesoundsreallyloud.
Igraspmypurselyingonthehalltableandthrowitovermyshoulder.IshovepastJeff,hopingIget

paintonhisarmalongtheway.

“Youweretheonewhowantedittoend,”hesaysbehindme,hisvoiceasangryasagravelburn.
WhenIturnaround,thesetofhisshoulderstellsmeheregretssayingthat.Idon’tknowifit’sbecause

heknowsithurtme,orbecausehehateslosinghiscool.

“Thanksformakingmefeelgoodaboutmydecision.”
Itakeonelastlookathisfaceasitfallsandthenslamthedoor.

WhenIgothome,mymomtookonelookatmeandpulledmeintoabearhug.SheandDaddidtheirbest
tocounselme,buteventuallyIgotsickoftalkingandaskedforsomespace.Theytookofftothemovies,
andnowI’msittinginthehottub,submergedinwarmthasIstareatthestars.

I’veremindedmyselfabouteighteentimestodaythatJeffhaseveryrighttodowhat—andwho—he

wants.RationalSamunderstandsthatImadethisdevil’sbargainwithJeffinthefirstplace.ThatI’mthe
onethatbrokethingsoff.ThatInevertoldhimhowIreallyfeltabouthim.EmotionalSam,ontheother
hand,doesn’tgiveashit.Andrightnow,emotionalSamreignssupreme.

IcurseJefftotheheavenswithsomuchself-pitythatit’shumorous.WhatanidiotIwas,thinkingI

couldkeepmyfeelingsoutofit.WheninthesweethellhaveIeverbeenabletodothat?

There’saknockonthedoor,whichisstrangeforthistimeofnight.It’sprobablyourneighbor,Mrs.

Miller.She’solderandstopsbyalottoseeMom.Icallouthername,niceandloud,sinceIwon’tbe
abletodryoffandgettothefrontdoorintime.GoodthingI’mwearingmybathingsuit.Iheararustling
inthebushesassomeonecomesthroughthesidegate,soIgetoutofthetubandwrapatowelaround
myself.

Aheadpeeksaroundthecorner,andit’ssounexpectedthatIalmostfallbackwardintothewater

again.

“Luke?”
“Hey.”
Hetriestostraightenupandlooknormal,buthisbutton-upshirtisuntucked,hehasaleafinhishair,

andhelookslikehe’sbeenonathree-daybender.He’susuallyimmaculate,withafacesocleancutand
earnestitlookslikehe’sswearingonaBible.Youknowwhattheysayaboutlooksbeingdeceiving.

“Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?”LukeandIusedtocometomyparents’houseoften,butthatwas

yearsago.Seeinghimhererightnowislikefindinganoctopusinyourbathtub.

“Umm,Idon’tknow,actually.”Herunshishandthroughhishairanddoesn’tletgo.I’veneverseen

himsoflusteredbefore.Thenagain,thatisn’tmyproblemtodealwith.

“Youshouldprobablyrunalongthen.Youknow,onaccountofusbeingenemiesandall.”
“It’sjust,I...”heswallowshard,andhiseyeswater.
Ohman,he’sinfullmeltdownmode.
“Howdidyougethere?”
“I’vebeenstayinginahotelforthepastfewdays.IliedtoEmilyandtoldherIhadtogoawayfor

work,butcametothecoastinstead.I’vemostlybeensittingonthebeachgettinghigh.”

“Wellthatexplainsafewthings,becauseyoulooklikeass.”
Lukeletsoutasmalllaugh.“Imissthat,Sammie.Yourhonesty.”
“Areyoufuckingkiddingmerightnow?Youoncecalledmea‘verbaldisaster.’”
“Yeah,well.Iwaswrong.Aboutalotofthings.Canwegoinside?”
Irubmyhandstogether.“OnlybecauseI’mfreezingmyassoff.”
WhatdidIdoinapastlifetodeservethis?Hefollowsmeintothehouse,asIponderhowI’mgoing

togethimoutofhere.

“Areyoustillstoned?”Iask.Becauseifso,I’mcallinghimacabASAP.
“No.Iwantedtobesoberwhenwetalked.”
“Well,that’ssomething,Iguess.”
Hemakeshimselfathomeinourlivingroom,sprawlingonthecouch.
Isitdownonawickerchairasfarfromhimaspossible.“HowdidyouknowIwashere?”
“Facebook.YoupostedaphototodayandIrecognizedyourparents’Oaxacanwoodcarvingsinthe

background.”Hegivesmeasheepishsmile.“Well,youneverblockedme,so...”

Mypatienceandmyempathyareatanend.“Whatdoyouwantfromme?BecauseI’mprettysure

we’vesaidallweneedtosay.”

Heputshisheadinhishands.“IthinkImightbemakingamistake.Emily’sgreat.Sheis.Butwe’reso

young.Andshecanbesorigid.”

There’safaintringinginmyears.ItmustbethesoundofNoeffingwayisthishappening.
“Whyareyoutellingmethis?”
“Youalwaysknewmebest,Sammie.Youreallygotme.”
Myeyebrowsraisehigh.“SomuchsothatIhadnoideayouwerebangingmyroommate.Youhave

somefuckingnervecominghereafterwhatyoudid.”

“YouknowIfeelsickaboutthat.Itoldyou.”Hescoochesdownthecouch.“I’msolost.WhenIsaw

youwerehere,Iknewitwasasign.Iknowyoucanhelpme.Everyoneexpectsmetomarryher.The
plansareallset.WhatshouldIdo?”

IthinkbacktothenightIfirsttoldLukeIlovedhim.Weweresittingoutsideunderafullmoon,and

hisarmfeltsteadyaroundmyshoulders.Ilookedupintohiseyes,andtherewereintelligenceand

affectionshiningthroughthem.Ithoughthewassohonorable.Sotogether.ButIhadn’treallyknownhim.
IwasseeingwhatIwantedmyfirstlovetobe,notwhathewas.

Maybe,likeeverythingelseinlife,lovehasalearningcurve.LukewasthefirstguyIfellfor,and

maybeIshouldstopbeingsohardonmyselfforbeingwrongabouthim.

Istandup.“I’msorryyou’rehurting,Luke.Comewithme.”Itakehishand,shockedthatitfeels

exactlythesameasIremember—warm,dry,soft.Helookssograteful,asIleadhimoutoftheliving
room,throughthekitchen,towardthehallwaywherethebedroomsare.Butthenhebecomesconfusedas
wepassthoseandreachthefrontdoor.

Istepawayfromhim,andwrapmytowelmoretightlyaroundmywaist.“I’mnotyourdamnpriest.Or

yourpsychiatrist.Whichyouobviouslyneed,ifyouthinkI’mgoingtogiveyouadvice.Idon’toweyou
shit.”

Iopenthedoorandpushhimgentlythroughit.
Hescowlsatme.“Ishouldhaveknownyou’dneverforgiveme.Youneverusedtobesoharsh.”
“Ifyouwerereallysorry,youwouldneverhavecomehere.Whatyouareisachild.Butyouwant

forgiveness?Fine.Iforgiveyou.Didalongtimeago,actually.Doesn’tmeanIneedallthis...”Iwave
myhandaroundhiminacircle“...drama.Youmadeyourbed,sogorollaroundinit.”

Islamthedoor.Afteraminute,Ihearhisfootstepswalkingaway.Elationwashesoverme,because

thatwillbethelasttimeIeverseehim.MaybeeventhelasttimeIeverthinkabouthim.AndIwasbeing
honestwhenIsaidIforgavehim,becauseintheend,Lukedidmeafavor.Hetaughtmenevertoputmy
dreamsecondtosomeoneelse’s.

I’vetakentwostepsfromthedoorwhenIhearathump,thenthesoundofraisedvoices.Iopenthe

doorandseetwofiguresinthedriveway,thestreetlampbouncingoffthemastheystruggle.Oneguyis
taller,andheappearstobeholdingLukeupagainsthiscar.

AndhelookssuspiciouslylikeJeff.
“Hey,”Icallout,andtheybothturntome.Jeffstepsback,andLuketakesthatashiscuetogetinthe

carandspeedoff.HepracticallyrunsoverJeffashebacksout.

Jeffcomesstormingupthewalkway,hishairamess,hisfacefurious.Helooksmeupanddownand

hiseyesgoevencolder.

“Havefunhot-tubbing?”
“Notreallyyourbusiness.YouhaveAndreawaitinginthecar?”
JeffpushespastmeandIclosethedoor.
“TothinkIdroveallthewayheretoapologize.”Heshakeshishead,handsonhishipsastheyalways

arewhenhe’spissed.“WhatajackassIam.Andwhatahypocriteyouare—makingmefeelguiltywhile
you’respendingtimewiththatasshole.”

Forthesecondtimeinmylife,Iwanttoslapaguy.Butformaybethefirsttime,Itakethehighroad

andcalmthehelldown.

“Notthat’sit’sanyofyourconcern,butIdidn’tinviteLukehere.AndIamnothavingconversations

withtwoidiotsinonenightwhilewearingthiswetbathingsuit.GositdownwhileIchange.”

Istompofftomyroomandgetintosomethingdry.ThenIsitonmybedandcounttotwenty—okay,

sixty—sothatIdon’tcompletelyloseitonJeff.Notthathedoesn’tdeserveit.

Imustbetakingalongtime,becausethereisataponmydoor.
“What?”
“Letmecomein.”
Idon’tsayanything,soheopensthedoor.“Whyareyouhidinginyourroom?”
“Whydoyouthink?”

Jeffsighsandsitsdownnexttomeonthebed.“I’msorry.Irecognizedhimfromyourphotos,andI

lostit.”Heflingshimselfbackonthebedandcovershiseyeswithhisarm.“Ifyouhaven’tnoticed,I’m
notalwaysrationalwhenitcomestoyou.”

“He’shavingcoldfeet.Hedoesn’tthinkheshouldmarryEmily.”
“Andheaskedyouforadvice?”Jeff’seyesarestillcovered.
“ThoughtIcouldhelphimfigurehislifeout.”
Jeff’schucklebuildsintoafull-blownlaugh.
“What?”
Heturnsonhissidetostareatme,anddamnifhedoesn’ttakemybreathaway.Helooksunbuttoned,

atease,andalittleundone.“Thatpoorbastard.Ibetyourippedhimanewone.”

“Yes,yes,Idid.”Ismile,andJeffinhalesatthesightofit.Hishandtouchesmycheek,lingeringthere.
“Don’t,”Iwhisper,allfunsuddenlygonefromthismoment.
“Ican’thelpit,”hesays,hisvoicedarkandlow.Butlikethegoodguyheis,hepullshishandaway.

“Look,Andreaisjustafriend.She’shavingahardtimerightnowandI’mhelpingherout.AndIdidn’t
knowyouwereatJude’shouseorIwouldn’thavecome.”

“Youdon’towemeanexplanation.You’renotminetogetjealousover.”Iblinkhardtostopthetears

thatarethreateningtoform.

“Oh,sweetheart,”hesays.
Thelookinhiseyesnearlyundoesme,becausehecares.Iseenowwhyallthosegirlsfellinlove

withhim,eventhoughhedidn’tlovethemback.Hisfriendship,hiswarmth,arealmostjustasgood.
Almost.

Ipullmyselftogether,becauseifIdon’t,he’sgoingtotryandcomfortme,andIwilllethim.
“I’mfine.I’msorryforjumpingdownyourthroat.Ijustmissyou.”
“I’msorry,too,forallthesamereasons.”Hetakesastrandofmyhairandrunsitthroughhisfingers.
“Youcan’tkeeptouchingme,”Isay,notpullingaway.“WhenyoutouchmeIforgetwhywecan’tbe

together.”

Hewrapshisentirehandinmyhair,bringingmyfaceclosertohis.“I’musuallytheguywhodoes

whathe’stold.Whoputswhathewantssecond.ButwhatifIdon’twanttobethatguytonight?”

“JustbemyJeff—allofhim,”Iwhisper.
Hismouthcrashesintomine—punishing,unforgiving.AndI’mdonefor;myheart,mybody,they’re

his.

Hegroansandpullsmeunderneathhim,andthereliefoffeelinghisweightonmeagainisunbearable.

Ican’tgettohisbodyfastenough,andwemangleeachother’sclothesinourhurrytogetthemoff.
There’sthechestwiththepatchofblondhairthatticklesme,theshouldersthatarebroadenoughtocling
to.Thesoftlipsthattricklelikewaterdownmybody.

Ilosemyselftowhathe’sdoing,untilIlosemyselfcompletely.
“You’remine,”hesays,movingbackup,movinginsideme.“Evenifit’sonlyfortonight.”
Ilockeyeswithhim.“Andyou’remine.”
“Alwayshavebeen.”
Weclimbsohightogether,andneitherofuswantittoend.Wedoeverythingtoprolongourlasttime

together,butithasbeentoolong,andit’ssogoodbetweenus.Hegraspsmyhandattheend,andIreturn
hisgrip.Evenafterward,neitherofusletsgo.

Idon’twanttofallasleep,butIdriftinandoutofapleasanthaze,andhedoesthesame.

ThenexttimeIopenmyeyes,Jeff’slookingatme.

“Hey,sleepyhead.”Hekissesmyforehead.
Istarttopanic.“Idon’twantyoutogo.”
“Idon’twantyoutogo,either.”And,ofcourse,hemeanstoLA.“Butyouhaveto.”
Somethinghesaidlastnightnagsatme.“Whatdidyoumeanwhenyousaidyou’rehelpingAndrea?”
Hesitsup,hisfacestiffening.“Umm,shejustneedsafriendrightnow.”
“ForgetIasked.Itisn’tmybusiness.”IthrowmyT-shirton.
Hegrabsmyarm.“It’snotlikethat.She’spregnantwithKeller’sbaby.”
Everycellinmybodygoesonhighalert.“Pleasetellmeyou’renothelpingherthroughthat.”
“She’sreallyfreakedout.Herfriendswanthertogetridofthebaby.”
“Ican’tbelievethis.”Ilaunchoutofbedandthrowmypantson.
“What?”Helooksconfused.
Myhandsaretrembling.“Doyouhonestlynotseewherethisisheading?”
“I’mhelpingafriend.What’swrongwiththat?”
“You’redoingwhatyoualwaysdo.Beingthewhiteknightthatrushesintosaveher.”
Hepullshisshortson.“I’mbeinganiceperson.Youmightwanttotryitsometime.”
Thatshouldhurtmyfeelings,butIhitbelowthebeltfirst.AndIcan’tquitnow.Jeffisimportantto

me.EvenifIcan’thavehim,Iwanthimtobehappy,andthissituationwithAndreaisgoingtoruinhim.

“Bullshit.You’rebeingspineless.You’llbemarriedtoherwithintheyear.”
“We’refriends.Idon’tloveher.”
“That’sneverstoppedyoubefore.”
Heturnstome,hisfacepinkwithanger.“Maybewhenthewomanyouwerestupidenoughtofallin

lovewithdumpsyou,it’sjustnicetofeelneeded.”

Myheartlurches.Thisishowhedecidestofinallysaythosewords?AtleastIknowhe’stellingthe

truth.He’stooangrynottobe.

“Settlingwon’tmakeyouhappy.Andherbabywon’tbringyourbabyback.”
Heinhalessharplyandthesetofhisjawmakeshimlookfierce.“Likeyousaid,it’snoneofyour

business.”

Hebrushespastmeasheleaves.I’mdesperateforhimnotto;I’mnevergoingtoseehimagain,andI

wanthimtoknowhowIfeel.

Igrabhisarm.“Wait.”
“Let’sjustleaveitherebeforewesayevenmoreterriblethings.”
“Iloveyou,too,”Isay.“Ineedyoutoknowthatbeforeyougo.”
Hefreezes.“Butitisn’tenough,isit?”
HelookshowIfeel:likesomeonerippedhisheartcleanoutofhischest.
Ishakemyhead.“Whatarewesupposedtodo?Neitherofusisdumbenoughtoriskeverythingfor

love.”

Likeanadmissionofdefeat,hisshouldersdropandhestayssilent.
JustasIthought.
“Yourememberthefirstnightwemet?Whatyoutoldme?”heasks.
“Aboutwhat?”
“Youwarnedmethatgettingmyheartbrokenwouldbedevastating.”Hekissesmyforehead.“You

wereright.”

Andthistime,Jeffistheonewhorunsaway.

Chapter28:Jeff

21DaysWithoutHer

Samlefttoday.Justdroveawayinthatstupidcarofhers,probablyfilledwithmorecrapthanshecan
carry.Iwon’tbetheretohelphermoveherstuffintoherapartment.Won’tknowwhatshe’sdoingand
whoshe’sdoingitwith.Butthisiswhatshewanted,andsoIgobacktomylife.

“Hello?”Lizziewavesahandinfrontofmyeyes.“Youhere?”
We’reatJude’smovingthefurniturebackintoplaceintheirbedroom.He’soutwithhisfriends,so

I’mgettingsomemuch-appreciatedalonetimewithmysister.Andwe’respendingitpushingdressersand
endtablesaround.

“Sorry.”Igiveonefinalpushandwe’redone.“Youhappynow?”
“Yay,”Lizziesays,clappingherhands.“Itlooksamazing.Nomoreprisongray.Andconsideringhow

muchJudeandIusethisroom...”

“Nope,”Isay,shakingmyhead.
Shelaughs.“Sorry.IwaschannelingSamthereforaminute.”
Hernamecausesanachetoformbehindmyribs.Sortoffeelslikeaheartattack.
“Sorry.Imissher,too,”Lizziesays.
“I’mfine.”Ileavetheroomandheadforthekitchen,usingwaterasmypretextforescapingthis

conversation.

ButLizziefollowsme.
“Iknowinourfamilywedothewholestoicthing,butyou’refullofcrap.Youmisshersomuch

you’resickwithit.”

“What’stalkingaboutitgoingtodo?”
Screwwater.Igrababeeroutofthefridgeandtwistoffthecap.
“Maybeitwillgetthisoffyourchest,which,bytheway,youkeeprubbinglikeyou’redying.”
“SoIfellforher.Sowhat?Shesaiditisn’tenough,andshewasright.I’llgetoverit.”
“Oh,Ifellinlove.Bigdeal,”Lizziesays,loweringhervoiceandpuffingoutherchesttoimitateme.

“You’resostupid.”

“Thanksalot.”ThebeertastesgoodgoingdownsoItakeabiggersip.
“Itoldbothofyouthiswasgoingtohappen.Nooneeverlistenstome.”
Lizzieplopsdownonastoolatthecounter,thefrownonherfacemakingherlooklikeafive-year-

old.ThoughLizziewasn’tthisjudgmentalwhenshewasfive.

“Maybebecauseyousay‘Itoldyouso’alot.”
“Well,I’mstuckinthemiddle,”shesays.“I’mhurtingforbothofyou,andIcan’tturnmysadnessinto

angerbyhatingeitherofyou.”

Isitdownnexttoher.“There’snoonetoblamehere.Weplayedwithfireandneitherofusgotaway

clean.”

“Butyourheart’sbreaking.”Lizzietakesmyhand,andIknowshecanfeelwhatI’mfeeling.We’ve

alwaysbeenlikethat.

Istruggletobreathe.
“Oh,Jeff.”Shesetsherheadonmyshoulder.
“Shesaidthatneitherofusisdumbenoughtoriskeverythingforlove.”
“Yeah,well,Lukemadesureshelearnedthatlesson.Anditdoesn’tmakesenseforhertobe

anywherebutLArightnow.Butwhataboutyou?”

“Thisjobishugeforme.Youhavenoideahowharditistobreakintothisindustry.It’sabigdealthat

Imadeithere.ThatI’mkeepingupwiththesepeople.”

“Sure.Butdoyouloveit?”
Istopshort.BecauseIhaven’tthoughtaboutitlongenoughtoanswerthatquestion.
“Becauseifnot,isn’tyourjobjustanotherrelationshipyou’retooafraidtoleave?”
IstareatLizzie,blinking.
“Maybeweshouldarmwrestleoverthis,likeintheolddays.”Lizzieputsherrightelbowonthe

table.

“Iwastenthen.PrettysureIcouldbeatyounow.”
“Wannabet?”Shewigglesherfingers.
Itakeherhandandsqueezeit.“Iloveyou,kid.Thanksfortryingtocheermeup.”
Shesqueezesback.“Nomatterwhathappens,I’mhereforyou.”

Eliissittingonmydesk,shootingthebreeze,hisbluetiewayoff-kilter.“Shit,Ihaveameetinginten.”

“Metoo.Myfifthoftheday.”I’vebeenpullinglongerhoursthanusualtokeepmymindoccupied.

I’veevenbeengettingallemoandplayingmyguitareverynight.Ican’tlookatthebanjo,becauseit
remindsmeofSam.Pathetic.

“Ifeelyou,brother,butIhavetogoprep,”Elisays,andthenhe’sgone.
IreachfortheaspirinIkeepinmydrawer.I’mtakingsomanyIshouldbuystockinthecompany.
Andreatiptoesover,likeshe’safraidI’llbite.“Hey.Thoughtyoumightneedsomefood.”Shesetsa

bigbrownbagdownonmydesk.“It’saclub—yourfavorite.Andacookie.Youseemedlikeyoucould
useit.”

Andrea’sbeenatrouperthisweek,bringingmetreatsandcoffeejustabouteveryday.Likesheused

towhenIfirststartedworkinghere.

“Youdidn’tneedtodothat.”
“Areyoucrazy?That’swhatfriendsarefor.”
There’sahopefulnessinhertone,ormaybeI’mreadingintoeverythingthesedays.
“Areyoucomingtohappyhourtonight?”Shesitsonthecornerofmydesk,andherskirtridesupto

mid-thigh.Hardnottonoticeshehasnicelegs.

“Idon’tknow...”
“C’mon.Youdon’twanttosithomealoneallnight.”Shesmilesatme,andI’mhappythatshedoesn’t

seemscaredandmiserablelikeshedidjustacoupleofweeksago.

“Fine.I’llseeyouthere.”

IregrethappyhourbeforeIevenwalkinthedoor.ButIdon’twanttogohometoanemptyhouseagain,
either.Thatleadstoallkindsofcrazybehavior,likecryingintomybeer,orwatchingachickflickmostof
thewaythrough,orsmellingmynavyblueT-shirtbecauseSamworeitandIhaven’twasheditsince.

“Hey,”Elisays,holdinguphisdrinkwhenIwalkin.“He’sreturnedfromthedead.”
“Justforthebeeryou’regoingtobuyme.”

ElipatsmeonthebackandheadsforthebarwhileIholdthetable.RajivandanotherguyIdon’t

knowareatthetablenexttous.

“IsSamcoming?”Rajivasks,catchingmeoffguard.
“Nope.SheleftforLA.”
“Oh.Sorry,man.Thatsucks.Shewasacoolgirl.”
Mymoodturnsdarker,butAndreawalksinthen,givingmeareprieve.
“Hey.SorryI’mlate.”Shethrowsherpurseonthechairnexttome.“Iwasfeelingalittlesick,”she

whisperssoRajivwon’thear.

Shehasn’ttoldanyoneatworkyetaboutherpregnancy,whichisprobablysmart.
“I’llgogetyouaseltzerwater,”Isay,scootingherchairinforher.
Eli’sstillatthebar,becauseKellerhasarrived.Helooksasunflusteredandarrogantasusual,

standingatthebarlikeheownsit.IsidestephimandorderAndrea’sdrink.

“Here’sthebeerIorderedyou,”Elisays,handingmeabottle.“Hangoutwithusforabit.”
“Yeah.HeardyoumetwiththeSonicaguystoday,”Kellersays,finishingthelastofhisvodka-

whatever.“Fillmein.”

WhileEliiswillingtooverlookthefactthatKellerisanasshole,I’mnot.Ihavenotolerancefora

manwhodoesn’tcareabouthischildorhisresponsibilities.Thenagain,Elidoesn’tknowthewhole
story.

“Ihavetogetback,”Isay,gesturingovertomytable.
Kellerpeeksovermyshoulderandlaughs.“Jesus,thatdidn’ttakeherlong.Youtwoaretheperfect

pair.”

“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,”Isay,movingintoKeller’sspace.
“PrettysureIdo,sinceit’smybabyshe’scarrying.”
Eli’seyesgowide.
Mypulsestartstorace,andsweatbreaksoutonmyforehead.“Youneedtoshutyourfuckingmouth.”
Kellerholdsuphishands.“Dude,I’mtotallycoolwithit.You’dbedoingmeasolid,actually.”
IhavenomemoryofgrabbingKeller’scollarwithbothhandsandliftinghimoffhisstool,butImust

have,becauseEliisyellingformetostop.ButI’mbeyondthepointofmaintainingcontrol.

“Youareapieceofshit.”Ipushhard,andKellerfallstothefloor.Hegetsupandchargesatme,but

Eliisthere,holdinghimback.Imustbelunging,too,becausesuddenlyRajivisholdingmyarms.Some
otherguy,maybeabaremployee,hasmebytheneck.

“Outside,”Rajivsaystome,draggingmeaway.
Mylungsareonfireandmybrainfeelslikeared-hotpokerislodgedinit.Ibendoverandbreathe,

forcingmyselftocalmdown.

Rajivfinallyletsgoofme,runninghishandsthroughhisjetblackhair.“Whatthefuck?!”
“Ihatethatguy.”
Rajivbrushesoffhisshirt,whichhassomehowgottenwrinkled.“Weallkindofhatehim.Butwe

worktogether,soyoucan’tbegettingintoabarbrawlwithhim.”

“Thanksfornotlettingmepunchhim.Heprobablywouldhavesuedme.”
Hepatsmeontheshoulder.“Fuckyeah,hewouldhave.Youshouldleave.”
Andreacomesoutside,herpurseoverhershoulder.“I’llmakesurehegetshome,”shesaystoRajiv.
She’squietasshewalksmetomycarandfollowsmetomyplace,whichIsortofappreciatebecause

I’mstillinahaze.Butwhenshegetstothedoor,Idon’twanttoletherin.

“Youokay?”Shemovesthehairoffmyforehead.“Didyougethurt?”
“No.Wenevereventradedpunches.”

“Iknowthishappenedbecauseofme.I’msosorryaboutthat.”
Sheiskindandsincere,andIfeellikeajerkformakingapregnantwomanstandinmydoorway.
“Comein,”Itellher,despitethefamiliar,rude,femalevoiceinmyheadtellingmeI’minvitingin

trouble.

Ithrowmykeysonmysmalldiningtable.Livinginthisstudioisbeginningtofeellikebeingtrapped

inadollhouse.

“Keller’sangrywithme,andhe’stakingitoutonyou.”Andreasays.“He’supsetabouthavingtopay

childsupport.Thegoodnewsisheprobablywon’tbethatinvolved.I’msadforthebaby,butrelieved,
too.”

“Youdon’tneedhim.It’sbetterforthebabytohavenofatheratallthanthatjerk.Youcandobetter.”
Andrea’slaughisbitter,whichisunlikeher.“Mostguysaren’tlikeyou.Youthinkaguyinhis

twentieswantstoraisesomeoneelse’skid?Oranychild,forthatmatter?Butitiswhatitis.”

She’stryingtobebrave,butIcanseethedarkcirclesunderhereyesandthefearshe’shiding.Ilead

hertothecouchsoshecansit,butseeingherthereinsteadofSamthrowsmeoff.“It’sgoingtobeokay.
You’reyoungandbeautifulandsomeoneisgoingtowantthewholepackage.”

Shecrossesherarmsoverherselfforprotection.“Yousaythatsocasually.Butyou’rejustmakingit

harderforanyoneelsetomeasureup.”

“Andrea,I...”
Sheholdsupahand.“No,pleasedon’t.I’msorry.Iknowyou’reinlovewithSam,andI’mtaking

advantageofyourfriendship.”

“You’renot.Iamyourfriend.Butthat’sallIcanberightnow.”
“It’sjust...myparentsaskedmetomovehometoChicagotobenearthem.Iwantedyoutoknow.”
“Areyougoingtogo?”Itwouldmakealotofsenseforhertobenearpeoplewhocareabouther.
“IcantransfertotheChicagooffice,butIhatetoleavemyfriends,and...”
Shelooksatmefortoolong,untilIcan’tpossiblymistakehermeaning.She’sstillholdingouthope

thatI’llcomearound.Somethinginmyeyes—regret,sympathy,Idon’tknow—mustgivemeaway,
becauseshestartstocry.

“YoumustthinkI’mridiculous.”
“No.You’refine.”Iputmyhandsonhershoulders,desperatetostophertears.“Pleasedon’tbe

upset.”

Sheleansinforahugandputsherarmsaroundmyneck.Itfeelswrong,butsheneedscomfortandI’d

beadicknottogiveittoher.Then,I’llwalkhertothedoor.

Exceptwhenshepullsback,sheputsherlipsagainstmineandIlether.Maybethiswasinevitable,

andmaybeit’snotsuchabadthing.Hermouthiswarmandgentle.AndAndreaissweetandgenerous.

Isthereanythingwrongwithsettlingwhenyoucan’thavewhatyoureallywant?Doesn’teveryonedo

thatatonepointoranother?

Dreadcoursesthroughmybody,downmyspine,allthewaytomytoes.I’mtheguyperchedabovethe

dunktank,andsomeonejusthitabull’seye.IpullbackquicklyandletgoofAndrea’sarms,unsurewhat
todonext.ButSamwould.Becauseshewasright,andIdidn’tlisten.

“Ineedyoutogo,”Isay,steelingmyselfagainstAndrea’sresponse.“You’reawonderfulwoman,but

ifwekeepspendingtimetogetherthisisgoingtogosomewhereIdon’twantitto.”

Andreastandsup,herfacered.“Ofcourse.Iunderstand.AndmaybeChicagoisagoodidea.”
“It’simportanttohavefamilyaround.Goodluck,Andrea.”
Shewalksquicklytothedoorand,badmannersornot,Idon’tfollow.
IlookaroundthisstudioandrelivethemomentsI’vehadhere.AlloftheonesIcareaboutinclude

Sam.Theechoofherlaughter,hermoans—hell,evenheryelling—bouncesoffthesewallsandmakesthis
myhome.Withouther,thisplaceisarental.

Andyet,IgaveupSamforajobthatIdon’tevenlove.Somepeoplethriveonbigrisksandafrenetic

pace:I’mjustnotoneofthem.I’dratherslowdownalittlesoIcandigdeeperandbuildsomethingofmy
own,ratherthanjumpingfromstart-uptostart-up.

SowhydidIletSamgo?
IleftUtahthinkingIneededfreedom.MaybewhatIreallyneededwasabackbone.There’snothing

wrongwithwantingpermanenceorwithbeingtheniceguy.AndIwanttobeniceforsomeoneelse.
Someonewhoappreciatesit.SomeoneIlove.

Samknewallalong;Ididn’tneedtoavoidrelationships.WhatIneededwastherightwoman,andthe

confidencetoputmystakeinthegroundwhenIfoundher.

MyheartisinoverdrivebutmyhandsarerocksteadyasIwriteoutanoteandacheckforEvaand

puttheminanenvelope.

Next,Igrabmykeysandmywalletandstufftheminmypockets.They’reimportanttohavewhen

you’reabouttoblowupyourwholelife.

Chapter29:Sam

29DaysWithoutHim

LAisacesspool.

Lookatme,beingoverdramatic.Maybethecityhasalreadywormeditswayintome.
Goodnewsis,everything’sopenlate,andthere’salottodo.Butit’sstrangetoliveinaplacewhere

carsandboobimplantsoutnumberhumans.Theupshotisthatit’sahugecity,andapersoncanblendin
here.Andthat’swhatIwanttodorightnow.

I’matacaféacrossthestreetfrommynewapartment—infact,Icanseemydoorfromhere.It’sa

studio,soI’mnotsharingwithanyone.Quietandlonelyaren’ttheendoftheworld,though,especially
whenyou’retryingtomendabrokenheart.I’vegoneoutacoupleoftimeswithnewfriendsImetat
orientation,sothatshouldkeepmefromgoingallHowardHughesandspiralingintomadness.

Plus,thisjointiscool.Itsmellslikehappinessandgoeslightontheironichipsterdecor.Therearea

fewpaintingsonthewallforsale,butthat’stobeexpected.Otherwise,it’smostlypeoplestudyingand
relaxingoverginormouscupsofcoffee.

Exceptforthecoupleacrossfromme.I’vebeguntocallthemFredandGinger,becausetheyare

dancingaroundatopiclikethere’snotomorrow.Andtoday’stopicisanothergirl.Itrynottoeavesdrop
—sortof—butit’ssopainfulandfamiliarandrealthatIcan’tlookaway.LikethosePSAswherethey
showyouabusedanimalsinslowmo.

“Ijustdon’tunderstandwhyshe’stextingyouifyoubarelyknowher,”Gingersays,playingwiththe

cardboardcupholderonhercoffee,herdarkhairswingingoverhereyes.

Excellentquestion.
“Itoldyou.Shewasjustaskingaboutaclassassignment.”
“Thenhowcomeyouwouldn’tshowmethepictureattached?”
Oh,boy.Fredclearlyhastoscrambleforthisanswer,sohedeflectsbybecomingangry.
“Ifyoudon’ttrustmethenwedon’tevenhavearelationship.Itoldyouitwasnothing.”
“You’vebeenactingweirdlately.It’snotjustthetexts...”
Hethrowsdownhisnapkinandleansback.“I’msooveryourjealousy.”
Pushingitbackonher.Clever.Thethingis,hecouldbetellingthetruth.Exceptsomethingabouthis

bodylanguagesayshe’snot.Iknowit,Gingerknowsit,andeveryonewithinsixfeetofthemknowsit.
ThisisprobablythemomentwhenGingercaves,convincingherselfshe’sbeingcrazy.Thatlosing
someoneshelovesoversomethingshe’snotsureaboutistoorisky.Shecouldaimsomuchhigher,butshe
probablydoesn’tknowit.

ButthenGingerstandsup.
“Yeah,see,Idon’tbelieveyou.Andyou’reright.IfIdon’ttrustyou,thisisn’tarealrelationship.SoI

guessI’mdone.”Shegrabsherpurseandwalksout.

Huh.GuessGingerdidknowshecoulddobetter.Iloveitwhenpeoplesurpriseme.
Fred’snotassurprising.TheminuteGingerleaves,hecallssomeonenamedJaninewhoisnotastudy

partner,that’sforsure.Butwhenheendsthecall,hethrowsthephonedownandsulks.

Ah,humans.Wearesuchidiots.
LiketheguyIseeinmyperipheralvision.Hewasknockingonsomeone’sdoorthewholetimeIwas

caughtupinFredandGinger.Thenheploppeddowninthemiddleofthesidewalk.Butnowhe’sbackto
bangingonthedooragain,soIturntopeeroutthewindow.WhichiswhenIrealizethatit’smydoorhe’s
molesting.AndhelooksalotlikeJeff—orsomeruffledversionofhim.Thoseshoulders,thatsandyblond
hair—thosejeans.

Oh,God.It’shim.
Ishootoutofmyseatandhaulassoutthefrontdoor.ButwhenIgettothecurb,myfeetfreezeandI

can’tgoanyfurther.

“Jeff,”Ishout,overthesoundofcarswhizzingby.
Heturnsandseesme,andevenfromhere,Icantellheisanxious.Hishairismessy,hehasstubbleon

hisface,buthelookssogood—soreal—Iwanttocry.

Herunsacrossthestreet,dodgingacartogettome.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?Areyoucrazy?”I’mtryingnottoshriek,andfailingmiserably.
Hegrabsmyhand.“Yes,Iamcrazy.Aboutyou.YousaidIwouldn’triskeverythingforlove,but

you’rewrong.AndI’mheretoproveit.”

Iletgoofhim,butrunmyhandsdownhisarmstomakesurehe’snotbrokensomewhere.“Whatare

youtalkingabout?Haveyoubeendrinking?”

“No,no.ButIhaven’tsleptinabouttwenty-sevenhours.So,youknow,it’spossibleI’mincoherent.”
“Idon’tunderstand.”Isay.
“I’minlovewithyou,andIwantyouwithmeallthetime.”
Silverstarsstarttofillmyvision.JustlikewhenIwastenandmynemesis,SheilaGarcia,purposely

hitmeintheheadwiththetetherball.Thatbitchplayedforkeeps.MaybeJeff’splayingforkeepsnow,
too.

“Butweagreedlongdistanceneverworks.Andwe’rebothgoingtobesobusy.”
Herunshishandthroughhishair.“Well,umm,Ikindofquitmyjob.”
“Youwhat?!”
TheguywalkingpastmeturnsandlooksatmelikeI’mafreak.
“Youkeepyellingatme.”
“Becauseyou’vegoneinsane,”Isay,loweringmyvoiceatouch.
Hesmiles.“Exactly.I’mnotgoingtosettle.Notonemoredamntime.Iwanttobewithyou.AndI

promisenottocrowdyouorgetintheway.I’vealreadygotcallsintoacouplestart-ups.Iwanttohelp
buildacompanyfromthegroundup.”

“Here?Youwanttomovehere?”ThethoughtofhimbeingwithmeislikeEve’sapple—sotempting.

ExceptIcan’tlethimthrowawayeverythingforme.“Youjuststartedanewlife.”

“Notmuchofalifeifyou’renottheretoshareit.”Heputshishandsonmyfaceandlooksintomy

eyes—deep,whereallmyinsecuritieshide.“Thiscanwork.Butonlyifyouwantitto.”

Helooksuncertain,likeheneedstosellmeontheidea.Whydoesn’theknowhowmuchIlovehim?

HowcanhethinkthatIdon’twantthis?

MaybebecauseI’vebeenactinglikeIdon’tdeserveit.
Itookaleaponce,too,andlostmyfootingbecauseofit.ButIleaptforthewrongperson.Jeff’sbelief

inmeisn’tmisplaced,andtrustinghimwouldn’tbestupid.Ilovehiminallthebestways.I’mthehiphop
tohiscountry,thehybridtohisgasguzzler,thecolorfulsprinklesonhisvanillacake.

Iwanthim,andevenbetter—Ideservehim.Andhedeservesme.
Thatthoughtissoenormous,there’snothingtobedonebutletitspilloutastears.

“Iloveyou,too.I’msorryIdidn’tfightforus.Butyournewlifewassoimportant.”
Then,helooksatmewithcompletesincerity,hisaw-shuckssmilenowhereinsight,andsays,“Notas

importantasyou.”

“Youbastard.Yousonofabitch.”IthrowmyarmsaroundhimandkisshimuntilIcan’tthinkstraight.
ButIdon’tneedtoberationalrightnow.Mymindismadeup,andmyheartisspokenfor.Ineedhim

withme.

Becausetherightman—agoodman—doesn’tthrowashonyourdreams,hesuppliestheoxygen.
Heliftsmeupoffmytoes.“I’lltakethatasayes.”
Andthenhecarriesmeacrossthestreet,intomyapartment.Ourapartment.
Now,whereverIgo,hegoes,too.

Keepreadingforapreviewof

TELLMETH ATY OU’ REMINE

CO MING SO O NFRO MSMPSWERVE!

Chapter1:Ryan

ItfeelslikeaneternitysinceI’vebeenhome.Inreality,it’sonlybeenayear.

Myslowwalktothehouseissurreal.Thelawnisaspristineasever,eachbladeofgrassshornthe

sameheightbyJude’smeticulousmowing.TheredgeraniumsIplantedyearsagoarethriving.Andthe
dentintheporchrail,causedbymyfootaccidentallyconnectingwiththewood,isstillvisible.ButI
don’trememberthehousebeingthisuninspiringshadeofblue,orthecrackonthefrontstoopbeingthis
wide.Thishouse,thiscity,usedtobemywholeworld.Itseemedalotbiggerthen.

Discordanceskittersovermyspine:whatshouldbefamiliarisforeign,andreliefmingleswith

anxiety.TimesnapsandcontractsasIknockonthefrontdoor,andsuddenlyitseemslikeanhoursinceI
left.Ananosecond.

Thedoorswingsopen,andthereasonformyhastydepartureisstaringatme.She’sasprettyasI

remember—maybeprettier,damnher.GreeneyesthatusedtoflutterwhenIkissedher,fulllipsthat
whisperedconfidencesinmyear.

Now,herfaceisfrozeninahostess’ssmile.Herfingersworrythebottombuttonofherpinkcardigan,

andthethreadsbegintoloosen.Shedoesn’tknowwhattodobecauseshewasn’texpectingme.Iguessit
wasn’tniceshowingupadayearly.

“Ryan.You’rehome.”
Home.Doesshemeanmineorhers?
IhadalmostforgottenwhatLizzie’svoicesoundedlike,butitshuskydepthbringsmemoriesrushing

backofthesixmonthswespentlovingeachother.

Well,Ilovedher.Shewasfallinginlovewithmybrother.
Iwaitformyhearttoache,butthere’sonlyasmalltwinge.That’sasurprise.Inmymind,thiswasall

somuchmoredramaticandintense.Hardstaresandpinchedlips.Alittlesocialawkwardnessseemsso
mundanebycomparison.

AndthenthedoorswingsopenwiderandJudeisthere.Mypulsestops—doesn’tslow,justceasesto

existforasecond.Leaveittohimtobringthefireworks.

Likethehouse,JudeseemssmallerthanIremember.Ormaybethat’sbecausehehasgone

expressionless,hisdiscomforthard-crashinghim.Hishandsdigintohispockets,searchingforananchor,
pullinghisshouldersintoahunch.IttakesalottoknockJudeoffhisgame.GladtoseeIcanstillhavethat
effectonhim.

Whenheopenshismouth,nosoundcomesout.It’sunusualformetohavetostepupandbethebigger

manwhenI’maroundmybigbrother.Buttodayisthatday.

“Longt-timenosee.”
Hisliptrembles.
No.Thisisnothowthisissupposedtogo.Judedoesn’tgetemotional.
“Comehere.”Igesturewithmyhands,andthatbreaksthestalemate.
Hestepsforwardintoaback-pattinghug,andnowhe’sJudeagain.Strong.Sure.Biggerthanlife.

God,Imissedhim.

Whenheleansback,he’sallbusiness—allolderbrother.“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouwerecomingin

early?”

“IUberedfromtheairport.Moredramaticthisw-way.”
Lizzie’sglancedartsbackandforthbetweenus,likeshedoesn’tknowwheresheshouldresthereyes.
Judemovesaside.“Stopstandingtherelikeanidiotandcomein.”
ThefirstthingInoticeistheredglassvaseinthelivingroomandthephotosonthewall—dashesof

colorandlifethatweren’ttherebefore.Lizzie’sinfluenceonthishouse,andonhim,isobvious.Jude
calledbeforeIleftJapantowarnmethatshewasmovingin.Histonemanagedtobeapologetic,
pleading,anddefiantallatonce.

Hegrabsmydufflebag.“Ikeptyourbedroomthesame.Letmeputyourstuffinthere,andI’llthrowa

loadinthewash.”

“Inotherwords,youdon’twantmec-clutteringupthehouse.”Somethingsneverchange;Jude

doesn’tlikeanythingoutofplace.

ThesecondJudeleavestheroom,theawkwardnessreturns.LizzieandIstareateachotherasshe

crossesherlegsandbounceskneeupanddown.

“Kindoffeelslikeaf-funeral,”Isay.
Herkneestopsbouncingandshesmiles,bringingapieceofsunshinetothismoment.“Sorry.You’re

right.It’sgoodtoseeyou.”

“Youtoo.Howarethingsg-going?”
Sheshakesherhead.“Thisissoweird.”
“Itdoesn’tneedtobe.Iwouldn’thaveg-giventhetwoofyoumyblessingifIwasgoingtohateyouf-

foritlater.”

“Iknowyouwouldn’thave.”
“Areyouhappy?”
Shenods.
Idon’tneedtoaskifJude’shappy.Histextsandphonecallsoverthepastyearmadethatclear.He’s

foundsomeonenewtoorbitaround.I’mnotgoingtopretendthatdoesn’tsting,butit’sasitshouldbe.He
andIspenttoomanyyearswithonlyeachother.

Lizziebitesherthumbnail,anervoushabitshedoesn’tindulgeinoften.IhatethatIknowthatabout

her.

“Itriedtotalkhimoutoflivingtogether.”
“C-Comeon,Lizzie.Youcouldn’thavet-triedallthathard.”
Herheadrearsbackandshelooksmeupanddown,likeshe’sseeingmeforthefirsttime.“Whata

differenceayearmakes.”

“Thisw-wasn’tjustanyyear.”Theupshotofdisengagingyourselffromeveryoneandeverythingis

thatyougettoreinventyourself.“I’vem-madesomechanges.”

“Goodforyou.I’dlovetohearaboutJapan.”
“Metoo,”Judesays,comingbackintheroom.Ihearthewashingmachinerunninginthebackground.

“Afterthat,IwanttoshowyousomeapartmentsIfoundforyou.”

“Jude...”Lizziestarts,butthendecidesagainstit.
Smart.Thelessshegetsinvolved,thebetter.
“Idon’tneedyouf-findingmeaplace.”Ifmytoneisbiting,Ihavearighttoit.
WhenIpulledmyheadoutofmyasslastyearanddiscoveredJudewasinlovewithLizzie,Idecided

toputhimfirstlikehe’ddoneformesomanytimesthroughoutourlives.ButjustbecauseIencouraged
theirrelationshipandlefttogiveeveryonebreathingroomdoesn’tmeanI’mamartyr.NowthatI’mback,
hedoesn’tgettotakethereinsandrunmylifeagain.

Judecrosseshisarms.“I’mtryingtohelp.”
Myfaceheats.Iknowhemeanswell.IalsoknowJude’sdefensiveashellbecausehefeelsguilty

aboutkickingmeoutofourhome.Butlet’sfaceit,Iwasgoingtohavetoleavesometime.

“I’vebeenonmyownforay-year.Igotthis.”
Jude’sneverbeenonetobackdowneasily.“Whataboutmoney?Youdon’thaveajob,andschool

startsintwoweeks.”

I’mheadedbacktoSanJoseStatethisfalltostartmyteaching-credentialprogram.
“Theywantmetocomebacktothecafé.I’llbef-fine.”
“Andtuition?”He’stappingonehandonhisleg.
“Itookoutloans.”
“Ididn’twantyoutodothat.”Judegoesfullcartoonvillainwhenhegetsupset—clenchedjaw,steely

eyes,thewholebit.

“Yeah,wellIdid.Sog-getusedtoit.”
“HowaboutImakedinner?”Lizzieasks,breakingthetension.
Ichangemyshirtandgetcleanedup,calmingmyselfintheprocess.ThatworksuntilIstepfootinthe

kitchen.Whenmymomdied,JudeandImovedintothishousewithouruncleRob.Fiveyearslater,he
diedinacarcrashandleftthehousetoJude.Now,thedarkwoodtablewhereJude,Rob,andIusedto
eatisgone,replacedbyasleekmodernonethatwillprobablyfallapartinacoupleyears.Becausemy
motherhelpedmyuncledecoratethisroom,itwastheonlyspaceinthehousethathadremnantsofher.
Mostofthosehavebeenremoved.Atleastthefadedduckcurtainsshepickedoutarestillhanging.

WhatdidIexpect?ThatLizzieandJudewouldbecomeacouplebuteverythingelsearoundthem

wouldstayinstasis?Butthere’sawidegulfbetweenintellectualknowledgeandemotionalimpact.

JudeandIsitandcatchuponthebasicsasLizziecooks.Judetriesnottolookathertoooften,orlet

hisgazelandonherfortoolong.Ashetalks,hesidestepsanyreferencesImightnotunderstandand
makessuretobringuptopicsthatwillkeepmeintheconversation.WhenItellhimaboutmyyear
teachinginJapan,heaskstherightquestionsinallthecorrectplaces.Sothoughtful,socareful.Sonot
Jude.

Iamtheelectriccaratagasstation,theappendixabouttoburst,thesecond-placetrophyafteralosing

season.

AsmuchasIlovemybrother—asmuchasIowehimforraisingmeafterMomdied—it’struewhat

theysay:Youcannevergohomeagain.

Timetoplantnewroots.

Acknowledgments

Tomyhusbandandkidsforsupportingthisineverywaypossible.Thanksfortakingone(ormore)forthe
teamandbeingincredible.

ToSue,foryetagainreadingthelifeoutofthisbookandmakingitbetter.Andforbeingwhosheis.
ToNessforbetareading,toNatalieforfallinginlovewithJeffandhistruck,andtoAngieforbeinga

tigressandchampioningthesebooks.

TotheSassyBitches,LaylaReyne,AllysonCharles,andEvaMoore,forthewritingsessions,

support,andsnacks.

ThankstomyagentLauraBradford,myeditorEileenRothschild,andmypublicistTitiOluwo—allof

whomhadtobepatientwithmesinceIdidn’tknowanythingaboutanything.

Finally,toallthebloggersandreaderswhosupportedTellMeHowThisEndsandreadmywork:

Youmakeeverystruggleworthit.Muchlovetoyouall.

AbouttheAuthor

A U T H O R P H O T O G R A P H © T O N I B I R D

VictoriaDeLaOistheaward-winningauthoroftheTellMeromancetrilogy,includingTellMeHowThis
Ends.AnativeofCalifornia’sSiliconValley,shespendshertimehangingoutwithherfamily,arguing
aboutfilms,andpracticingWonderWomanspins.Shealsolovestalkingtoreaders.Findheronlineat

www.victoriadelao.com

.

Youcansignupforemailupdates

here

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AlsobyVictoriaDeLaO

TellMeHowThisEnds

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TableofContents

TitlePage
CopyrightNotice
Dedication
Chapter1:Sam
Chapter2:Jeff
Chapter3:Sam
Chapter4:Jeff
Chapter5:Sam
Chapter6:Jeff
Chapter7:Sam
Chapter8:Jeff
Chapter9:Sam
Chapter10:Jeff
Chapter11:Sam
Chapter12:Jeff
Chapter13:Sam
Chapter14:Jeff
Chapter15:Sam
Chapter16:Jeff
Chapter17:Sam
Chapter18:Jeff
Chapter19:Sam
Chapter20:Jeff
Chapter21:Sam
Chapter22:Jeff
Chapter23:Sam
Chapter24:Jeff
Chapter25:Sam
Chapter26:Jeff
Chapter27:Sam
Chapter28:Jeff
Chapter29:Sam
Excerpt:TellMeThatYou’reMine
Chapter1:Ryan
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor
AlsobyVictoriaDeLaO
CopyrightPage

Thisisaworkoffiction.Allofthecharacters,organizations,andeventsportrayedinthisnovelareeitherproductsoftheauthor’simagination

orareusedfictitiously.

T ELLM EN O T T O G O .

Copyright©2017byVictoriaDeLaO.Allrightsreserved.Forinformation,addressSt.Martin’sPress,175Fifth

Avenue,NewYork,NY10010.

www.stmartins.com

Coverphotographs:couple©Maridav/Shutterstock.com

ISBN978-1-250-12209-4(e-book)

FirstEdition:January2017

OureBooksmaybepurchasedinbulkforpromotional,educational,orbusinessuse.PleasecontacttheMacmillanCorporateandPremium

SalesDepartmentat1-800-221-7945,ext.5442,orbye-mailat

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