 
DRAMA GEEK

By

S.M. Dritschilo

PUBLISHED BY:

Suzanne Dritschilo at Smashwords

Drama Geek

Copyright 2013 by Suzanne Dritschilo

ISBN-13: 978-0-9895856-1-3

Thank you for purchasing this book. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without prior permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the only exception and must not be altered in any way. No alteration of content is permitted. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously for entertainment purposes only.

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following word marks mentioned in this fiction Converse, Dolce & Gabbana, Facebook, Toyota Prius, Doritos, Apple iPhones and iPods, Macy's, Gatorade, Advil, Disney, Doritos, Google, Barnes and Noble, IKEA, Oreos, Georgetown University, University of Maryland, Goodreads, ESPN, Kit-Kat, Claire's, Starbucks, Mrs. Fields Cookies, and Mattel's Barbie.

Any other omissions are purely accidental and unintentional.

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status, and trademark owners of the various recognized authors and their published works and literary characters mentioned in this fiction and includes them out of a deep respect for their work, and encourages you to discover their brilliance for yourself to immerse yourself in their amazing worlds over and over again as she does.

Young Adult Reading Material

This, my first book, is dedicated to you, the reader. I may never get to meet you, but know that I think the world of you, and the fact that you've shared your greatest treasure with me, your personal time, to read even a page of my story thrills my little heart until it's ready to pop. I wrote this thinking of you.

Smiles, Suz (come find me on twitter @SuzDC)

Chapter 1

The weekend before school starts, I find myself picking up the phone about to do the unthinkable.

"Remember a while ago when you offered to help me with some outfits?" I asked.

I listened to the click, then a single dial tone letting me know I had just been hung up on.

I shut off my phone setting it on my desk and shook my head.

There are great things about having the same best friend for the past five years. We know all of each other's secrets; you know no matter what, there is someone out there who always has your back. We even finish each other's sentences sometimes, so you learn to overlook little things--like when they hang up on you without answering your question.

I hear my front doorbell ring no less than 15 minutes later and go down to open it to find an unusually out of breath Laurel (unusual in that there are no boys around making her breathe funny). She is holding a small sewing machine under one arm while dragging a huge black trash bag behind her with the other. She must have pushed the bell with her nose.

"Someone make a house call for a tailor?" Laurel said beaming. She has wanted a free hand to attack my wardrobe for the last two years, so my call had to have filled her with boundless glee.

"I only called to ask if you wanted to help me mix and match a few outfits for school next week from a pile of shopping Mom and I did yesterday. I didn't say anything about sewing," I said taking the monster machine from under her arm. She flexed her hand to get blood flow back into her fingers as she walked into the hallway.

"Are you kidding? This is a rare opportunity I have been waiting years for. I am not taking any chances. Let me at that closet!" she said barreling up the stairs without looking back.

I closed the front door with an anxious sigh. Crap. I unleashed the fashion kraken. No telling what she has in store for me now, but I'll bet it's not going to be as simple as just mixing and matching. When it comes to clothes, Laurel does not do simple.

Two excruciating, at times physically painful, hours later my bedroom looked like a fabric factory exploded with clothes, scraps, and ribbons everywhere; there's not a single surface of my room without an article of clothing covering it.

My fear that Laurel wouldn't be satisfied with just giving fashion advice on color coordinating was right. She jumped straight into custom alterations that included lowering the bust lines on ALL my tops, taking in the side seams so my comfortable, slightly baggy short and long sleeve tees now fit me so snug they practically look painted on my body.

As the youngest of three girls with fashion designer parents, Laurel has a wardrobe filled with designer brand name hand me downs that a small, girly part of me secretly drooled over for the last few years.

The hems! Geez, she did not leave a single skirt or dress falling below my knees. They all stop just past the end of my fingertips when my arms hang down at my sides; they barely cover my thighs!

"How am I possibly supposed to sit down in this without flashing the entire junior class?" I ask her as she pulls the last straight pin from the, now very short, black skirt hem.

"If you're not THE single hottest girl all the guys are talking about the first week of school, it won't be because of your clothes," she confidently claims looking around at all her handiwork.

I flop back on my bed displacing two Dolce & Gabbana silk blouses she gave me. Laurel is the most generous person with the biggest heart. She also has four closets in her bedroom packed wall-to-wall and is always trying to get me to take some of her stuff since we finally wear the same size.

"Ugh. Guy talk again?" I complain.

"I swear you are the weirdest 17 year old girl I know Katie. How can you not think about kissing guys all the time?"

"You kiss enough for the both of us, so why should I have to too?" I tease. It's become an ongoing argument between us since last summer.

"This is true, but how can you not wonder what it's like? It's soooo great. When a guy is kissing you, and his lips are soft and warm, and his hands are wandering. Mmmm," she gave a pretend shiver and stands up laughing.

"I'm aware of what kissing involves Laurel. I have read about it. There's a kissing scene or two in some of my books," I tell her holding up my latest acquisition.

"There's book learning, and then there's learning first hand," she said grabbing my latest paperback out of my hands. Plunking it down on my desk was probably overly dramatic.

"I fixed your clothes. That's one thing I can finally check off my list. Next is getting you kissed before the year is up. "

"I've kissed a boy before!"

"That was five years ago. Sixth grade doesn't count. I'm talking a serious kissing. The kind that's so hot you set off the smoke detectors," she shivers again.

Once Laurel gets an idea in her head, it's nearly impossible to shake her resolve. I am more than a little nervous.

"Shouldn't I get to decide when/if/who I get to kiss?"

She flicks her hand in the air as if to swat away my suggestion, "you've had plenty of time, and more than a few chances. Time to take matters into my own hands, but don't worry I'll find lots of choices for you. Do you have a preference for blonds, brunettes, or redheads?"

Oh, crap. She has already moved on to planning mode. Junior year is starting to look bleak and the first day of school is still three days away. Fortunately, one of Laurel's weaknesses (there are few) is that she is easily distracted.

"What else is on this checklist of yours?" I ask with more than a little anxiety in my voice.

Laurel sleeps over Saturday night. After dinner, we continued talking about what we thought our third year at Chantilly High School was going to be like, both of us taking turns about what we hope to achieve. And that's how we come up with our Junior Bucket Lists; stuff we hope to check off the list by the end of our junior year.

Laurel's list, shockingly, mostly has to do with boy-related stuff: hooking up with a senior, talking Sam Hassan into letting her drive his Dad's prized Ferrari at least once, falling in love.

Mine's not quite as glamorous. Or ambitious: get a part in the senior spring play, get my own Facebook account, make honor roll, get my driver's permit (highly unlikely as I'm terrified of driving a car but totally not necessary either since I live barely half a mile from my school and Laurel has hers already), and have a REAL toe-curling-catch-my-breath-lightning-shooting-through-me First Kiss.

Laurel would not let up about the kiss and made me write out all the adjectives she was saying so I would know exactly what qualified and what did not. Apparently, quick pecks on the cheek, or a fast lip-to-lip lasting less than 10 seconds wasn't going to satisfy the requirements to be checked off the list.

When I asked her about the minimum time requirement, she explained that any lip contact with a guy that lasts more than ten seconds isn't going to stay simple, and will definitely involve some serious tongue action, which is seriously fun.

I'll take her word for it.

First day of school is always a little chaotic no matter what your grade. The day is spent finding all your classes, figuring out if you know anyone to sit next to in class, comparing schedules, seeing who's changed (Fat Tony) and who hasn't (all the Cheerleaders). In Fat Tony's defense though, his family owns the best pizza place in town and he was never what someone would call fat, just a little pudgy and overweight since middle school. He was always cute with thick curly dark hair, adorable dimples, and a wicked sense of humor, but holy cow! When he walked into school, so many girls' heads were turning to follow him with their eyes as he walked down the hall. He grew about 6 inches taller over the summer. Any pudge he had was now serious muscle. I wondered if Laurel would tag him for herself or me as a candidate to help with #5 on my Junior Bucket List.

Tony wasn't the only one with big changes the first day though.

Before Laurel went home yesterday, she chose an outfit and made me promise I would wear it exactly as she fixed it, or she was going to tell our friend Jaxon who replaced Ms. Thompson's coffee thermos filling it with mud back in the 7th grade. He was blamed, and earned a week of detention for it. I don't think she has proof, but better safe than sorry. I wore the outfit just as she instructed--including not pulling up my hair into my trademark 'boring' ponytail. This morning my hair is all the way down my back hanging in dark loose waves to just above my waist, even after a haircut last week.

Laurel can be bossy when she sets her mind to something. Thorough too, but I'm the one who has to deal with the Fashion Kraken's consequences today.

Walking into first period English, Laurel gave two thumbs up along with the biggest grin I have ever seen her give that did not involve a boy. I slipped into the chair next to her at the back of the room feeling nearly naked, and a little chilly in the shorts, except for my face that was very warm after I noticed a few guys in class turning their heads to smile at me.

Oookaaay. Low v-cut tank top, very high cut-off jean shorts, and gold hoop earrings get some attention. Honestly, I don't think the earrings did much of anything, but Laurel is all about accessories. I probably haven't worn this little clothing in public since I was a baby crawling around on the floor in nothing but a diaper.

I'm more than a little embarrassed, which my now pink cheeks make very obvious, but I have to admit it's also a little exciting to get this kind of attention after being known as 'the girl with the book', or 'Laurel's mousy friend', for so long.

She is thrilled with her handiwork. She is nearly unbearable. After comparing schedules, fortunately we only have two periods and lunch together. If I keep up with her alterations this year, that is probably all I will be able to handle having with her.

"You look gorgeous. Keep up the good work and keep an eye out for your #5 candidate. Catch you at lunch." Laurel said leaving me in the doorway. After the bell rings, she heads off down the hall to 2nd period with a wave.

A heavy accent behind me said, "Pardon, but might I ask you a question miss?"

I turn around to find a cute guy, a few inches taller than me (which isn't hard seeing as I barely clear five feet) with very blue eyes holding a class schedule in his hand. "Would you please tell me where I could find room 128?" he asks in the dreamiest British accent ever heard outside of a Hugh Grant movie.

"Huh?" Brilliant, Katie. That is the best you can come up with for a response, something barely above a grunt?

He flashes a sweet shy smile, "afraid I'm more than a bit backwards. I wasn't able to attend the new student orientation last week, and I won't be able to make my classes on time today without some assistance from a lovely, kind-hearted stranger."

Oh my God. I'm about to dissolve into a puddle right here on the floor. I blinked and gave my head a quick shake to snap out of it.

"Oh, sure, what was it again 128? That's the computer lab. No worries it isn't far. Just take the stairs over there. When you get to the top of the stairs, the lab is right across the hallway. Can't miss it."

"Thanks ever so much. I'll owe you a courtesy," he said sharing another shy smile that combined with that accent... OMG that accent! Laurel is going to be all over this guy fast once she hears him talk.

Lunch is a welcome relief. I don't recognize anyone in my 2nd period Spanish or 3rd period Chemistry that looks like it's going to be kind of tough, but I wanted at least one AP class on my schedule this year.

Looking past the packed tables of students, football players, and cheerleaders (is it some kind of law that they have to sit together every year?) I quickly find Laurel. She is a little hard to miss in her neon pink summer dress with her dark mocha skin and dark curls tinted with matching hot pink streaks. The guys are already at our table looking prepared for mischief as usual.

Both Jaxon and Eli give me a whole new kind of smile when I sit down across from them.

Eli barely lets a second pass after I put my tray down before he said, pointing at my chest, "well those are new."

"Actually they've been around since the 8th grade. You're just not that observant."

"Nah, I have built in boob detection. You've been hiding those puppies," he said chewing on the end of his straw while staring. Other kids call him 'Player' for a reason.

Even Jaxon cannot resist commenting, "Wow. Katie. That's um....quite a different look for you this year."

I cannot hold back my laugh. It is too funny having the two boys I have grown up with and known for years fall over themselves with goofy grins on their faces.

Laurel gives me a quick bear hug when I sit next to her letting out a little squeal.

"What was that for?" I ask her.

"I'm just so happy! You've finally joined the girl power club. I have wanted you as a member for years. I can see how much you're enjoying it too, the attention. Don't let the power go to your head ok? You'll need a few more lessons before you can fly solo," she said with a grin.

"It's been an...interesting morning. Very educational. Not sure what the afternoon will bring," I say as I try to tug down what little there is of my shorts, "but I'll admit I am kind of getting into it now."

Player and Jaxon begin debating between themselves the multiple ways they can take advantage of the fact they eat lunch every day with two hot girls when Laurel murmurs, "Don't look now but that guy has been staring at you for like ten solid minutes."

"What guy? Where?" I ask looking around.

"I said don't look," she told me pretending to be fascinated by her lunch while talking behind her hand, "he's at the table right across from us behind Jaxon, the guy with the positively bulging arms and the tight black t-shirt. Totally yummy. Girl power lesson two: Act casual. Glance up as if you're looking at the back door or something, but do not look right at him. You'll still be able to see who he is."

I try to put my new mentor's instructions into play glancing up casually to look at the back door, but I don't make it past the guy's eyes. He is definitely staring at me. I can't look away. His gaze is seriously intense. When he sees me looking back at him his eyebrows go up a little bit but he does not look away.

Do I know him? He looks somewhat familiar, but there are dozens of boys with slightly longer sun-bleached hair that comes down past the tops of their ears. Not everyone gets haircuts for the first day of school after a summer of being outside and at the beach. Like I did.

A small movement at the corner of his mouth draws my attention. Is he trying to smile at me? No way for me to tell because he's got his elbow up on the table now with his fist blocking his chin and mouth like he's leaning against it thinking hard while he's locked in a staring contest with me.

Laurel makes me lose when I look away after she pokes me in the ribs, "you fail your second lesson. That's not at all casual."

I mumble an apology about this being my first day. We compare schedules with the guys to see if we're in any of each other's classes. I practice my casual glancing a few more times at the new guy. Every time I look up, he's still looking at me.

Before long the bell rings breaking up our lunch bunch as we all head off to lockers and classes.

"Eli said we should start calling you hot stuff now," Jaxon told me sliding into the seat next to mine at the back of 4th period Algebra.

"Oh well, if Player said then by all means, because we always do what he said. Not," I laugh.

"Agreed, but...he does kind of have a point Katie. This is a whole new look for you. Just take it easy on us, ok? We guys are only human, and you turning out to be a real girl are a bit of a shock to us."

"Newsflash Jaxon, I have always been a real girl."

"Yeah but you've never been this much of one before," he grins waving his hand up and down gesturing at my body from head to toe.

A student sitting behind us lets out a little snort that makes me turn around to see who it is.

Holy crap. The staring guy from lunch is sitting right behind me. This close his stare is more unsettling and his shoulders look wider than the desk chair can handle. I twist back around in my seat to avoid his gaze. Gratefully our teacher Mr. MacGregor arrives and we jump right into equations without another chance to talk.

I don't have anyone in 5th period American History but I catch up again with Jaxon, Eli, and Laurel in 6th period Drama Class, plus a few Cheerleaders (ugh) and one very nasty Miss Tiffani Sobhiani (ruling drama queen). A thousand pounds of sugar could not make her even one ounce sweeter. The way she is giving everyone sour looks, her new nose job this summer didn't help either.

I try to tell Laurel about the new staring guy from lunch being in my math class but Mrs. G breaks us up into groups to start doing improv. There should be a rule about having to do actual schoolwork on the first day of school.

After school, Laurel is lounging out on our backyard patio furniture like a cat soaking in the sun. We are discussing our Junior Bucket Lists and what a great first day of school it was, when we hear the side gate open.

Bold as brass the staring guy waltzes into my backyard wearing the same tight black t-shirt that leaves no question he lifts weights, blue and white hi-top Converse, and gray running shorts that expose some seriously long muscular legs. We watch him look all around taking an inspection of the yard.

I sit bolt upright in my seat, "What the hell?"

"Who is that?" Laurel practically purrs when she sits up on the couch. She has had hot guy radar since she first grew boobs in the 7th grade--a whole year before me. Mine came in full and fine thanks, just a little later so No, I am not still jealous.

"Isn't that the guy who was checking you out all during lunch today? He is cute. Hmm, a potential candidate for bucket list item #5?"

"Shut up Laurel," I snap.

"Mmmmm, if you don't want him I'll be happy to take him off your hands for a little while," she purrs again.

We watch him make a beeline straight for us, or rather, straight for me.

"Figure it out yet?" he asks me.

He is staring again with this creepy ass, half smile. This has to be the most arrogant guy I have ever met. How cocky do you have to be to walk into some stranger's backyard as if you owned the place?

"Figure out what? What are you doing at my house?"

I am more than a little freaked. Is the new kid in school some kind of stalker?

"Hi, I'm Laurel and this is—"

"Kat."

What did he just say?

Finally, she sounds more alert, "What did you just call her?" Laurel asks him.

He is still looking right at me. "Kat. That's what I used to call her," he said.

Pretty sure I just stopped breathing. I can't inhale. My brain is on memory overload. Speaking is completely out of the question. He can't...been so long... what, six? Seven years?

Figure it out yet?

Holy crap. My wide eyes start to roam looking at his hair, his deep green eyes, so green (I remember that green!), his cheeks, and his mouth, his ears, anything I can use in an attempt to disprove what my brain is screaming at me.

"When we were in 1st grade, I bet her she couldn't stuff an entire Kit-Kat chocolate candy bar in her mouth all at once. She said she could."

"Adorable! Who won?" Laurel asks him. All casual, as if she's known him forever.

So much for loyalty from the BFF, huh?

Still not breaking eye contact with me that has now turned into a penetrating, possibly pathological, stare he answers, "She did. She stuffed three of them in her mouth at the same time. From that day on, she was always Kat to me."

"I have always said you had a big mouth Katie," she laughs giving my shoulder a little shove. Oh sweet mother of mercy, Laurel's turning on her giggles for this guy now too?

I can do this staring contest all day stalker-boy. I'm not blinking. Laurel suddenly shoots up off the couch clearing her throat, breaking my concentration. Dammit. She made me lose. Again.

"Well, it was very nice to meet you. I hope to see more of you very soon"

My soon-to-be-ex-best friend looks him up and down as if he's a giant ice cream sundae and she's about to break her no sugar diet.

"You too Laurel."

When she's almost at the gate she turns around and holds five fingers up in the air wiggling them at me with a big smile. At that moment, I make a silent wish that she wakes up with the biggest pimple in teen history on the end of her nose tomorrow.

"She seems nice. A little obvious, but nice," he said.

"She IS nice," I say defensively, "unlike weirdoes who just strut onto people's property like they own the place."

"Uh, I don't strut. Swagger from time to time maybe, but never strut."

He's not funny. I will not think he's funny. I'm quickly growing to hate that half grin. He's just standing there now. What is he doing? Why isn't he saying something? Where has he been for the past seven years? Not a peep from him, just standing there like a big tall statue, looking down at me.

Then he throws his arms open wide, "no hello hug for an old friend?"

He's kidding right?

I stand up but I'm still too stunned to think straight. "Josh what the heck...how are you here? I...where did you come from?"

His grin turns into a full megawatt smile lighting up his whole face. "You remember me! I jogged over. I live about three streets away."

We're just standing there staring at each other again. Maybe he's as stunned as I am?

"Why are you shaking your head?" I ask.

"I just can't get over it that's all," he said.

"Get over what?"

"Being taller than you, for starters."

"I'm not short," my all of five feet tall self said.

"I didn't say you were Kat. I just said I'm taller than you." Stupid grin.

"Of course you are. Most guys are taller than most girls are by our age. And my name is Katie."

"I don't remember it being that way," he said, "when I left you in 4th grade you were taller than me AND you were Kat."

Left me is the truth for sure.

"That was seven years ago. We grow up. People change."

The harsh edge to my words make an immediate impact to his expression and not for the better.

I am not going to be nice to him. What is he even doing here?

"Josh! I thought I heard voices back here. Katie can you believe it? You remember Josh from when you were little? You used to play together all the time when they lived right next door. His family moved back to the neighborhood a few weeks ago. I just got off the phone with your Mom. I could hardly believe it when she said you were on your way over."

My Mom (with perfect timing as usual) crosses the yard to give the overgrown tree trunk a hug. "I can't believe it. Just as cute as you ever were, and oh goodness! Just look how tall you've grown."

I may throw up.

After my Mom finishes fussing over him, Josh and I are alone again on the patio. When he notices the tree house in the back corner of the yard, he starts walking fast heading straight for it without asking.

"I can't believe the fort is still here. I can touch the floor now. I remember it being up so high and being huge."

I don't care how excited and genuinely happy he seems to be. I want him to stop touching my tree house.

"I can't believe it's still in such great condition," he said.

"My Dad and I refinished it last spring. A harsh storm last winter moved the left tree a little bit bowing out one wall. We put a new roof on and ran some electricity to it from the house. He wanted to turn it into a private reading space for me. It was a present for my 16th birthday." Why are you telling him all this Katie? Would you shut up already blabbermouth?

"Can I go in?" he asks.

I open my mouth to tell him exactly where he can go, but quickly snap it back shut. Suddenly I remember something I don't want him to see. Oh Dear God please do not let him look in the tree house and see it! Why did I ever agree to let Dad do that?

"Have you seen your old yard next door yet? They went crazy for everything Japanese a few years ago. They have a koi pond and a pagoda now."

I'm practically running toward the fence desperate to distract him but do I have to talk so loud and fast? Whatever. It works. He turns away from my tree house and his eyes are drawn to the book I'm still holding. What's with the little lopsided grin?

"That's right. You always had a book, or two, everywhere we went."

Why is he looking at me like that? His eyes are all soft and what is with that grin? What the heck is wrong with my brain?

He's softly patting the side of the tree house, "you read me all of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory up here out loud one weekend. I remember falling asleep to the sound of your voice."

Back when we had sleepovers together. SHUT UP BRAIN! Are we both thinking that?

I gave my head a little shake to clear it and blinked a few times. This walk down memory lane is starting to feel too intimate and majorly uncomfortable. We don't like creepy stalker guy remember? BUUUT, now we know he is NOT a stalker...

I can feel my cheeks starting to get hot so I turned to head back into the safety of my house telling him I have got a mountain of homework and I have to go.

"On the first day of school?" he calls.

"Later," I say giving a half assed wave of my hand without turning around to see if he takes the hint and starts to leave, or if he's still standing there.

"See you at school tomorrow Kat," he said.

Back in the safety of my bedroom, everywhere I look I see Josh; memories of him flood my mind. He is everywhere. Our favorite books, old albums collecting dust that are packed with his and my baby pictures, knick-knacks that are probably in the same place they were when he was last in my room in 4th grade.

Is my bedroom really safe? My home? Am I going to have any safe place anymore now that Josh has returned?

Chapter 2

Didn't get much sleep last night. Tossed and turned with all kinds of weird memory flashes of Josh and I when we were little. We went everywhere together from the time we were in diapers until he disappeared right before my 10th birthday. It didn't help when Josh and his parents were all my Mom and Dad wanted to talk about at dinner last night.

Laurel starts in the second I sit down demanding all the details in 1st period. I try to relay as much as I can without letting him know having him back is messing with my head right now.

"Wow. You were best friends for EIGHT YEARS? Geez. You and I have only been best friends for five years. Should I be jealous?" she asks me when we sit down for lunch later.

"Don't be ridiculous. That's not the same thing. We were just little kids. You are I are way more best of best friends than he and I ever were," I assure her.

"Whew. Then you won't be mad that I invited him to sit with us at lunch today."

That's my Laurel. Bombshell-dropper extraordinaire.

"You did what?!?"

"Come on. Where's your heart? He's a new kid in school and you're the only living soul he knows here. Are you telling me you're not going to help a totally cute guy feel comfortable on his second day at a new school?"

I hate when she's so logical. Her most irritating character trait to be sure. I don't have a chance to tell her what I think because there's a "Hey." right behind me that makes me nearly jump out of my skin. Geez, why am I so on edge now?

I look up over my shoulder at him. Josh is standing there with such a hesitant look on his face I cave with a mental note to Google 'BFF payback' tonight when I get home.

"Well, sit down already before you make me pull a muscle trying to look up at you," I tell him.

A quick half grin and he's on the bench beside me.

The table feels a little awkward to me now, but Laurel's chattering on to Josh bringing him up to speed on all the latest gossip. Only the second day of school and Laurel's hooked in like the Internet. I sneak a few sidelong glances at him between bites. I don't have a lot to contribute to gossip, but Laurel gets up to get something from the cafeteria line right when I was peeking and I meet his gaze. Dammit.

"Thanks for letting me sit with you and your friend Kat. I know it wasn't your idea, but it was really nice of you to let me."

Great. Instant guilt trip. It probably should have been my idea.

"Plenty of room. The guys are in Guidance rearranging their schedules today," I tell him, "you can meet them tomorrow."

"Who else do you eat with?"

"Just Player and Jaxon. Player's real name is Eli. He's a senior and a committed sex fiend; he hits on anything with a chest and a heartbeat and swore off relationships in the 7th grade. And he's proud of it. That's why everyone calls him Player."

"Sounds like an interesting guy," he said.

"That's one word to describe him."

"And Jaxon?"

"You saw him in Mr. MacGregor's Algebra class yesterday. He was the guy sitting next to me I was talking to before you laughed." It was a nice laugh too. Deep and throaty. The kind that makes you all warm inside and want to laugh with him. Shut. Up.

"Oh yeah. He was funny. He seemed to really like you."

"We've all known each other since the 6th grade. Five years together can feel like forever."

"So can eight," Josh said so quietly I have to look at him to see if he really said it.

His eyes are bright green. Sitting only a few inches away from me I can see they have little flecks of blue and yellow in them. His eyes catch the light in such a weird way; as they're flashing or something.

Across the hallway from my locker this morning, I overhear two guys in our school football team uniforms arguing.

"No way man, you're totally wrong that wasn't his first televised game."

"You're nuts. It was on just this weekend, they were running it on that Quarterback highlights show on ESPN."

They go back and forth a few more times like this getting louder, arguing annoyingly about what I have no idea, but then I hear a couple of names I recognize and then I remember watching a show with Dad this weekend that had the same names. Then it hits me, and I know they have it all wrong.

The words from the show are out of my mouth before I even realize it; I snort and say, "HA! It was the Packers quarterback who was out for some reason and Favre subbed in and chucked a 35-yard scoring strike to receiver Taylor someone or other with a minute left and they beat the tiger team by one point."

The guys stop arguing and I suddenly realize what I have just done. Way to go Katie, you just corrected a football player ABOUT FOOTBALL. A game you happen to know a sum total of ZERO about. Do you ALWAYS have to correct people? The tall one in the letterman jacket notices and he hollers across to me, "What?"

"What what?" I say.

"Did you just say something?" he asks me.

"No," I'm trying to come off all offended like he's nuts, but I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's nuts in our little hallway improv.

"So you just snort and yell HA! out loud for no reason and start spouting off football stats like you're an ESPN broadcaster?"

I think emphasizing the snort was a little unnecessary.

We've picked up a small audience as his friend and a few other people nearby are now staring at me. A senior jock talking to a non-cheerleader junior? This is not good. This is rumor-starter stuff. I feel myself starting to blush. Snarky stand or run and hide like a coward? For the record, I have always thought cowards were underrated.

"Yes, that's exactly what I do every Wednesday morning at 7.48am," ok, snarky response to the huge football player it is. Surprise numero uno for the day.

He looks at me with raised eyebrows.

"It's just that play you mentioned, I was watching it with my Dad yesterday on the ESPN Highlight moments, and it wasn't who you said it was." Katie what the heck is coming out of your mouth right now? "Majkowski didn't throw that pass to win against the Bengals. He was injured that game, Brett Favre chucked the 35-yard scoring strike to Taylor with a minute left on the clock."

His eyes go wide and his mouth about hits the floor, "You like football?"

"Like is a strong word, more like tolerate sometimes for extra parent points that might lead to extra allowance this week." I don't mention that I only remember those stats because that happened to be the only five minutes I was watching of the entire show. Oh crap. Now he's walking over here? Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.

Act casual. Super cute football guy seniors always lean against your locker looking at you with awe and their adorable lips. This happens to you every day Katie; nothing new to see here folks. Breathe already! I wish Laurel was here. She'd know how to keep talking. She's an ace at guy talk.

"So you're not a fan, you just use football to make money?" he teases.

"Doesn't everybody?" I risk a quick glance up at him while I'm trying to avoid looking like a dork stuffing books and rearranging papers in my locker for no reason. Before I have to come up with another half-witted thing to say, thankfully the bell rings and his football friend punches him in the shoulder with a "gotta go man" so I don't have to die an embarrassingly slow death in the hallway because I can't think of anything else to say to him.

"Catch you later," he said as he walks off with his friend. I turn my head just a little bit to watch him walk down the hall away from me and see him look back over his shoulder at me, and smile.

Whoa.

I close my locker, turned to head down the other end of the hall and noticed more than a few people throwing me weird looks as they all scatter to make it to class on time.

Wednesday, exactly what other surprises do you have up your evil sleeve today?

Second week of school holds almost as many surprises as the first. Lost British guy is in my 1st period English but doesn't say very much. Just keeps to himself though he does seem to know a lot about American Literature. Maybe he'd like to argue about Hemingway or Bradbury some time? It's hard to find a fellow bibliophile who isn't embarrassed about having more books than friends and clothes put together. I make a mental note to 'accidentally' run into him sooner than later.

Sooner comes when I'm crossing the parking lot to head home after a packed day of pop quizzes and homework assignments this week, (seriously the SECOND week of school?) when I hear, "Hello! Hello kind-hearted stranger?"

I turn to look for the cute British accent guy and see him running between the cars to catch up to me.

How cute is he in a turtleneck, but he must be burning up in this late Virginia summer heat.

"So glad I caught up with you Miss...?"

"Katie."

"Oh, I thought it was Katherine in Literature class," he said trying to catch his breath.

"It is, but everyone calls me Katie."

We chat for a bit before he offers me a ride home. I live less than a mile from school, but I accept anyway. Why not, he's cute and I cannot get enough of that accent. It's like having a Harry Potter novel come to life right next to me. Too cool.

His car is kind of an old sports car with a soft top. A convertible. His Dad's he told when he opens the passenger door. He drives the 8/10ths of a mile to my house that I could have easily walked, telling me he has a five-mile driving restriction on his license from his parents so my home is well within the school perimeter.

He's quite shy and I find I'm carrying the conversation almost entirely on my own, but with some monosyllabic answers from him I do find out that his name is Liam. He has moved around a lot, has a love of books like me, and wants to start a book club at school, maybe with some author visits. That would be awesome.

He talks just a little bit about how tough it is to move to another country leaving all his friends, but he's done it a lot, sometimes more than once in the same school year. His Dad is a diplomat so he has lived lots of places and learned not to get too settled. I start to feel kind of sorry for him. Sounds like a crummy life. I cannot even picture my life without my small group of friends close by every day.

The British are definitely polite that's for sure. When we get to my house, Liam runs around to open my door and carries my backpack. I feel like I'm getting the royal princess treatment. Faster than I'd like we're walking up to my front door.

On the porch though, it's feels like the awkward end of an awkward first date. How weird is this? He is standing in front of my door totally not picking up on my jingling keys signal that he needs to move out of the way. What? Don't they have the jingly key signal in England?

"Um, I sort of need to get to the lock," I say.

"Oh, of course. So sorry."

I unlock the door and step in and turn back to him "Well, thanks again for the ride home Liam."

"Happy to return the courtesy of a kind hearted damsel," he said.

"Ok, well, I'll see you in class," I take a step back and start to close the door to end the most awkward porch moment of all time when I hear him say, "Katherine?"

My full name? Really? Great, more awkward. Kill me now.

I open the door and lean my head out to see what he wants. Before I have time to react to the fact that his face is RIGHT THERE in front of me he said, "I, uh.." then whammo! His lips are on mine for barely a three-second count and then they're gone. Liam is backing up off the front porch fast, and he is halfway across my front yard waving his arm erratically as if he's having some weird muscle spasm. What, now I have the plague after he does an ambush kiss? He's mumbling something I can only hear bits of, "school tomorrow ...need ... club .... thanks ....call ....home now...." and then he's in his car and tearing off down my street.

What the...? Ambush kiss definitely does not qualify to cross off bucket list #5. Not even remotely. Even inexperienced-kisser me knows this without verification from Laurel.

Less than an hour later, I hear the doorbell ring from my seat on the back patio. Mom and Dad are working, and won't be home until dinner so my afternoon of quiet reading and drawing is disrupted when I'm the only one left to answer it. This better not be another computer program I have to sign for Dad, or I am going to start charging you for my time in shares of Barnes and Noble stock.

For a split second before I reach out to grab the front door knob, I hesitate, what if it's Liam? I say a silent prayer that it's not him and open the door to find Josh practically filling up the whole doorway.

"Hey."

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

"Out running, thought I'd stop by and say hi, see what you were up to," he said.

"Just reading and stuff out back, you want to come in? You want something to drink?"

Josh doesn't look that sweaty, but, Mom told me to be nice to him, so I play the good hostess getting him a glass of Gatorade. With ice. That should count extra, right?

I head back out to the patio with him trailing closely behind. Shoot! I left my notebook lying open on the table with the charcoal stick. Moving quickly I close it stacking my book on top as if I'm just tidying up the table before I sit back down.

No one sees drawings except Mom, Dad, and Laurel. And not even all the time. Drawing is too private. Too personal.

Josh stands there shaking his head again. Why does he keep doing that every time he is in my backyard?

"What's with the head shaking again?" I ask him.

He gives an easy smile that makes a little tug in my stomach. He is cute. A blind man wearing three pairs of sunglasses could see that.

"I just can't get over the fort."

"Tree house. And it doesn't fit you, so don't ask."

He gives me a look as if he'd seriously like to challenge that assessment, "we used to call it the fort," he said taking another drink draining the glass.

"I remember," I say a little too fast and defensively.

"Why'd you change it?" he asks.

"I didn't have anyone to share it with anymore, so I guess I thought it sounded stupid calling it the fort all alone with no one to defend it with me."

My biting remark hits the target dead center when his face goes completely blank. I immediately feel like a cruel asshat. Mom told me to try to be nice and he's been nothing BUT nice to me since the first day of school...which is the only reason I can possibly think of why I hear myself say, "Alright, if you promise not to break anything you can climb up there."

His face lights up like a little kid on Christmas morning as he sprints off to the back corner of the yard stopping at the ladder. He certainly does have one hell of a stride when he wants to run. He covered the half-acre yard in like five lengths. Bet it would be something to watch him run a race.

He climbs up the ladder slowly crawling in through the doorway. It looks like there's no way his shoulders will possibly fit through until he turns at an angle at the last second. He disappears inside popping his head back out a second later, "Coming up Kat?"

One eye roll later I start to climb. I feel his hand at my elbow helping me in and a little jolt of electricity zips through me. I try to inch over to the far sidewall.

"That's the biggest beanbag I have ever seen. It nearly fills up the whole floor," he said looking up with such eagerness all over his face.

"Go ahead. Flop down. Give it a try. Dad got it from IKEA. Everything you could possibly ever need to customize your tree house with comfort," I say smiling genuinely at him for the first time this week.

He accepts the offer crawling onto the top of it. Seeing Josh stretched out full length on the beanbag that I have spent hundreds of hours on alone is making that tug in my stomach quite a bit stronger and harder to ignore. Having him in my tree house...not a great idea anymore.

He props up on his side using his elbow to hold up his head looking around taking it all in. The book shelves on the wall, lots of my favorite books lined up by author and genre (he smiles to himself), then at the window, and then the little dark green side table with a lamp and bottles of water stacked on the shelf underneath it. Glancing at the table, I sneak a quick peek at his eyes wondering if I subconsciously choose that particular shade of green because of his eyes. I remember nearly throwing a fit at the hardware store when I was younger when Dad was trying to talk me into pink instead. Josh is still looking around the tree house, almost absorbing every detail when his eyes come to rest on the tree trunk that runs up through the middle of the wall to our left.

My heart involuntarily slams against my chest and I stop breathing for a second. Crap. I forgot. Crap. Crap. How could I forget?

He gets up on his knees on the beanbag and crawls a little closer to it reaching out to touch the picture frame.

He sees our initials carved into the tree, KO + JD with a smiley face at the bottom in a picture frame that Dad nailed up around it last year when we renovated. Josh slowly traces over all the scarred marks in the tree where he carved away the bark for our initials seven years ago. The marks are still there plain as day.

He pulls his hand back saying softly, almost under his breath, "I can't believe we both used to fit in here for sleepovers. My feet almost stick out the doorway now."

"Yeah, you've grown taller. Shocker. Can we go now?" I turn my head away to start moving on my knees along the narrow floor space between the beanbag and the long wall toward the doorway to climb out. I don't want him to see the tears I can feel brewing at the edge of my eyes, when his voice stops me before I have moved half a foot. His voice is barely above a whisper now.

"Do you hate me Kat?"

The question blindsides me and I'm not ready for it, or the pain I feel behind it, so I go on the defense, "I don't know you Josh."

"Yes you do."

"No," I say turning around to face him, "I knew a 10 year old kid half my lifetime ago. The guy in front of me, I have no clue about him. How could I?"

He stares at me for a long hard second before he said, "Fair enough," folding his hands behind his head leaning back to stretch out on my beanbag again, "ask me anything. Anything you want. I won't lie to you," he said.

Bold as brass.

"This is silly."

"Fraidy Kat. Fraidy Kat," he teases with a smile playing on his lips.

Is he seriously taunting me? "I'm not afraid of you. I just....I wouldn't know what to ask that's all."

"Ask me whatever pops into your mind. What do you want to know about me? Ask me anything at all," he flashes that lopsided grin, "I'm an open book."

Thinking for a minute while he lays there staring up at me, only one question comes to my mind.

I can't quite breathe but, I swallow hard before I whisper, "did you ever think about me?"

He doesn't hesitate for even a second before answering, "every day Kat. Every day."

My death grip on my emotions is about to slip. I let a small sniffle escape and Josh is up on his knees in front of me reaching out to pull me into a hug before my first tear can hit the floor.

I can feel his arms so tight around me and I hear him murmuring something into my hair but I can't understand it over my sobbing. I start to cry harder wrapping my arms around his back. He's really here in our fort and I can't believe it. I remember dreaming about it for so long after he first left and now it's come true.

"I missed you so much Josh. So much. It hurt so bad when you left," I cry. I can't stop. Thoughts and feelings I locked away long ago for self-preservation come pouring out of me in a tidal wave that I am helpless to stop.

Josh is real. Josh is here. Josh is back. Josh is real. Josh is here. Josh is back.

"I know Kat. I know. I'm so sorry. But I'm here now and I'll never leave you again. I promise," he swears.

"I didn't understand. One day you were here and the next day you were just....gone. My parents wouldn't tell me anything. At first I thought...I thought you died or something and they just weren't telling me!"

Josh's arms squeeze me even tighter, "Oh God Kat. I didn't know. I'm so sorry," he chokes out.

Now we're both a crying, hiccupping heap of entangled arms, childhood pain pouring out of both of us with each falling tear and gasp for breath.

No idea how long we stayed like that holding each other, sobbing, but eventually both our legs started hurting in that kneeling position so we curled up together on the bean bag, lying there quietly, both emotionally spent; neither of us knowing what to say next.

Josh takes a big cleansing breath and finally breaks the silence saying, "you know, the fort could really use some Oreos."

I start laughing against his side letting myself remember the hours we spent stacking and eating our favorite Oreo cookies up here, and I feel him start chuckling too at the shared childhood memory.

Just like that, I have my old friend back.

Chapter 3

The following Thursday after school, Liam shows up at the side gate unannounced as I'm coming out of the kitchen to the backyard.

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE?" Josh yells poking his head out of the tree house. I stifle a giggle and almost drop our Gatorade and chips and salsa. After Josh coming over practically every day to hang out with me in the backyard, we seem to have picked up right where we left off when we were ten years old. It was kind of weird and stilted at first until we started sharing what each of us remembers from when we were little, piecing our past together like a jigsaw puzzle, and then Mom dug out an album of pictures for us to help fill in the blanks.

Between that and having lunch and a class together, somewhere it just became easy to be around each other. So easy now, sometimes it feels like he never left.

"Oh my word, do you know there's a bloke there in your tree?" Liam's accent is so adorable.

"Just ignore him. He's a bit loopy today. He just heard he made the varsity track team," I say crossing the yard to meet Liam halfway.

"Are you and he...?" Liam leaves the question just hanging there and it takes me a minute to catch on to what he is asking.

"What? No. No! Oh Gosh no. Josh is just an old friend. We grew up together."

Relief breaks out all over his face. "Ah. Yes, good then. Well, um, Katherine I'm working on the decorating committee for the back to school dance next week and I was wondering if you'd want to accompany me as my date that night?" Wow. That is the most formal invitation I have ever heard. The accent makes the invite sounds regal.

"Sounds like fun. I'd love to. I had a bad head cold this time last year and had to miss the dance," ew Katie! A cute guy asks you out and you give him a mental picture of you with a drippy nose? Way to go. Lucky me Liam does not seem to notice or even care, "but you should know, I don't really dance in public."

"Excellent! Neither do I, really. Two left feet and all. So we have a date. Cheers then," and I swear he does a little skip backward through the gate.

"Kat's got a date! Kat's got a date!" Josh sings at me climbing down from the tree house.

"Remind me again how old you are?" I laugh.

"Gosh I have just got the dreamiest boyfriend ever," he teases clasping his hands together under his chin. The fake high-pitched girl voice makes me laugh so hard my ribs start to hurt.

"Shut up. Liam's not my boyfriend," I say handing him his glass, "he just asked me to the back to school dance that's all. He's nice. He didn't even care I don't dance," I tell him as we walk back to the kitchen.

"You don't dance? Seriously?"

"Well I do, but only in the kitchen. C'mon. You promised to help me with memorizing my lines for the One Act Play festival next month."

Chatting up a senior football player the first week of school, and another senior with an amazing accent asks me to a school dance—I ponder the world of possibilities as I grab my drink and the tray of snacks to head up to my room to study with Josh.

All in all, a pretty great start to my junior year.

Or so I thought.

Apparently running lines for the One Act Play festival is exhausting because Josh and I end up falling asleep in my bed. I'm dozing, half asleep, listening to Josh snore softly behind me. I'm also enjoying the feeling of his arm wrapped around my waist holding me tight against his stomach with his leg thrown over mine, probably more than I should if I think about it for more than two seconds, when I hear Dad call from the hallway, "Kitten the grocery store had some great sales today. Do you want crab cakes or lasagna for din---WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? WHY ARE YOU SPOONING MY DAUGHTER? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HER BED!?"

I may be a little groggy but I'm awake enough to register my Dad is about to have a raging meltdown. It also occurs to me that I have never heard him swear much less raise his voice. I realize this is not going to go well when he yells, "SARAH, WHERE'S MY GUN?"

"Honey you know we're not gun people," she answers from downstairs. How long has Mom been home?

I feel Josh quickly sit up behind me and for a split-second I miss the feeling of his arm around my waist but I don't have another minute to think about that because Dad explodes again, "THEN WHERE'S MY METAL BAT FROM SOFTBALL PRACTICE?" Dad points at Josh saying, "You stay right there. Don't. Move." Dad storms out of my doorway, his stomping echoing down the stairs.

Josh jumps off the bed stumbling to the door, tripping over his feet on the way there, scooping up his Converse with both hands, "is he serious? He's not serious is he?"

"Of course not, he finds guys in my bed all the time. Relax."

"WHAT?!"

I sit up throwing my legs over the side of the bed. "I'm kidding you spaz. Relax. We didn't do anything wrong and my Dad's a big teddy bear. He was just...caught off guard is all. It's kind of cute him being all fatherly and protective."

"It's not cute from where I'm standing! The words 'gun' and 'metal bat' are not good words for a guy to hear from a hot girl's angry Dad ok? Especially when the guy was just found in that hot girl's bed with her!"

Hot girl? Wait, what? WHAT?

"Look, I gotta go. I'll call you later if I can ok," and just like that the guy whose body warmth I can still feel bolts out of my room in untied shoes like the hounds of hell are chasing him. Which, I guess from his viewpoint, they are. I can still hear Dad banging around in the basement yelling when I hear the front door slam shut. Better go explain before he has a stroke.

Mom is in the kitchen calmly unpacking groceries when we both hear Dad yell.

"I CAN'T FIND THE SOFTBALL BAG SARAH!"

"It's on the shelf in the laundry room, over the sleeping bags and camping equipment."

"ARE YOU HOLDING HIM SARAH?"

"Yes dear," she said wandering around the kitchen putting away the groceries Dad just brought in.

Mom keeps glancing over at me without saying anything as she moves from bag to cabinet and back again.

I finally break the silence. "We didn't do anything Mom. We fell asleep while rehearsing my lines for the festival."

"I know," she said unpacking more groceries.

"I'm serious. Nothing happened."

"I know," she said as she puts a box of spaghetti in the pantry and a bag of apples in the fridge.

Her relaxed attitude is starting to irritate me, but I have no idea why.

"Why aren't you freaking out like Dad right now?"

She closes the fridge door to stand in front of me putting her hand over mine. "Because one, I know my daughter, and two, I found you guys snoring away about 15 minutes ago when I came to collect your laundry hamper."

"So why is Dad losing his mind right now?" I ask her.

"Your father is in...Protector Mode, for lack of a better term, because he just came face-to-face, literally, with the fact that his baby girl is growing up. This is how he's dealing with his new reality."

"By threatening my friend with guns and bats?"

"Don't be melodramatic Katie, you know your Dad didn't threaten anyone. Not really. It's more like...he put Josh on alert."

"What?"

"Think of this as Dad's way of letting you and Josh know there are going to have to be some new rules to your play dates," she said trying hard to keep her lips from curling into a little smile.

"Oh God Mom, please stop talking."

"I'm only half joking Katie. From now on, whenever Josh comes over, you'll need to be down here with us in the library, living room, or kitchen, or if he's upstairs in your bedroom, the door stays open the whole time. Got it?"

"MOM!"

"I'm not kidding Katie. Open doors at all times. Got it?" Mom does not use her serious Mom voice that often, but when she does, it definitely compels you to pay attention.

"Got it. But you don't have to worry. Josh won't be back in my room. This was just a one-time thing. It's no big deal," I say hopping off the kitchen stool to head back up to my room and far away from this conversation.

I hear Mom say softly behind me, "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

It was still warm out for the last week of September, so I chose one of my summer dresses with the thin spaghetti straps and the blue and white all over pattern. I could never decide if it looked more like splashes of soft watercolor or a lazy tie-dye job, but either way, the dress was always one of my favorites. More so now since Laurel altered the neckline turning it into a low scoop that shows of the barest hint of cleavage. When she first suggested raising the hemline I wasn't sure, but now seeing it float above the tops of my thighs instead of my calves, I can see her fashion sense was right. As always.

The past year I started choosing clothes with more abstract prints and lots of color. My Graphic Designer Dad said that's my artistic side coming through loud and clear taking over my life. Dad has been in a playful battle of wits with Mom the past couple of years trying to steer me to becoming some kind of artist over an academic every chance he gets.

My Psychiatrist Mom disagrees of course, though she is less subtle with leaving college brochures in my backpack about Georgetown University's Research Department and articles about the University of Maryland's new Technology program. She's cute. Weird, but cute.

So many times I have wished I had a sibling or two to draw away some of their attention.

When Mom dropped me off at the dance, I found always-the-fashionista-Laurel, wearing a shimmery chocolate brown dress that looked like someone dipped her in a vat of pure liquid bronze. The dress swirled around her with every move she made and looked gorgeous against her dark skin and new orange highlights.

Then again, Laurel would look gorgeous if she walked in wearing a trash bag--and she would wear the heck out of it too--with a pack of drooling guys trailing after her in five minutes flat. I'm lucky she takes it all in stride and makes a joke out of it. She could easily turn into one of those mean girls like Tiffani Sobhiani who constantly used her superpowers and self-confidence to enslave people, then abused them to get whatever she wanted.

We were sitting together on the gymnasium bleachers when we saw Player start walking straight toward us.

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes as he put a foot up on the bottom bench and leaned forward holding out his hand to me, "how about a dance hot stuff."

"Pass. I'm waiting for my date."

"Oh c'mon. The dude is obviously not here yet. I won't bite. Not unless you ask me nice," he said under his breath.

"Does you being overly obnoxious ever work on girls or do you just wear them down until they give in just to make you shut up?" I ask him.

"Actually it's my charm, personality, and acrobatic tongue that do it every time. It's a rare Saturday night that I'm not beating them off with a stick," he bragged.

"Oh I'm sure there's plenty of beating off involved in your Saturday nights Player."

"Katie!" Laurel exclaimed next to me.

Player was shocked too. His hand dropped to his side and he took a step back.

"Good one. Feisty. The Betty Boops aren't the only thing new about you this year hot stuff," he said with a huge, wolfish grin.

He turned to Laurel next, "how about you my little chocolate éclair? Want to get hot and sweaty on the dance floor and show these freshman newbies how it's done?"

And just like that his attention moved on to a new challenge as she grabbed his hand with a giggle. The girls call him Player for a reason, but he may have met his match in Laurel. She will knock him on his butt right in the middle of the gym if he steps out of line with her, or, even better he'll be swatting her hands away from his ass for a change; though knowing him he probably likes that too.

I wish I had an ounce of her confidence around guys.

Right at my moment of anxious self-doubt, new old friend Josh comes up to sit on the bleachers next to me.

"Hey."

"Oh hi, I didn't know you were coming tonight," I say pleasantly surprised.

"I wasn't planning on it, but my parents said it was a good idea and kicked me out."

"You look nice. The polo and khakis are a nice change from your two-sizes-too-small t-shirts and jeans," I tell him.

"Ha. Ha. Not as nice as you though. That dress is....something," he said with a smile, "more of Laurel's handiwork?"

"Yep. She didn't leave me anything that falls lower than just above my knees except a few pairs of pants for the winter, and even those escaped only because I hid them from her fashion fury," I say laughing.

"That's ok, I doubt you'd find even one guy here who'll complain. They'd probably be willing to put her on commission," he jokes back.

Before I can teasingly ask if that includes him, we see Player walk by and wink at us heading straight for another senior who is talking to a seriously well-endowed girl a few feet down from us. The girl has long blond braids, and is wearing a shiny purple dress with pink ribbons that make her look like an overage Disney princess. We watch Player go up to the guy, slap him on the back before saying, "hey Mark, how's your herpes doing man?"

I nearly fall off the bleachers from laughing so hard watching the poor guy walk away from the girl while flipping Player the bird behind her back.

Josh is laughing so hard he can barely breathe, "did he...did he just say what I think he said?"

I try to get myself under control when I see Liam walking through the crowd from the DJ table toward me.

"Good evening Katherine. You certainly look cracking. Would you like some refreshments?"

"Cracking?"

"Sorry, that would be stunning to you Americans."

I blush and smile as I take his offered hand to help me down from the bleachers, "yes, thank you Liam. It's getting a little warm in here."

I look over my shoulder to tell Josh bye and he mouths oh la la at me making me smother another laughing fit.

I lose sight of Josh for a while but see him later when Liam manages to coax me out to the dance floor just once for a slow dance. I catch Josh's eye where he is slow dancing with Laurel a few feet away. He winks at me with an infectious grin. Jaxon and Player are over by the snack table watching Josh and Laurel intently.

What are they up to?

I look back at Josh and Laurel just in time to see her slide her hand down to Josh's butt, giving it a good squeeze. The look of shock and embarrassment on his face are so absolutely priceless that I can't help but laugh out loud, startling poor Liam who's been holding me quietly at a respectable distance.

Before I can apologize to him, I look back to where Player is laughing his ass off holding out his hand trying to keep from falling over from laughing so hard. Jaxon is putting a five-dollar bill in his palm looking pissed.

I realize Josh has just been officially accepted by my friends, and it makes me feel warm all over.

In contrast, the fast awkward peck on the cheek I get from Liam when he drops me off back at my house a short time later, does not.

The next afternoon, Josh is in my bedroom and he is a little restless which is understandable since my Dad threatened him with a softball bat last week. Josh wanders over to my desk noticing I have the Goodreads website open on my laptop and sits down.

"Hey, I heard about this last year at my old school. Is this you?" he asks pointing to the screen.

"Yeah, but my profile picture stinks. It's two years old. I just haven't gotten around to changing it."

"That's you at 15? You look kind of cute with bangs."

"Laurel took it at the end of our freshman year when all the girls wanted to look like Kim Kardashian and bangs were all the rage."

"Yeah I totally wanted to grow my hair out long for the same reason," he said making me laugh so hard I almost snort Gatorade up my nose.

"What did you look like in 9th grade at your old high school? Have you kept in touch with anyone there?" I ask him.

"Holy cow! 326? Is that how many books you've read?" he asks.

"No, actually I was planning to do an update this afternoon to add the ones from the last few weeks but I got caught up reading."

I make a mental note that he always seems to change the subject when I ask him about his time away.

He gets up and starts wandering around my room poking through all my stuff--picking things off the shelves, turning them around in his hands before putting them back in place. It's weird.

I know I should be totally freaking out that this guy I have known about barely a month is in my room looking at my things but the last couple weeks we've just slipped into this weird easy manner with each other. Like the last seven years didn't happen and he never left. I try to remember if this is how I felt when we were little.

I can't, but I wish I did. Mom told me she remembers rarely seeing one of us without the other since we had our first play date at two years old.

Speak of the devil, Mom brings in my laundry giving me a little raised eyebrow reminder behind Josh's back as she leaves. I start folding clothes shaking my head at her.

"What's this?" he said snapping me out of my brain drifting. He's holding up a clear bottle.

"Lavender linen water," I tell him, "you sprits it on your sheets and your pillow. The scent helps you fall asleep."

He just shakes his head laughing a little bit and puts the bottle back on my dresser, "weird stuff happens in girl's rooms."

"Right. Like you don't do anything weird in your room either," I tease him, then suddenly feel my face on fire when I realize how that sounds.

"Red really is your color," he said laughing at me.

I throw a handful of clothes at him that he catches with his catlike reflexes snatching them in mid air.

I wouldn't have thought it possible, but I flame even redder in the face and feel burning hot when he holds up a pair of my purple thong underwear.

His shock is immediate when he realizes what he's holding but he still manages to get out, "um, these are...interesting. Early birthday present for me?"

"You are a dead man!" I yell launching myself off the bed at him to grab them back.

He drops my panties, spins out the door, and uses those long legs to clear the stairs three at a time to bolt out the front door with me hot on his heels. He's waving at me already half way up the street when I reach the front porch.

The next day at lunch Josh sits down across from me asking, "What's the lunchroom topic of the day ladies?"

"Kissing boys."

"Annnnd I'll be sitting over with the track guys today," he said standing back up before his butt can even hit the bench.

"Oh relax. You can give us the guy's point of view. Educate us," Laurel told him.

"My 'education' on that topic gratefully is extremely non-existent," Josh said grinning.

"No dummy, we don't mean you kissing boys, we mean kissing, in general," Laurel told him.

He looks down making an intense study of his lunch. Laurel doesn't notice and just starts plowing ahead when Jaxon flops down next to her other side and plants a kiss on her cheek, "Hello gorgeous."

"Hot stuff," Laurel said.

"Hey, I thought I was hot stuff," I whine.

"Player has dibs on that for you," Jaxon said.

"What?" Josh pipes up.

"Actually, I have to do this ridiculous survey project thing for math, so I'm making it having something to do with the other thing I'm interested in---fashion. What is everyone's favorite color?" Laurel asks us.

I spare only the slightest glance across the table at Josh before I answer, "green."

Player said "yellow" as he takes the seat next to me looking at Laurel's yellow body-hugging sweater (which had no influence on his response I'm sure.)

Jaxon likes orange.

"What about you Josh? Do you have a favorite color?" Laurel asks him.

When he doesn't answer right away I look up to find him flashing a wicked grin over at me. He said, "I don't know, but lately I'm kind of partial to purple."

I nearly choke on my fries. Player whacking me on the back does not help.

I flash Josh my best you-are-so-dead-look shaking my head trying not to laugh.

He's positively beside himself with amusement at my embarrassment.

Chapter 4

The first week of October in Virginia this year is mild, and as we sit down for lunch Laurel is sending one of her latest minions away as he's gently playing with the spaghetti strap on her tank top.

"Go on now. I'll see you later," she said patting his cheek with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand.

"He looks a little young. You may have to throw that one back to grow for a year or two," I say.

"Freshman, they're so adorable and so eager to please," Laurel laughs.

"Can I ask you a question without you getting mad?" Josh asks her.

"Nope," we say in unison then dissolve into giggles for a minute. When we catch our breath Josh is looking at us like we're crazy.

"Kidding. We're kidding, ask away."

"Do you ever worry about your reputation?" he asks her.

"What reputation?"

"About...being seen with all these different guys? I have never thought it was fair that people think it's ok for guys to hang out with lots of different girls, but when girls act the same way, it just never seems to work out for them."

"Oh, how sweet. He's worried about my virtue Katie."

I can't hold in my laugh and I almost spurt milk out of my nose.

"You guys making fun of me?"

"No. I mean it, you do seem sweet Josh. But to answer your question, no. I don't care about what other people think. Life's too short. I like kissing boys. So what? There are worse choices I could be making with my life," she told him confidently.

"Besides, everyone knows you're not an action attraction," I add.

"Action attraction?" Josh asks looking confused.

"Girls that guys get a lot of...um, action from," I tell him picking up my fork.

"Air quotes? Really Kat?" he teases.

I spear a tater tot pointing it across the table saying, "Our Miss Laurel here offers a strict one-item menu of ONLY kissing."

"Well, mostly. There have been a few exceptions, but still, only over the clothes stuff. All this," she gestures at herself with both hands from head to hips, "is strictly PG rating," she explains.

"Good to know," he said.

"Why did you ask? Feeling curious newbie?" she purrs leaning her arms on the table that presses her boobs together, "thinking about being Laurelized?"

"LAUREL!" OMG. I can't believe she just said that. Did that! With the wiggly eyebrows and everything. There is no end to her flirty bravado.

She laughs leaning back down in her seat. "What? He's cute and funny. He could use a haircut, but still, he's totally kissable."

"You know I'm sitting right here right?" Josh said.

"Oh look, I made him blush. Even more adorable."

"Did not."

"Your cheeks are kind of pink, I think you are blushing. I didn't know guys could get embarrassed," I say picking up on the teasing.

He bumps me with his shoulder and laughs. "Shut up."

"You shut up," I tell him pushing back just a little, "you're turning red. It's totally your color."

"That's going to cost you a tater tot," he said stealing from my tray. "HEY! Cut it out, tater tot Tuesdays are my favorite!"

Suddenly Laurel bursts out laughing from the other side of the table. "You guys are totally adorable. It's like I get to eat at the kindergarten table."

Before I start in on my bag lunch today (you learn early to avoid Mystery Meat Mondays in the cafeteria), I stop to look around the table at my three closest friends.

For so long it is always been just the four of us. The Four Musketeers who've known each other since the 6th grade and I can't imagine how I'd feel if any of them brought someone new to the group. I somewhat shoved Josh on them and I have been feeling like I should maybe check in to see how they feel about it before he gets here.

"You know, I never asked but, are you guys cool with Josh sitting with us at lunch?" My lunch bunch crew stops and looks at each other.

Laurel shrugs, "it's ok with me. The more boy eye candy the better."

I smile. Typical Laurel.

"He seems like an ok guy," Jaxon said, telling me, "but it's kind of weird that he never talks to anyone else in our Spanish class."

"Not even that mega hottie Amanda Pinsky with the long blond braids and huge ta-tas who's always wearing tight fitting peasant dresses and flashes you cleavage every chance she can? She was like the dirty version of Disney's Rapunzel at the Fall Dance. I LOVED it," Player gushes, "Josh is cool. He's no competition for me." He said getting up to go get some ketchup. Player's ego knows no bounds.

And just like that, the Musketeers have a new member.

I scoot over on the bench a minute later so Josh can sit down next me. He has a bag lunch today too. The boy learns fast.

We start unpacking and peek to see what each other brought. Have to know if there is anything swappable, or in his case sneakable. He thinks I haven't figured out he's the one who keeps swiping bits of my lunch on Tater Tot Tuesdays every time he asks me to go grab some more napkins.

"OMG. You BOTH brought meatloaf sandwiches? How weird is that?" Laurel said.

Josh and I laugh a little nervously at the same time. Did we really pack the same lunch?

"I always bring leftover meatloaf after my Mom makes it. It's the best. She doesn't cook that often, there's only like four things she knows how to cook without burning, and her Sunday night meatloaf is a classic not-to-be-missed. It's even more amazing the next day," I tell them.

"We had meatloaf last night too. My Mom said it was your Mom's recipe. It was great. Is it really even better the next day?" Josh asks me.

"Totally!"

"How cute is that? Your Moms are swapping recipes. Next thing you know they'll be planning your wedding," Laurel teases.

I feel my face flame at least three shades of red.

"I have always wanted a June wedding so I hope you're ok with that," he said with amusement.

Make those 10 shades of red.

"DON'T encourage her! You give her an opening and she will never let you go. Getting her to stop is like trying to take a bone from a starving pit bull," I warn him.

"Bones? We talking about boners, because let me tell you, that Amanda Pinsky is making me late to 3rd period every day because I can't get out of my chair for a few minutes after sitting through Spanish class with her in the seat right next to me. I may have to rearrange my schedule again this semester," Player said sitting down again, "or start wearing baggy pants."

We try valiantly to change the subject to get him to stop assaulting our ears about Amanda's newly acquired 'virtues' and his ongoing fashion problems but spend the rest of lunch period trying to not spit food out for laughing so hard.

Chapter 5

After school, Laurel talks me into sitting in a chair in the middle of a parking space in the school's back lot until she gets back from driving Sam Hassan's Dad's Ferrari he snuck to school today while his Dad is out of town on business. When any other car starts to pull in, I just keep waving them off, "move along, this spot's taken" without looking up from my book. They beep or flip me off (I'm guessing about the latter, because I cannot bother to look up. This new Rick Yancey dystopian has me completely absorbed.)

"Hey! Crazy reading person! This is a parking space, not a sitting space!"

However, Josh's amusement does pull my attention from the page.

"Hey, yourself. What are you doing out here?"

"Heading out to the track. There's a meet next week against Whitman and I need some extra practice to pull up my sprint ranking," he said cocking an eyebrow at me, "what on earth has Laurel talked you into this time?"

"Saving a parking space to help her cross an item off her bucket list."

Laurel shared her items with the guys at lunch last week. Player, being the only senior in our group, very generously offered to help her knock off two items at the same time if she wanted to make out with him, then fall in love with him. He promised he would let her down easy for the sake of their friendship. His offer brought a long round of laughs from all of us. Player? In love? HA!

When they asked about my list, I shared the first four, but Laurel and I could not stop laughing about how I 'conveniently' forgot what my fifth one was. Mercifully, the bell rang ending lunch, because I could not take much more nagging from the guys. They almost made me crack and tell them about the ground shaking First Kiss I'm required to have this year.

Standing there right in front of me in the middle of the parking space, Josh suddenly starts stretching out his calf muscles. The action makes his neon blue running shorts move in a such a distracting manner that I'm about to sarcastically comment that this isn't a yoga spot either, when he said, "sounds like one of her more crazier friend requests."

"Normally, I would say no, but her smile was so bright it was blinding my eyes, and she was so psyched my denial came out, 'of course I will'. It's not the first time her infectious enthusiasm has gotten me to go along."

"I thought her persuasive superpower only worked on guys?"

"Yeah, well, she has a way with girls too. I swear, since she moved here in 6th grade she's talked me into doing so many crazy things sometimes I don't know how I have survived not having a juvenile record this long," I laugh and watch him lift his ankle to grab it behind his back and something occurs to me.

"I have never seen you run," I tell him, "did you say this is your third year with a team?"

He thinks for a minute, "that's right, you haven't. Yeah, I've been running track and field since my freshman year. Why don't you come over to the track after you're done here? I'm going to be there for the next hour."

"It's a date," I say without thinking, then start to blush when he smiles, and I'm just sitting there with the words echoing in my head. It's a date.

"Ok then. See you in a few," he said giving me a quick wink and jogging off.

Moron. You probably haven't put your foot in your mouth this much since you were a baby Katie. How do your socks taste today btw?

I try to lose myself back in Yancey's apocalyptic future until Laurel's beep beep a couple minutes later told me my afternoon BFF favor has finally ended. Now I can head over to watch Josh run.

I walk through the gate entrance to the track and football field to find a seat in the bleachers right behind the fence and look for Josh on the field. I am more than a little self-conscious that searching for a pair of neon blue shorts in a crowd of runners means I'm basically publicly staring at everyone's butt or crotch until I find Josh's.

His running shorts that is.

My stomach gives a little butterfly flutter when he catches my eye when I see him sitting with another group of runners in the grass stretching out, and he waves up to me in the stands. I smile and wave back as his group starts practice. He has an iPod strapped to his arm and he puts in his ear buds before they jog to the track starting their run at a steady group pace. After half a lap, Josh and two other guys pull out ahead and increase their stride.

He really is incredible to watch. I know next to nothing about running, but he looks almost...graceful as he runs. The pace he is doing is so consistent and fluid, it almost looks like some kind of choreographed dance that only moves forward in a straight line.

After I watch him run for a while (I totally forgot my book sitting next me unread), on the last lap he crosses the track lanes to jog over to me at the fence. His shirt is soaked with sweat and he's breathing heavy.

"Hey....you stayed the whole time?"

"Of course, you're amazing to watch. The whole team I mean, it's really something how you guys all keep up."

His smile fills his whole face, "I have to take a couple of cool down laps so my muscles don't tighten up. Want to walk with me?" he asks.

Like I'm going to say no. "Sure, but only if you keep your distance. Guy BO is not exactly my favorite scent."

"Deal."

I leave my backpack on the bench and we start walking the track side-by-side quietly until I ask him if he always listens to his iPod when he runs.

"Yeah, the rhythm of the music helps me set and keep my pace. I put together a playlist that starts off slow and the beat works up to something faster that matches whatever workout I need that day."

"What are you listening to today?" I ask him.

He rattles off the name of a few bands that sound familiar. I just nod like a moron. I really don't know music at all.

"Want to listen?" he said offering me one of the earpieces hanging around his neck.

"Sure," I slide one into my right ear closest to him and he puts the other one in his left. We have to walk kind of close together so we can listen. He hits a button on his iPod and a deep smooth male voice and the straining notes of a guitar start flowing into my ear. The rhythm is low and steady, calming. It must be the end of his workout playlist. I'm starting to feel more relaxed after just a few minutes.

We walk a few laps around the track sharing his ear buds. We stop only once for him to change the music on his iPod to something with a little bit faster rock beat. When we come around again to where my backpack is I stop and return earpiece telling him I should probably get home. I have a mountain of homework in Chemistry, "but you go ahead and keep walking until you've cooled down."

Oh, that mischievous little half grin of his, "it only takes one lap to cool down, I just wanted to keep walking with you."

I can't help smiling when I give him a you are so incorrigible headshake.

"If you give me a minute to grab my stuff from my locker, I'll meet you out front and I'll walk you home."

"Ok," I say.

He keeps me waiting by the front of the school for another fifteen minutes. Did he forget where his locker was? Have they never heard of the term 'mountain of homework' at his old school? It is a clearly defined unit of measurement for inflicting pain on high school students.

Just when I'm about to start walking home alone, I see him come out the front doors. I almost don't recognize him. His hair is all wet which makes it look much darker than the dirty blonde I have grown used to seeing the last few weeks.

"I was about to leave your late butt. What took you so long?" I ask leaning down to pick up my backpack.

He grabs it before I can and throws it over his other shoulder along with his as if they're filled with nothing but feathers instead of half a dozen textbooks.

"Sorry I made you wait, but I couldn't risk offending your delicate sensibilities again with my manly BO, so I grabbed a quick shower in the gym lockers."

I blush a little bit, but this time my blush is from shame, mostly, and possibly from an involuntary mental image of Josh showering.

He was being considerate of me, and I reprimanded him for it. Way to be a thoughtless dumbass Katie.

"We'll, I'll forgive it this time, but you should know all of us well-mannered Virginia girls think punctuality is a highly sought-after character trait in guys."

"Duly noted," he grins back.

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Oh shut up, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Whoa, what's going on?" I ask sitting down next to Jaxon at lunch.

"Whoa yourself," Jaxon told me, "that shirt looks great on you. Red is really your color Katie."

"Thanks," I blush a little remembering when Josh told me the same thing in my room that afternoon when he held up one of my thongs, "it's one of Laurel's Dolce & Gabbana silk shirts. Actually, I may skip lunch today. I'm kind of afraid to eat around it."

"Feel free to take it off then Hot Stuff, we won't object, will we guys?" Player said sitting down.

"Yes you do," Laurel said glancing up at Jaxon.

"Oh for crying out loud girl will you let it go already?" Jaxon snaps at her.

"What is with you two today?" I ask them. They can both be pretty dug in with their opinions but it's never had this edge to it before.

"Jaxon has a secret girlfriend that he's not telling us about," she told us.

Whoa. That is big. We have never kept boyfriend/girlfriend secrets from each other. Ever. I can see why Laurel is a little upset.

"For the thousandth time, I DO NOT have a secret girlfriend!" Jaxon insists.

"Then who were you texting with last night when I tried to text you, hmmm?" she asks.

"I told you I was talking with a friend, how does that automatically translate into your crazy brain as 'secret girlfriend' Miss Crazy Brain?" Jaxon asks her.

"Josh you have two other classes with him, have you seen him talking to any girls a lot lately?" she asks him.

"Hey, I'm just the new guy, don't drag me into this," Josh said sitting next to me.

"Hm. Typical, boys sticking together. I'm telling you, I know you're keeping someone a secret and I'm going to find out who it is so you might as well just tell me now and save yourself the trouble Jaxon."

"You're crazy, she's certifiable. What's wrong, haven't gotten your daily dose of tonsil hockey this week yet?" he asks her.

Player raises his hand, "I have. But I'm always up for more Hot Stuff if you get bored with your books. That red silk is killing me over here."

Laurel crosses her arms giving Jaxon a withering look, "if you weren't texting a new girlfriend, then who was the message you accidentally sent to me meant for?"

Jaxon is suddenly very still next to me, "what do you mean?"

"You texted me, I miss you too, who was that message meant for?" She will not let up with this.

"I do miss you. You're bat shit crazy, but I miss you all the time," he told her.

She narrows her eyes and fixes him with a deadly stare, "I didn't text I missed you, I texted you asking if I could borrow your history notes for Unit 2. YOU wrote back, I miss you too," she just leaves it hanging and we're all holding our breath at this point waiting to see when Jaxon is going to crack.

"Bat shit crazy alright," and he gets up and leaves the cafeteria.

"That is one tough nut to crack," Player said, "now about that tonsil hockey..."

I spy Hot Football Senior Guy talking with Cheerleader Barbie in the hallway. I don't know her name but she's always sporting a blond ponytail and looks just like the doll, hence the nickname. I turn on my heel to head in the other direction before he can see me.

"Hey, red! Wait up!" I'm wearing a red shirt today but that doesn't necessarily mean me right? I look over my shoulder and he is heading straight for me. Crap. Too late.

I turn back around and wait for him to reach me. Cheerleader Barbie gives me a look like I am damn lucky she doesn't have a flamethrower handy.

He asks me if I saw him play on Friday. I take me a minute to figure out that he's talking about the school football game last Friday. Contrary to his first impression of me, I am not a huge sports fan, but I have thought about going to a home game sometime this year. Last Friday was an away game I think. Hope I guess right.

"Sorry, no. Didn't have a ride so I had to miss it," I say. Laurel would be so proud, my first on-the-spot-lie to a guy.

He looks disappointed for a second and I think he's caught me, but then he smiles, starts talking about how, "yeah, the away games never have as big an attendance as the home games," but they're home this week so maybe I can make it.

I make a non-committal grunt with a slight head nod that he apparently finds acceptable because he launches into a telling me about how he tried that swivel dance move I was talking about I saw on ESPN last week and it worked (ok, my second lie). The offensive something or other was totally faked out and he threw in a big shove at the last second when the guy was off balance that sent him nose first into the ground.

"I had to do something so my dance swivel didn't look too gay," he said.

Hot Football Senior Guy gets 10 points taken off his hotness level for using the word 'gay' as a negative. I hate that so much.

I adjust the book bag now digging into my shoulder and turn to start walking away when he reaches out to take it, "here let me get that, geez what did you bring home half the library?"

I bite back a nasty comment because his smile doesn't seem like he's teasing me. Then he offers to give me a ride so I don't have to carry the packed tote bag all the way home. I thank him explaining how I only live a half mile away so it shouldn't be a problem if he has any driving restrictions from his parents.

"That's ok, I can drive anywhere I want. I don't have any limits. How lame would that be?" he said.

We walk through the school parking lot and stop in front of a Toyota Prius.

"Is this your car or your Mom or Dad's?" I ask.

"My Dad is a di-- a deadbeat. Took off when I was three," he told me a little too clipped, "the Prius was my Mom's. She remarried when I was five. She and my Stepdad are total eco freaks. Our last spring break was spent touring a recycling facility down south," his accompanying laugh sounds a little hollow.

He doesn't seem as happy-go-lucky now. I feel guilty I brought up his Dad even though I couldn't possibly have known and now he's bummed out so I decide to change the subject fast when we he puts the car in drive. I see a picture of a young girl in pig tails taped to his dashboard.

"New girlfriend? She's a little young for a Prom date isn't she?"

Lucky for me he kind of laughs at my lame attempt at humor, "she's my little sister. She's seven and wicked smart. Like you," he explains.

Excuse me? He thinks I'm wicked smart?

"You wouldn't think that if you saw my latest chemistry exam. Four points lower and I'm grounded for a month," I tell him.

"Her room is packed with books. She likes to read, like you."

"What makes you think I like to read?" I do, but that is totally beside the point.

"I always see you reading a book at lunch or outside in the courtyard, and that tote bag in the back seat isn't full of rocks is it?" he jokes.

I can't talk. I might be in shock trying to process the fact that he noticed me at least two different times.

"I....didn't know you saw me," I stammer. Get. A. Grip. Katie.

"You're kind of hard to miss these days."

These days? Before I have time to ask him to elaborate, I'm home. Seriously, WHY do we have to live so close to school?

"That's my house up there on the right; the one with the big tree in the front yard and the red shutters."

I wait half a second, but he doesn't get out to open my door, or walk me to the porch. (Seriously what was I thinking? That every guy would be like Liam?) I'm a little disappointed as I reach for the door handle with my right hand. Suddenly he grabs my left arm.

"Wait a second Katie," he said.

I think my heart just stopped. I know it did. I can't breathe. Is the Hot Football Senior Guy actually going to kiss me? Crap. I didn't put on any cherry Chapstick after lunch and I sure can't ask him to wait a second while I fish it out from the bottom of my backpack. Are my lips soft, or dry and cracked? I take a quick half second to check with my tongue. Yep. They're good so I turn back to him, lean in, and close my eyes.

"Here, you almost forgot this."

My eyes fly open and he's lifting my book bag from the back seat to hand it to me.

Oh. My. God!

"Thanks. For everything," I say grabbing my bag.

Tear out of the car.

Race to the house.

Get inside before he sees your flame red cheeks of humiliation you moron!

Seven o'clock on the Saturday night before Halloween weekend finds me supremely ticked off.

Laurel just called telling me she has to bail on our horror movie night for some guy she just met at the mall that afternoon. Her BFF ranking just dropped a few levels.

Mom and Dad left an hour ago to meet some friends for dinner. Now I'm staring at a huge bowl of popcorn on a table full of pizza and junk food and no one to share it with when the phone rings. Better be her calling back to apologize and beg my forgiveness.

"You better be calling to apologize to me you raging ho," I say picking up.

"Why? What did I do? And I'm not sure I'd agree about the ho part, but I do think 'raging' is a bit harsh," the deep voice on the other end asks laughing. It takes me a second to match the voice to a name.

"Josh? Oh God, I'm sorry, no I thought you were Laurel," I say more than a bit surprised.

"Yeah, people confuse us all the time, it's getting really old," he said. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"How'd you get my number?" I ask him.

"My Mom's got it on speed dial. You're house is # 3 right after 911 and my Dad's office," he explains.

"Wow, we should feel special."

"Totally. Whatcha doin'?" he asks.

"Oh you know me. HUGE Saturday plans," I say then sigh, "to be honest, absolutely nothing. Laurel just bailed on our monthly movie marathon we had planned and my parents are out until later."

"Yeah I know. They're having dinner with my parents."

"Oh, you want to come over? Mom bought loads of pizza and junk food for us and it's just sitting here," I ask him.

"Sounds like a plan. Give me ten minutes. I'll be right over," he said hanging up.

I put the phone back and don't give Laurel another thought and instead head to the kitchen to grab some plates and napkins.

When the doorbell rings, I open the door to a big bag of Oreo cookies waving in my face.

"I brought dessert!"

We both start laughing and I think I'm looking more forward to movie night more than I have in a long time.

A little while later, we're hanging out on the living room couch both too stuffed to move. We're only into the second movie of our marathon when I let out a little scream grabbing Josh's arm to bury my face between him and the couch.

"OUCH! Sharp nails! That's the 3rd time Kat!"

"Sorry," I loosen my grip but don't let go, "I just can't stand that part."

"I thought you said you and Laurel watch horror movies all the time?"

"We do, but this is one of the more gory ones, and I always forget when that scene with the axe comes up."

"You want me to change the movie?" he asks.

"No. I really do like them."

"Then how about you sit on my other side to give the skin on this arm a chance to heal?"

I switch sides giving him a solemn promise not to maul his other arm. Much. The next thing I know I'm jarred awake by the front door slamming shut.

"Seriously what is with this kid? Why can't he sleep at his own house?" I hear Dad say from the hallway. He doesn't sound mad really, but he doesn't exactly sound happy either.

"Settle down Jim and lower your voice," Mom said.

"It's my house. I'll talk loud if I want to," he said as the phone rings.

"Shush. Katie? Josh? Hey sleepyheads, it's late. Time to go," Mom said coming into the living room.

I blink a few times and lift my head off Josh's shoulder elbowing him in the ribs. He yawns, stretches, and just looks at me all dazed and disoriented with this sleepy little half smile.

"Doesn't he have his own couch at home?" Dad hollers stomping off to the kitchen to answer the phone.

"My Dad's back," I tell him, my voice still heavy with sleep.

"Aw crap," Josh said as the reality of how it must look to my parents now has him wide-awake. They were expecting Laurel to be here alone with me all night. Not find Josh and me alone on the couch in the dark.

"Come on Josh. Jim can take you home," Mom offers.

"Thanks, but that's ok Mrs. O'Connell I can walk."

"His Mom's on the phone. She wants to know if we've seen him," Dad yells to us.

"Tell her he's on his way," she hollers over her shoulder to him looking back at both of us with a raised eyebrow and a hint of a smile.

Josh stands up and starts to leave, "guess I'll see you later Kat."

"Not so fast Mister Sleeps Anywhere He Wants. It's after midnight, we wouldn't want you to trip in the dark and break a leg or anything now would we? I'll drive you home and we can have a nice little chat along the way," Dad told him, "after you," he said jingling his car keys at Josh.

"Yes sir," Josh said giving me a parting look over his shoulder that said how about a little help here Kat?

All I can do is shrug my shoulders in response and try not to smile. He is so busted.

As Dad closes the door behind him I start to get up and head to bed when Mom stops me.

"Stay right there young lady. You and I need to have a little chat of our own."

Crap. Looks like Josh isn't the only one who's busted.

"I'm digging the sweater. Nice knockers," Player told me as he sits down to lunch the next day, "what's with the long face hot stuff?"

I jump when Josh drops his lunch tray on the table next to me a second later with a loud bang.

"Jesus Josh. You too? Who pissed in your Wheaties today?" Players asks him.

Josh and I give each other a look and shake our heads at the same time.

"Seriously. You both look miserable. What's wrong?" Laurel asks taking the seat across from me right next to Player.

"I'm grounded all week no thanks to you AND my parents shut my phone off," I snap at her.

"I was wondering why you weren't answering my texts yesterday. I fail to see how this is my fault. What did you do?" she asks.

"If you hadn't bailed on me for some guy, you would have been at my house Saturday night watching movies and I wouldn't have invited Josh over instead," I tell her.

"This story just got waaaay more interesting," Player said propping his elbows on the table and leaning in.

"Sounds to me like whatever happened was worth the punishment," Laurel teases.

"It wasn't like that!" Josh finally said.

"We just fell asleep on the couch watching movies all night while our parents were out having dinner together," I tell them.

"What a wasted opportunity," she mumbles taking a bite of her sandwich, "so what sentence did your non-lecherous activity get you Josh?"

"Extra chores all week and no phone. Oh, and can't forget the lovely little talk your Dad gave me in the car when he drove me home," he told me with a dirty look.

"Hey! Don't get mad at me. It's not my fault. You didn't get the 3rd degree from my Mom like I did after you left," I tell him. The conversation EVERY 17 year old girl wants to have with her Mom about personal responsibility and condoms vs. the pill. I'm burning all the way up to my ears remembering what the good doctor said.

"No, I just got a 15 minute lecture from your Dad about how a young man needs to make responsible choices AND how he found his softball bag!"

"It doesn't take 15 minutes to drive from my house to yours."

"He drove past my house three times circling the block Kat!"

Crap. I'm so embarrassed and I'm sure my face is on fire but I'm so mad I can't sit still. I get up from the table with a huff. Leaving Josh fuming, and Laurel and Player with their mouths hanging open looking stunned.

I can't even see straight I'm so pissed that I nearly run straight into Hot Football Senior Guy coming in for lunch while I'm trying to make my escape.

Double crap.

"Whoa, hey Katie, everything ok?" he asks me holding my arms.

"Not exactly. I just want to get out of here and back to class," I tell him a little out of breath.

"Ok, I'll walk you there, you look like you could use a friend."

He couldn't be more right.

Chapter 6

Friday afterschool finds me sitting on a bench outside near the back tennis courts with Zach (Hot Football Senior Guy actually has a name) laughing and talking about my now non-existent sports knowledge I have just confessed to him when he suddenly tips up my chin with his fingers.

"It's okay if you're not a huge sports fan after all. There's other stuff we can do besides talk sports," he said.

He's staring at my lips. Holy crap! He's starting to lean in and my heart is pounding so hard in my chest I think it's going to bust out like an alien movie. I just know he's leaning in for a kiss this time. He is so close I can smell the root beer he had for lunch still on his breath, and what do I do? Do I instinctively tip my head back, part my lips slightly, and wait for the earth to shake when his lips meet mine for the first time?

Nope.

I pull back my whole body and just stare at him. What the hell? Helloooo? Earth to Katie. What the hell was that?

He looks confused but before either of us have a chance to say anything Cheerleader Barbie flounces over with a perfect pout swinging her tennis racket as if she wants to brain me with it. She starts telling him she missed the afterschool activities bus. "I'm heading to your house anyway tonight to babysit your little sister could you give me a ride?"

"Uh, sure," Zach told her.

When he bends down to pick up his backpack, I'm the lucky receiver of her best 'so-there-would-you- just-die-already' look as she twists her racket in one hand. He clears his throat as he gets up off the bench, hesitates, and looks back down at me.

My brain isn't fully functional yet, but I know I definitely don't want to talk about what just happened any time soon. So I scramble enough brain cells together to make the lightning fast decision to bail him out and say, "I have got a meeting at 3pm in the auditorium for the One Act Festival so I better book it or I'm going to be late."

I look down at my pack, unzip the top, and act as if I'm repacking my stuff while mentally wishing them to please leave, please leave, please leave, please leave.

Cheerleader Barbie must have picked up on my silent signals because she grabs his arm and starts pulling him toward the parking lot giving him a perfectly lip-glossed, shiny pink smile, "C'mon Zack, WE can't be late either." Ugh.

They both take off and I'm left sitting there. I do not want to think about what just happened but I cannot find the off switch to my brain and my heart is still pounding fast and hard like a drum.

Zach just tried to kiss me and I pulled away. WTH?

I drop my head into my hands, blink a few times, and try to get a grip. I have about a whole minute to myself when someone practically throws his body onto the bench next to me.

I open my eyes to see a familiar pair of blue and white Converse on the ground next to my black flats.

"Cheerleader interruptus. Sucks to be you doesn't it?"

"What do you want Josh?"

"Two seniors in two months. Don't want to burn yourself out. Plenty of time left in the school year and lots more guys to get through before Prom night. How will you ever choose?" he said his voice dripping with nastiness and innuendo.

I must be in shock. Did he just insinuate I'm some kind of skank? How can he be so harsh? I feel my eyes welling up with tears. Unbelievably I have no smartass comeback. I'm too shaken and stunned.

"I can't believe you just said that to me," I tell him, but it comes out shaky because I'm about to lose whatever small grasp I have holding myself together. I'm not mad, it just...hurts. What happened to my funny friend who's been hanging out with me the last couple months?

I grab my bag and book for the auditorium for a final rehearsal for the One Act Festival that night. I leave him there to choke on my last hateful words.

"I wish you never came back."

A few hours later that night backstage at the One Act Play Festival I'm going over lines in my head and trying to mentally psyche myself up for our scene--failing miserably.

At the end of our scene, I have to kiss Jaxon.

A REAL kiss.

Will the kiss do anything for me? I don't know. Every time we came to that part in rehearsals, Jaxon did something that made me laugh so we haven't actually had a chance to kiss yet.

He's a cute guy with a mess of dark hair that almost falls into his equally dark eyes, but I have known him practically forever. Could I even like him like that? I just don't know.

You can't force people into these intimate acting scenes and situations without consequences. Don't we learn anything from celebrities who start dating after starring in a movie together then have a massive, ugly public break up a month later? I know I wouldn't want to lose Jaxon as a friend, but he is cute and fun to be around. GAH! Brain you have to calm down. We are about to go onstage in front of hundreds of people. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

For our scene, Jaxon's character is a soldier going off to WWII. Our scene is supposed to be dramatic and heartbreaking because we're in love and realize that he might never come back. This might be the last time we ever see each other again.

Without warning, my mind is flashing back seven years to the last time I saw Josh when we were ten. I didn't know I'd never see him again after that day. It was just a normal day after school for us like so many hundreds of other afternoons we had shared.

Would I have cried if I knew I'd never see him again?

Yes. The answer comes to me quick.

My mind fast-forwards to our fight this afternoon.

I wish you never came back.

Suddenly Jaxon's next to me with a big hug, "We're on baby! Break a leg," and I watch him stride onto the stage in his brown old-fashioned soldier's uniform.

I wait for my cue then step into the light moving on autopilot through my lines. Time moves in a blur and before I realize it, we are at the end of our scene.

Jaxon takes me in his arms for a fast fierce hug then we pull apart for the kiss. Everything moves in slow motion for me as his lips come down to mine.

The kiss lasts barely two heartbeats and I'm left staring off into the curtain wings as he passes by me to walk off stage right.

There are no fireworks.

The ground doesn't shake beneath my feet.

The auditorium is absolutely silent and still. Then I feel my legs go out from under me as I wrap my arms around myself and drop to the floor.

I wish you never came back.

The scream that rips out of me echoes off the auditorium walls before I curl up on stage sobbing to thunderous applause.

We win first place in the dramatic performance category. Hooray, for making personal pain work for you.

Josh calls me first thing Saturday morning to say he was sorry about yesterday afternoon. He was a jerk, was still pissed that he lost a track meet the night before, still a little angry with his parents about grounding him after our movie night, and he vented on me. No excuses of course, but he is really really really sorry for being such an ass and it will never ever ever ever happen again.

I forgive him but only with the promise of a severe, incredibly traumatic, humiliating punishment to be determined and delivered without notice at some date in the immediate future that will possibly involve a rabid porcupine, a jar of honey, and a handful of fire ants.

Jaxon and I are all everyone is talking about at school Monday.

A basketball player stopped at my desk before English class that morning to say he saw me at the show Friday night and that what I did on stage was cool. He had no idea I could do that. His girlfriend goes to South Lakes High School, which hosted the acting festival. She dragged him to the show but he really liked my part. His great grandpa was in WWII and he remembers family stories about when he went to war.

"It was like watching one of his stories come to life," he said telling me how I made him catch his breath when I fell on the floor and cried out. He couldn't look away and was telling everyone that night how he knew me and goes to my school.

"Wow. Thanks. I'm glad you liked it," I say so surprised and more than a little embarrassed.

The celebrity status continues through lunch. Kids start clapping when Jaxon and I walk in to the cafeteria.

"Don't look at me," he said pushing me a little with his elbow, "I don't think they're my fans. I wasn't the one who had the audience spell bound last night."

Lunch is spent oohing and ahhing over our performance with students stopping by our table to congratulate us. Zach gives me a big whoop! and "Way to go Katie!" from the football/cheerleader table that makes me flush. Even Liam shows up, though he doesn't have our lunch period. He said he was just walking by and heard the ruckus. I get a gentle pat on the back from him accompanied by a "well done thespian." He is sweet, but I do not see a second date in our near future, or him as a likely contender for bucket list item #5.

Josh is super quiet all through lunch, but in Algebra he slips me a note dropping it over my shoulder where it falls into my lap.

I'm sorry I missed your show. I feel like an even bigger asshole. Everyone's talking about it. I should have been there for you. It sounds like you were amazing. No surprise there. When you get a part in the spring play, I promise I'll be there front row opening night. NO MATTER WHAT!!!

I reach down to give his outstretched leg next to my chair (where it's parked now every day) a reassuring little rub that we're good. He gives my chair leg three taps back.

Chapter 7

Saturday afternoon I run into Josh, almost literally, when I'm out biking. I come around a corner too quick and he's right there in the street. He grabs onto my handlebars catching me before I wipe out.

He's all sweaty in a tank top and running shorts that leave very little to the imagination, but my imagination has been very active lately with Zach and Liam and kissing Jaxon on stage. I try distracting myself with how beautiful it is out today and glance up at the huge Poplar Tree in the yard next to us.

In Virginia, summer can last well into fall sometimes, but I'm looking forward to the leaves changing into vibrant bursts of orange and red any minute.

"You have such a weird look on your face right now," he told me.

"My face is not weird."

"That's not what I said."

"Oh. Well, I was just thinking how Autumn is my favorite time of year: warm fuzzy sweaters, the fresh crisp scent in the air, apple cider, fires in the fireplace, hot cocoa, all the leaves changing colors and falling. I can hardly wait for it all to kick in."

"I sort of remember it. Didn't your Dad used to make huge piles in the back yard for us to jump in from the top of the fort ladder?" he said.

"They both did. I missed you at lunch today."

"Aw, you missed me?"

"Not like that, you big goofball. Where were you?"

"I was buried under a mountain of books in the library. What are you doing this weekend?"

"Player told us about a senior girl who is throwing a Halloween party a couple of streets over in our neighborhood. Her parents are out of town but supposedly she has an older brother home from college and he has a rock band," I tell him.

"A college guy huh? That Player knows?"

"Yeaaahh. College guys," I say wiggling my eyebrows and flashing my lame attempt at a wicked grin, "Laurel is grounded this weekend. She said it's killing her that she can't go. I'm heading to her house right after the party. Supposed to spy and report back what everyone's costume is and rate the hotness of the college guys she's missing out on. It's going to be fun. You should come. I don't have anyone to pal around with since Laurel's on house arrest."

"I'm working on a PowerPoint team project in history and I can't get one of the people on our team to email me their part. Looks like I am going to have to rework their whole section this weekend if they don't send it so we can get the project in on time. I won't be able to make it. Besides, my Mom wants me to help hand out candy. What's your costume going to be?" he asks.

"I'm not sure yet. I'm not really into the whole dressing up thing."

"Said the girl who wants to act in the spring play which is all about dressing up."

I playfully punch his arm and my puny fist meets a solid wall of muscle. Ow. And, wow.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something interesting Kat," Josh said with a grin and runs off up the street.

I decide to draw whiskers on my face with a black eyeliner pencil and a little black triangle for a nose.

Kat. Cat. Josh and his subliminal messaging.

A black t-shirt and tight black leggings complete my feline transformation. Laurel will be disappointed in the boring simplicity and lack of accessorizing, but I decide this is the best I can do without her supervision, and head out to do my first reconnaissance mission for her.

I get to the party a little bit late, but no surprise, I find the cheerleaders have come dressed as slutty, well...everything: slutty nurses, slutty bunnies, slutty Disney princesses (don't need to be a psychiatrist to figure out there goes the last of your childhood innocence). There are more than a few slutty cats too which, if the looks they keep throwing my way are any indication, my homemade black cat costume does not compare favorably.

After about twenty minutes of mindless wandering saying hi to random people I know, I sneak off to an upstairs bedroom trying to escape the brain-pounding music the 'band' is cranking out in the living room that's starting a major jackhammer headache at the back of my skull.

I knock softly on the first closed door and receive a "DUDE! OCCUPADO! FIND YOUR OWN ROOM!" in reply. Moving on.

I hear a door close behind me and turn to head down to the end of the hallway. The next door I try, thankfully, has no one yelling at me from the other side when I knock, but still I open it just a sliver to be sure, and call out into the darkness of the room, "Sorry to interrupt. Just me, Katie O'Connell, Chantilly High junior looking for a few minutes of quiet to escape the music. Anyone in here?"

The band is still so blaringly loud I can barely hear my own thoughts, much less if anyone is in here, but just then there's a break in the music and from the back of the room I hear a male voice reply, "just a friend".

Then the base kicks in again thumping up through the floorboards so bad I can feel it under my feet with each step I take into the room. Closing the door behind me I exhale in relief then start to wonder which male 'friend' is sharing the dark with me.

Turns out, I don't have to wonder for long.

I run my hand along the wall closest to the door trying to find a light switch when the voice from the dark said, "Don't. Please don't turn on the light."

Who the heck is in here? I can hear his words, sort of, but I can't recognize his voice clearly enough through the din of the music that I swear is going to shake the house down to a pile of rubble any minute.

Whoever he is, his eyes have obviously had longer to adjust to the dark than mine.

"Who are you?" I ask into the room's darkness.

"You don't know?"

"Duh, if I knew I wouldn't have to ask," was that a little laugh from the other side of the room?

"It's.....a friend."

"Yeah, I got that part earlier. A friend of mine? Do I know you?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Look, I can barely hear you over the music, my head is pounding, and I'm not exactly in the mood to play 20 questions," I say.

"What are you in the mood for?" Crap. That voice was clearer and way closer to me now than it was when I first came in here. Even though the voice sounds playful, it's beginning to dawn on me that being in a dark room, alone with a strange guy, is so not going to win me any sound judgment awards.

"Not much tonight," I say as I start backing up to the door.

"Please stay." Crap! The voice is right in front of me now but I still cannot recognize anything about it except that it's softer, and pleading.

Stupid college band drowning out everything.

My brain starts arguing with itself. What if this is some huge college guy getting ready to pounce on me? What if he's a cute, not-so-huge college guy who just wants to fool around with absolutely no interest in pouncing? Do you remember any of the self-defense moves you learned in the one free karate lesson you and Laurel took a year ago? What if he really is someone you know? What then?

"Please," the voice whispers softly, close enough now that I can feel his breath on my face. My lungs lock up. His breath has a kind of minty smell. Like his having good oral hygiene is going to matter? My heart's pounding faster but I can't make myself move away. I blink a few more times; shouldn't my eyes have adjusted by now? All I can see is a guy standing, maybe inches, in front of me and he's tall. Taller than me anyway which isn't saying much.

Is it sick, desperate, or just plain stupid that I am actually feeling more excited than scared now? Do bad guys use soft pleading voices? Of course! But I don't seem to care. How stupid is that?

The arguments in my brain come to a grinding halt when I feel his hand begin lightly rubbing up and down my bare arm. Why is that making me breathe faster? His fingertips are so light they leave a trail of goose bumps where he touches my skin. I feel his whole body move closer to me at the same time he puts his other hand on my waist, with a light squeeze before resting it above my hip. I swear I can hear my rapid breathing over the rock music and my heart is hammering in my chest in time with the base downstairs. Can mystery guy can hear it too?

As he leans his head down to my left ear, I hear him make a noise in the back of his throat like a half growl, half mmmm-yummy sound. Why but this makes my heart race faster and my stomach flip upside down. Crap does this mean I'm kinky? Getting excited making out with a stranger in a darkened room? I should leave, but I seriously do not want to. I want to see what happens next.

His lips softly kiss my temple near my hairline, working their way down my neck to nip at the bottom of my ear. THAT's what's next! My legs start to feel like jelly while my stomach has started doing back flips. Is this hyperventilating? I will feel like such an ass if I pass out right now.

Suddenly, my hands are on his waist grabbing at handfuls of his shirt to steady myself, but all I can think is how hard his stomach muscles are. I need to know what they feel like skin-to-skin. Before I can stop to think twice I slip my hands under his shirt, and that's when that little sound in the back of his throat turns to a full on moan in my ear.

For a split second the voice in my head yells, what the hell are you doing Katie? But the next moment his mouth finds mine in the dark and I can't think any more. I am nothing now but a fireball of sensations everywhere. How he tastes (cinnamon), how he smells (fresh soap), how his stomach feels under my palms (rock hard but silky smooth too), how easily his tongue darts in and out of my mouth (OMG!), how he manages to suck on my bottom lip and my tongue at the same time (Double OMG!).

All my senses are on maximum overload.

So THIS is kissing!

The next thing I know I'm moaning louder than the music downstairs and I'm sure everyone can hear me.

I also know I could not give a damn if someone paid me a million dollars to.

Please keep touching me.

Please let me keep touching you.

His one hand has moved up from my waist to my back, under my shirt where his fingers and thumb are going back and forth from stroking all over my skin to digging into my back to pulling me hard against his whole body. His other hand is buried somewhere in my hair at the back of my head. My mind registers this is the best hug ever.

I have no idea what I am doing, but I cannot stop myself. My hands and lips have minds of their own. The one singular thought in my head is that I am starving for the taste of his lips; I cannot get my fill and I want more. So. Much. More.

While our lips are nonstop on each other's, my hands are rubbing everywhere along his bare back, his spine, his ribs. I feel bold and reckless as I reach down to grab his butt pulling him up against me. I can feel how excited he is.

The new knowledge does not scare me. It thrills me. He moans louder into my mouth, almost growling now, his fingers dig into my skin. I tilt my head to take the kiss even deeper as fireworks explode inside my body.

That is the moment when he takes his lips back and I feel disoriented for a minute.

What just happened? Where did his mouth go?

We're both breathing so hard and so fast. I'm still crushed against his chest with both of his arms wrapped around me so my whole upper body is moving in time with his heavy breathing.

Is he shaking?

I try to tilt my head back to find his lips again, but he just keeps his cheek pressed next to mine depriving me of what every cell in my body is now desperate to feel again.

"Oh man....oh man, I have dreamed about doing that for so long you have no idea," he manages to say between ragged breaths.

His voice is hoarse and raspy. I can't even string two single syllable words together. My lips are throbbing, my body's on fire, and my mind is total mush.

"I have to go. God knows I don't want to, but, I really have to go," he told me. The next minute I'm left standing in the middle of a dark room, dazed and confused, and totally alone.

What. The. Hell. Was. That?

My heartbeat and breathing slow down. My brain fog begins to clear as I reach up to touch my swollen lips. One thought comes blazing through my head. He knows who you are but you have no freaking clue who he is! And now, he's gone!

He just crossed #5 off your junior bucket list (and then some) and you have No Idea Who He Is!

RUN YOU IDIOT! RUN AFTER HIM!

I tear out of the room blinking a few times when the hallway light painfully strikes my eyes. Once I can see again, I race down the stairs nearly tripping over a couple making out. I nudge them with the tip of my shoe demanding to know if they saw a guy just go past. I get a lovely 'Fuck Off Cat' for interrupting them and head to the bottom of the stairs trying not to fall and break my neck in the process.

I stop on the bottom step to look around the living room. There are people everywhere talking, dancing, drinking, some making out in corners (lucky bastards). He said I know him. What guys do I see that I know?

Everyone looks calm. No one looks flushed or is breathing heavy like I am. I catch Player's eye where he is standing by the fireplace talking with a tall blonde. He winks and blows me a kiss. No way! It couldn't be him! He looks too relaxed right Katie? He should be all hot and bothered like me. But he is tall with some serious AB muscles I remember him showing off at the pool last summer. Dear Universe, please do not let it be him.

I look to my right into the family room desperate to find another guy I know. I see Jaxon leaning against the wall talking with the good-looking redheaded guy from our drama class. Jaxon looks up and gives me a little smile. Is he being shy? Would he feel shy if I figured out it was him? Jaxon could not be the guy who I was just tongue wrestling with and rubbing up against like a cat in heat. The guy who kissed me at the One Act Festival and the mystery guy upstairs cannot be the same boy.

Zach walks out of the kitchen carrying a coke and stares at me with a look of pure surprise on his face. He's wearing a superman t-shirt and being on the football team for two years would definitely give him a defined body. Would he look shocked to see me so soon after making out?

I don't know what to do, and panic begins to claw at my insides. I can't catch a full breath. The music is still blaring and my head is back to pounding at full force now that I'm closer to the band. I make a snap decision to call it a night and head for the door nearly colliding with Josh coming in. He grabs my arms to keep me from falling back.

"Easy there Kat, where you running off to? Is the party over already?"

"For me yes, but there's plenty of food, drink, and girls flying solo left if you're interested. I have to go." It all comes out in a harsh rush as I push past him to get out of the house.

I need to clear my head.

I need some fresh air and quiet.

What the hell was I thinking?

I quickly stalk down the sidewalk to my house a few streets away. I'm supposed to sleepover at Laurel's tonight to report back on the party.

I can't face her yet.

She's like a human lie detector. I won't be able to hide anything from her, and I'm not ready for anyone else to know what just happened. Not even my best friend. Especially since, I have no idea what just happened.

I hear someone running up behind me; if they're planning something stupid, boy did they pick the wrong girl tonight. I am so on edge I feel like I could knock out a heavyweight boxer with one punch.

"Kat! Kat, slow down will you?"

Just my luck, it's only Josh.

I slow down a little and he falls into step beside me.

"You ok? You seemed upset back there."

"I'm...I'm fine, just a...a bad headache that's all. The music was too loud and I couldn't take it anymore." Not a total lie.

"You want me to walk home with you?"

"It's a free country," I snap at him.

"Oookaaay."

There is no reason to be such a short-tempered jerk to Josh right now. He's just trying to be nice. I stop abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk and try to do some Zen yoga breathing like Mom taught me--blowing out all the bad (deep exhale), in with the good (deep inhale), out with the bad, in with the good. A few more times sucking in the crisp October night air and my head feels a little clearer. My mind is a little calmer. My shoulders relax and drop.

The music and party are far behind us now. I'm calmed even more by the comforting familiar sounds of nearby crickets and the gentle breeze rustling the last of the leaves desperately clinging to the branches overhead. I have a better understanding of that kind of desperation now.

I start walking again, a little slower this time, "sorry I was so mean back there."

"It's ok. Did something happen at the party?" he asks.

"Not that I want to talk about. No offense, but we're still figuring out how to be friends again, you don't just dump your problems on a new friend."

"It's ok. I get it. But, technically, I'm an old friend, not a new one you know."

He makes me smile even when I don't want to--definitely a good friend quality to have.

We walk together for a few more blocks in peaceful silence. I have calmed down, a lot, but my mind is still racing.

What was I thinking? I have never done anything like that in my life. I have never felt anything like that in my life.

Is kissing like that for everyone?

That could explain why Laurel likes kissing guys so much. She is always saying I should try it. What I did tonight? Probably not quite what she had in mind for my first kiss. She is going to go nuts when I tell her.

Did I even do all that? I grabbed a strange guy's butt in the dark and then.... Oh. My. God.

A shoulder bump jars me back to reality.

"Penny for your thoughts," Josh said.

"Worth more than a penny tonight, mister."

"Really? Why?" he asks.

Gratefully we are at my house now and I do not have to come up with a convenient lie.

"I thought you were going to Laurel's tonight?" he asks me, stopping to lean against the big oak in our front yard.

"I was, but I'm...just not feeling up to it now. I'll call her tomorrow with all the party gossip."

"Gossip? Like what? Anything good to share with the new guy?" he asks me.

"Oh, you know...the usual...who wore what, who brought alcohol, who had too much to drink and threw up, worst costume/best costume, who was making out with who."

"Whom," he said quietly.

"What?"

"I think it's 'who was making out with whom'."

"Sounds right. Sorry Grammar geek, my mind is just mush right now."

"Why?" I notice Josh is quiet and watching me closely. Could he know what I did? My hand instinctively goes to cover my lips as if to hide what I did. His eyebrows rise up the tiniest bit.

Does he know the guy? What if my mystery guy has already blabbed about me all over Facebook. Holy hell. I could be the new school slut in less than an hour. That is all it takes anymore. One split second of stupid for a whole years worth of pain and humiliation.

My head is starting to hurt again.

"I have to go. I'll see you later," I turn to run into the house without looking back but I hear him say behind me, "See you Kat. Sleep well."

Chapter 8

The rest of the weekend was spent avoiding Laurel's calls and beating myself up wracking my brain trying to figure out whom the guy was I got all hot and heavy with at the party.

Monday afterschool I'm still thinking about it while waiting outside the English department office.

I start to feel flushed just remembering it all, and heaven knows there was a heck of a lot to remember.

I'm leaning against the wall waiting for Mr. Valasko who apparently has forgotten our appointment to review my English assignment, so I'm trying to focus my attention on Melville's Captain Ahab and his white whale hunting while I wait. But, all I can think of is the party Saturday night and who my mystery guy is when Player leans against the wall next to me.

"The cantaloupes are looking lovely today," he said lifting a hand toward me as if he's going to grab a handful.

"Touch and die," I say smacking away his hand, "I am not in a mood to be messed with this afternoon."

My icy tone must have registered in his one-track mind. He pushes off the wall to stand in front of me with his hands up so I can see his palms.

"Hey just kidding Katie. I may be an asshat but I'm not a dick. There are rules. I never put my hands on a girl without a clear invitation. And I have plenty of invites believe me," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. His face is blank, not a hint of joking.

Could I possibly have hurt his feelings? Player has feelings?

"Wow. You're totally serious aren't you?" I say.

"Of course. Any guy that has to force himself on a girl, that's just..." He's actually pissed. I can't believe it. "There's not enough vile words I can think of for a dick move like that. It's just wrong. One hundred percent wrong. Always. You don't treat people like that, especially girls."

I snort a little, "I can't believe it. You are actually human underneath it all. Don't get me wrong, there's a crap-ton of obnoxious piled on top of it, but it is there."

Lightning quick his mood changes and that wolfish smile slides back in place as he puts a hand on the wall on each side of my head and leans in, "I'm a complex guy Katie. Care to find out what else is underneath?"

There is no stopping my ear-to-ear smile. He is just so...Player.

"You're positively incorrigible," my giggling can't be suppressed either.

He smiles wide and laughs along with me, "If that's one of your fancy vocabulary words that means you think I'm hot, I'll take it."

"Not even close. It means you can't be corrected, improved, or reformed."

Why am I still laughing and talking with this goofball? I cannot be turning into one of those girls who giggle at boys all the time for their attention like Cheerleader Barbie. If I do, just kill me now.

"Improved?" he pretends to be offended putting his left hand on his chest, "why would anyone want to change little ole me. I'm perfect just the way I am."

He reaches up to tug a strand of my hair free from my headband and tucks it behind my ear and glances back down to catch me watching him. Just that fast, the moment of giggling silliness shifts to something else. The look in his eyes is anything but silly. He's serious again.

"Maybe you're the one girl I'd change for. Maybe you're the one who would make me want to change." His voice is silky smooth and so sincere.

My brain is starting to fog over. I am more than a little wary. What is he up to? Neither of us is smiling now when Player rests his free hand on my shoulder and his thumb starts making little circles on the side of my neck that are making me want to jump out of my skin. He tilts his head to the side, and starts to move closer never taking his eyes off my lips. I self-consciously lick them and he sucks in his breath. I think I dropped my book a while ago because now both my hands are on his chest and we are barely an inch apart. His breath is hot on my cheek and now his lips are right next to my ear whispering in a shaky voice, "what are you doing to me little bookworm? I'm thinking about you in ways I never have before in the last five years."

He is breathing hard and fast, I can hear it and feel his heart racing under my palms. My ragged breathing is almost keeping time with his rapid heartbeats. All I can do is close my eyes and be grateful the wall is holding me up as he gently rubs his cheek against mine. His lips are agonizingly soft as he drags them up to my temple. Do they pull senior guys aside and teach them that move or is he just a born natural at it? My brain clicks back on. My eyes fly open.

Didn't mystery guy do that Saturday night? Put his lips softly to my temple?

"Were you the one Eli?"

I don't even realize I said it out loud until I hear him answer, "I could be the one you want."

Just as he pulls back and starts to bring his lips toward mine, a small part of my brain that is still functioning hears the heavy metal doors at the end of the hallway open. The sound jars me back to reality and I look to see who is coming in case it's Mr. Valasko. Before it registers with me how I must look with my hands on his chest and him so close he's practically pressing me against the wall with his whole body, Player said loud and clear, "Dude, your timing royally sucks."

My brain fog clears just in time to register the fury on Josh's face right before he turns on his heel throwing the door open so hard it slams against the wall. The deafening sound in the small hallway makes me jump.

The weather is not terribly cold for mid-November, but even wearing a thick cable knit sweater dress and wool leggings and my old Ugg boots, I am still shivering all morning. I see Zach coming out of a class and I am still shivering but not for any good reason. He stops to ask if I'm okay. I explain that I'm just a little chilled, "county must be too cheap to turn on the heat this early in the year," I tell him my teeth nearly chattering.

Zach surprises the heck out of me by taking off his varsity letter jacket to drape it around my shoulders. He orders me to slide my arms into the sleeves and zip it up before he heads to his next class.

"Your next class is out in the trailers right? It's majorly cold out there you'll need it to keep warm." He waves off my objection with, "it's no big deal. I'll pick it up after lunch. See you in a couple of hours," and then he is gone around the corner.

I head to class then lunch, warmer, but still shivering a bit. The chills are still with me and now my head is pounding as if someone is jack hammering inside my skull.

When Josh sees me at lunch, he looks like he's still furious for some reason. I figure he's mad about seeing me and Player in the hallway last week, even though nothing happened, and why would he even? But, that's not what's bugging him today.

"How convenient your football boyfriend was around to lend you his jacket," he snaps at me before I can even sit, more like fall, down onto the bench wincing. My whole body suddenly feels like one giant bruise and I am feeling so woozy. Must be low blood sugar I think as I try to start eating and ignore his nasty tone.

"He's not by boyfriend. He was just being nice," I explain.

"Yeah, I see him lending his most prized varsity jacket to girls all the time."

I am wondering why he should care. Why do I care that he cares? He's acting like he's jealous and being mean to me on purpose.

Why? Is the last thought I remember before I pass out, just missing falling face first into my mashed potatoes.

Flu is no one's friend. Trust me on this. Catch it just once, and you will become obsessed with washing your hands and sterilizing everything you touch.

Josh visits me while I'm home recovering. Being stuck at home in bed for a week is not fun; after the first couple of days, incredibly boring hour after hour after hour. Josh has had his flu shot this year, but Laurel didn't. She is terrified of needles and has a severe allergy to eggs (BFF secret), so she can't have the flu mist. Both of which also mean that she can't come visit me during my parent-imposed quarantine.

"She's super pissed she can't come see you," he told me.

"And you're enjoying it."

"A little bit. Yeah," he laughs.

I love hearing his laugh. How can someone's laugh make you feel warm on the inside?

I'm so loopy today.

"My throat feels like it's on fire and my face is all puffy," I complain.

"It's a good look for you," he said.

"You're a terrible liar."

"Seriously. You make sickness look good. I didn't think your eyes could sparkle any more than they usually do."

"Am I that loopy or did you just give me a compliment?" I ask.

"Don't sound so shocked. It's what friends do."

"Oh now you're my friend?" I ask him.

"I have always been your friend Kat," he said softly.

Awkward pause. It hasn't felt like it lately.

"I know it probably hasn't felt like it lately, but that's my fault. I'm pigheaded and stubborn, but I am loyal. Get used to it," he said.

I'd like to. I missed not having him around making me laugh the last couple of weeks.

When he spills the broth down my chin for a second time trying to help me eat, I tell him he'd make a lousy nurse.

"Ouch. You just talked yourself right out of a sponge bath missy."

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts my head," I say wincing.

He gives my hand a little squeeze and told me he's going to go and let me get some rest.

"Not yet. Just a few more minutes," I beg. The isolation with no one but myself or daytime television to keep me company all day is getting to me.

He smiles and sits back down. I start telling him about the guys that came over to visit and their pros and cons hoping he can help me decide which one is the best.

"A couple of them have tried to kiss me and I have thought about kissing them back, but I'm just not able to for some reason. Something always interrupts or goes wonky."

I notice his face starting to look somewhat angry when I'm talking about the other guys. I figure he's back to being all mad at me again thinking I'm some kind of school skank, so I try to explain.

"I'm not a wild, random kisser like Laurel or anything. It's just these four guys."

Wow. Four guys. That sounds like a lot when I say it aloud like that.

"Good to know."

"Be nice, there's nothing wrong with that. Laurel's a good girl," I tell him.

"I didn't say she wasn't."

"I'm not so sure I'm a good girl though," I say.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course you are," he said.

I look at him again. He's so big for my computer chair. He looks like he's sitting in a little kid chair, especially when he keeps swiveling back and forth it in like that.

"I used to think so, but now....I'm not so sure... there was this amazing guy a couple weeks ago."

I start to tell him more but I see the chair go still. I know he's uncomfortable hearing me talk about other guys, but if he's really my friend, I should be able to tell him right?

"There was this guy at the Halloween party..."

"Kat, you don't have to tell me."

"I want to. I want to tell someone. I have to tell someone. I told Laurel," (a little bit, just enough for her to agree I can cross #5 off my bucket list), "but I can't stop thinking about it. About him. It was just...so...just the most amazing night of...my whole life."

"Why?"

"He was just..so..amazing...see there was all this loud music, but then my head was pounding so hard...so loud...and his hands were just....and I wanted to....and his mouth...ohhhhh myyyyy God, Josh this guy's mouth...and his hands...and his butt were just...so..."

"Amazing?"

I look back over at him and he's smirking. What's with the grin? And why is his face all blurry. I blink a few times to focus, but he's still blurry...wait, who turned out the lights? Ok, wait, there is his face again.

"Kat. Kat? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just...what were we talking about? Man it's hot in here. Why'd you turn out the lights?"

Now Josh's blurry face isn't smiling, he's got wrinkles all over his forehead. Why is he putting his hand on my forehead? Do I have wrinkles too?

"MR. O'CONNELL!" Why is he yelling at my Dad? That is not a good move friend.

I can't keep my eyes open but I can hear people talking. I just can't figure out what they're saying. It's like I hear them from the end of a long tunnel. I start to drift in and out. Every time I manage to open my eyes just a sliver, there's more people in my room, some are wearing uniforms. Where did all these people come from?

"Kat! Kat! Look at me! Stay with me! KAT!"

Josh?

Josh?

The first thing I see is white tiles with hundreds of dots. My eyes feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each and my head is throbbing as if a bongo band has been using it for practice. I try to get up and I can't. There's a hand holding my shoulder down. I try to turn my head to look at the hand but it's so hard to move. I want to cry or yell but then Mom's face is floating over me.

"Katie. Sweetie. How are you? Don't try to move just yet ok?" Floating Head Mom whispers.

"Mom? Where am I? What happened?" Man my throat is on fire.

"You're in a hospital. Your fever spiked to 106. You were delusional. Daddy called an ambulance that brought you to the Emergency Room."

"What? When?"

Floating Head Mom is starting to cry, "last night. You've been unconscious for almost a whole day sweetie. I need to go tell the nurse you're awake, but I'll be right back I promise. Don't try to move ok?"

"I won't. Trust me."

Mom comes back with the nurse who messes with buttons and rearranges tubes and bags hanging on a rack next to me. She seems nice but she has the most annoyingly chipper way of talking.

"How are we feeling today dear?" she asks.

"Just peachy. Like I got hit by a Mack truck. And you?"

"Hmmm, feisty. That's good, considering you've been unconscious for 22 hours straight."

"Guess I needed a nap."

"Not quite," she said.

She starts writing notes on a clipboard at the foot of my bed and checks a few more machines behind my head, "but you're in good hands now and almost out of the woods. We're going to keep you here for a little longer on the antiviral meds and the doctor just approved a small dose of painkiller that I just put into your IV bag now that you're conscious. You'll be fully hydrated very soon. That was one nasty strain of influenza you picked up dear. Your Mom and brother can take you home sometime tomorrow. Now you just relax and push this little button right here if you need anything."

Brother?

"Mom?"

"I'm right here sweetie," she said taking my hand.

"Can you rise up my bed, it really hurts to move right now."

"Of course, sweetie. Here you go."

Just like that with a push of a button I'm slowly sitting up so my view moves from white tiled ceiling to white block wall in front of my bed, but there's a TV too so that's something new.

"Where's Dad? Did that nurse say my brother?"

"Daddy went home to get a little rest and grab a shower. I called him just now and told him you're awake. He's on his way back and he'll be here in about 30 minutes. I called Laurel's Mom too and told her so she could stop worrying. How are you feeling?"

"Sore. It hurts to move and I feel like my body weighs a ton. And I'm thirsty and I sound like a whiny little kid, but other than that, I'm tip top."

She puts a straw to my lips, "here, sip some ice water, slowly just a little at time ok?"

It may just be water, but I think it's the most delicious thing I have ever tasted.

"What about the brother? You guys didn't get a replacement kid while I was out did you?"

She gives me a tired little laugh and a smile, "no sweetie. That's your brother," she said pointing her chin somewhere to my right.

It takes nearly all my strength to turn my head. When I do, I see Josh passed out, sprawled in a chair next to the window.

"This could be the pain killer talking, but I'm really confused now."

Mom sighs and pats my arm. Total Mom move. Then she told me, "Josh is the one who figured out something was terribly wrong with you. He called for Daddy, who called for the ambulance. Daddy rode here with you in the ambulance. Josh came right behind in the car with me, and his Mom Carol. The hospital staff tried to make him leave when he first got here, but Carol told them Josh was your brother and Daddy and I went along with it so he could stay in the room with you. He hasn't left your side since."

"Wow. He's been here for 22 hours?" I ask her.

"Yes. He has. That's quite a friend you have there in that young man Katie."

"Yeah. I...I guess so," I say with more than a touch of wonder.

"I'm going to go out front and wait for Daddy. You call the nurse if you need anything ok?"

"Ok."

Mom leaves pulling the door closed behind her. It wasn't really loud, but in a quiet hospital room, it was just loud enough. I jumped a little bit when it banged. So did Josh. He practically fell out of his chair he was so startled awake. Another classic Mom move--doing something 'accidental' on purpose.

"Seriously, you know that chair is about three sizes too small for you right?"

"Kat. Oh my God. You're awake," he said jumping out of the chair rushing over to my bed.

"Yeah. Apparently that's a new thing for me lately I'm told. Bro," I smile.

Josh takes my hand in both of his, sits on the edge of my bed, and smiles back. Not one of his full strength smiles though.

"Geez you look like crap Bro," I tell him.

"It's not been one of my better days. Sis." he said with a small snort.

"You've been here the whole time?"

"I had to make sure you weren't faking just to skip out on school."

"Oh, that's why. Had nothing to do with being a friend huh?" I say.

He stretches out his leg to pull a chair over with his foot so he doesn't have to let go of my hand, "nope, all business. All the time," he told me, propping up his leg on the chair.

"I see."

"Actually, I'm here under orders from Laurel. They wouldn't let her in, not even during visiting hours because you were still...unstable...and she was going out of her mind. They had to threaten her with forcible removal by armed security or heavy sedation to get her to calm down."

"Oh man, I can't believe I missed that," I say.

"It was an impressive display I think. Even by her dramatic standards. I should text her, let her know you're awake," he said looking out the window at the dark sky, "I haven't talked to her since school got out and it's what after dinner now?"

"My Mom's already on it. But thanks."

Josh is quiet for a while. He is just sitting there staring at me with those big green eyes. He looks so tired. My eyelids start to get heavy again. Just before I think I can't keep them open any longer I hear him say softly, "You really scared me there Kat."

"Sorry. Won't happen again. Not a big fan of germs," I say all sleepy.

"That's good to hear. I don't think I could take it."

"Ok. I'm gonna take a little nap now ok?" I say.

The last thing I hear is Josh telling me, "I'll be right here when you wake up Kat."

"Do I dare ask what we're talking about today?" Josh said as he stands at the edge of the table before sitting down on my first day back at school after the hospital discharged me.

Jaxon pipes up, "don't sweat it man, just a simple math problem today."

Poor Josh, too bad he hasn't had the benefit of knowing Jaxon's wicked sense of humor for the past five years like Laurel and I have.

Josh visibly relaxes and sits closely next to me on the bench. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Almost.

I cast a sideways glance at him that he catches out of the corner of his eye when he picks up his milk. I get one of his quick smiles, but with slightly squinted eyes.

He's getting suspicious. We're all being too quiet. This is so not the quiet kids' table.

"Ok, spill it. What's going on?" he asks us putting down the carton.

"Whatever do you mean?" Jaxon replies innocently. Josh just gives him his 'cut the crap' look.

"Ok, here's the deal new guy. By the numbers, we've got a contest going to see who's the most experienced kisser of our little lunch bunch. The lovely Laurel over here" who tilts her head and bats her eyelashes obligingly, "is immediately disqualified for being incredibly OVER qualified."

"That's so cute how shocked he looks. Sweetie I lost count around 80 last year, so I'll just round mine up to an even 100 and we'll all agree that I'm the judge," Laurel boasts.

"Sounds fair," Josh said, "but, my number isn't nearly that high, so no way I'm going first."

Is he blushing? OMG he is blushing!

"Come on, you've got to give us the dirt on those Carolina hotties. All country, all the time, running around in cut off shorts and bikini tops right? Farm girls, yeah," Player said taking the seat on the other side of Laurel. "Hey hot stuff. Welcome back. Sweet sweater," he said giving me a nod and a wink. Once a Player always a Player but I can't help laughing out loud at how brazen he is. I missed him too.

"Which brings us to little miss Bookworm, it's always the quiet ones who have the most boners rattling in the closet," Jaxon taunts me.

I laugh louder (if that's even possible), "Hardly. And Laurel doesn't have 100, she has 99, Danny Wilson kissed me first in 6th grade by the basketball hoops THEN he kissed her under the monkey bars. So I get to count him in my tally."

"OH PLEASE! That doesn't count at all. We're talking REAL kissing, the whole heavy breathing, heavy petting, about-to-get-your-ass-into-some-serious-trouble-if-someone-doesn't-turn-the-hose-on-you, kind of kissing," wow. Player certainly paints quite a visual image there.

I blush furiously remembering Halloween, but clear my throat saying, "Well then, sorry, but I'm out in the first round. I haven't had anyone from school that fits that description yet," I smile.

"Oh right, like you've forgotten all about getting hot and heavy with your Halloween mystery man? The way I remember it a whole battalion of fire fighters would have been needed to douse that heat," Laurel lets slip.

LAUREL! The absolute shock and fear on my face is an exact twin of hers.

Getting all giggly, she tries to recover fast with, "oops, that was me too." But she's not fast enough to stop Player from catching on. The human shark smells chum in the waters.

"Woo hoo! Hold the phone, what is this about a mystery man hot stuff? You been holding out on us?" I give Laurel the most serious I-Am-Going-To-Kill-You-The-Very-First-Chance-I-Get look.

She mouths 'oops'. Some apology. Her BFF status needs immediate reviewing.

"Nothing," I tell him. Trying to put some, 'shut up and drop it right now' force in my voice.

"Actually, for once I'm in rare agreement with Eli. I think I'd like to hear more about this mystery man too," Josh said making me look at him as if he has just grown two heads that both started singing Broadway show tunes.

"There is Nothing. To. Tell." I say very succinctly trying to keep my voice even and steady.

"Now see that guys, when a girl said there's nothing to tell, that means there's a WHOLE BUNCH of stuff to tell."

I can't play defense so I go offense instead, "Seriously Player. It's not new. There was a party, a guy, and some music and a few minutes of making out. Nothing new to report. Not like your most recent escapade with the, how many was it, three members of the school Drill Team?"

"Four actually, but we're talking about you, not me. So who was he? Do we know this paragon of charm who finally caught our little Bookworm's eye and Heaven knows what else?" he said looking me up and down with a wicked grin, "why'd Laurel call him the mystery man?"

"Geez, enough with the 20 questions. I gotta go," and with that, chicken-livered Katie splits leaving behind a table full of friends loudly objecting to my lack of respect for detailed descriptions.

The week before Thanksgiving he just stands there. He sighs, waiting.

Laurel looks up putting him out of his misery, "college guys."

Josh shakes his head and decides (probably against his better judgment) to join us once again for another exciting half hour of lunchtime mayhem.

"Once, just once, why can't you guys talk about something boring and ordinary at lunch like, I don't know broccoli or something?" Josh begs us.

I feel it coming. If I look at Laurel I'm going to lose it. I stuff a roll in my mouth to keep the laugh locked inside.

"Just say it already. Go on. Let it out before you hurt yourself," he said to me and I practically spit the roll across the table laughing. I can't help it. When we get together something magical happens that we all just get so silly and giggly. It starts like a germ but spreads like a virus. My germ today is the look of pure anxiety on Josh's face before he sat down wondering what topic was going to make him uncomfortable today.

"What is it this time? My shirt?" he asks.

"No. Never anything so mundane. Today it was just your look of abject horror as you approached the table wondering what awaited you before you sat down." Laurel catches the bug and starts LOLing all over the place. "Even after you heard what the subject was, you still sat with us. It got me thinking it only took us what, ten weeks to break you into our warped sense of humor. I think you secretly crave it now," I tell him.

"You're probably right about that. Much to my eternal shame," he confides then starts laughing right along with us trying to grab a bite between laughs. I swear there must be something in the milk or water that makes us all loopy at lunch.

"So what about college guys today? Pros? Cons? Fraternity vs. Chess club?" he asks, "I may need time to prepare some research notes."

"Far more interesting, we're trying to determine if Katie's Halloween mystery guy was a college boy," Laurel purrs.

"You're trying to figure it out not me. I don't know any college guys and he said he was a friend who knew me," I say.

"When we were talking on the phone last night you said you thought he must have been a college guy because he REALLY knew what he was doing," she said with emphasis, loudly licking her lips and making a yummy sound, "especially when he was—"

"LAUREL!" CRAP!

Josh drops his water bottle splashing it a little bit.

"Geez! A little discretion? Do I need to remind you that BFF conversations are confidential! Plus you're going to scare Josh so bad he's never going to want to sit with us again," I scold her.

"No, no, that's fine, I'm fascinated at the...wealth of knowledge available to me during lunch now," he said clearing his throat.

"Hey where are Jaxon and Eli today?" Josh said changing the subject.

"Jaxon is having lunch is Ms. Warshak's room while he retakes that last Unit Assessment test that he totally bombed," I say.

"And Player is serving a one day in school suspension for trying to have sex in Principal Phillips' car," Laurel said so casually as if she's reporting on the weather today.

I almost choke on my pizza, "holy crap that was real? That was him? I heard about that in Chemistry but I thought it was just a rumor. I can't believe even he'd go that far. That boy is insane and should be forced to wear cast iron underwear."

"How in the world did Eli get into the principal's car?"

"Because, sweet innocent Josh, Player was trying to get into Principal Phillips' daughter's pants at the time. Apparently her Daddy gave her the keys because she's home on winter break from college."

"HOLY SHIT!" My hands fly to cover my mouth but seriously, HOLY SHIT!

My friend is insane, but seems to know his way around. Could my mystery man have been Player?

Please, please no.

Chapter 9

Josh and his parents come over to our house for Thanksgiving and his parents are holding hands at the table. They came in holding hands, and I don't think they've stopped all afternoon. It's sweet.

What's not so sweet is that all four of our parents, after barely one glass of wine each, started sharing memories of Josh and I when we were little that are equal parts embarrassing and cute, but I'm having a hard time not focusing on the embarrassing part.

After everyone's plates are filled and we've said grace, Josh's Mom asks mine about how her garden is growing and if she still works with Rose hybrids.  
Mom starts, "I do, not so much since I opened my own practice, but.." she doesn't finish her sentence before she blurts out, "OH! Carol do you remember that time when," Mom starts laughing and it takes her a moment to get herself together before she can start again, "when we found the kids in the backyard and Josh was peeing on the roses trying to water them because Katie told him she wasn't allowed to use the garden hose? What was he about three or four years old?"

Everyone at the table over 17 busts out laughing. I have my lips sealed so tightly together trying not to laugh as I see Josh put his elbows on the table and hide his face in his hands. I'm not laughing but my whole body is shaking from keeping the laugh locked inside until I can't hold it in anymore and I'm laughing along with everyone else.

"Oh, you're one to laugh young lady," Dad said and Josh's head snaps up looking right at me on full alert. Uh oh. I'm not psychic but I think I'm next for story time.

"You remember she was about five that summer when she got so mad at us, gosh...what was it?" Dad's trying to think and I have a brief moment of hope that I'm going to be spared by Dad's faulty memory when I look to the right as Mom snaps her fingers saying, "yes! That summer when Josh had the chicken pox."

Josh's Mom chimes in with, "that's right, now I remember," she said turning to me, "you were so mad because we had to keep you guys apart because Josh had the chicken pox and you hadn't and we were so worried about him being contagious. We had to keep you apart until he fully recovered. It took almost two whole weeks."

"Oh you were so furious with us," Mom said looking at me, "you decided you were going to run away but you left me a little note that said you didn't care about chickens and you were running away from home to go live with Josh."

Dad startles me when he practically yells out, "Now I remember! I pulled up that afternoon to find her running up the sidewalk bare assed naked wearing nothing but her little teddy bear backpack. She said she didn't want to get her clothes dirty so she stripped down and packed them up before she started to go next door."

KILL ME NOW! I think as I try to hide my face behind my napkin right before Josh howls with laughter and starts clapping his hands. Oh, payback is brutal.

"Shut. Up. That is not funny," I try to yell at him but I can't because I'm trying not to laugh too, "if there's no pictures there's no evidence."

Josh's Dad must sense my discomfort because he chimes in with, "maybe we should ease up, the kids don't seem to be enjoying reminiscing as much as we are."

"Dessert?" Josh suddenly said looking at me.

"Outside?" I suggest.

"AGREED!" We say almost at the same time grabbing our plates and bolting for the back door.

It's damp from the light rain that morning but not too bad. The fort walls are insulated now but I don't remember cold stopping us when we were little. We practically lived in the fort every day regardless of what the weather was like outside. When you're little I don't think you even know what weather is. You just know inside or outside.

Once we're comfortably settled on the beanbag balancing our plates he told me how cherry pie is his favorite and he's so glad my Mom made it.

"This is delicious."

"Thanks. Actually I made it," I tell him with more than a touch of pride in my voice.

"Seriously? You bake?" he asks, "now would that be bare assed naked baking?"

"DON'T YOU DARE START!" I laugh, "No, I don't. I took a cooking class elective last year, fruit pies were my specialty."

"That's cool," he said still smiling.

"If I'm being honest, they are the only thing I didn't burn," I tell him.

He gives me an appreciative smile saying, "Well that's one thing more than my record. I can't boil water. Maybe you could teach me sometime?"

Why am I blushing? I'm embarrassed by pie? Or the crazy embarrassing stories? Really Katie?

Thankfully he changes the subject, "how are you feeling? Still sore muscles everywhere?"

"Not so much now. That first week back was a bear though. I can't remember ever feeling that sick. How about you?"

"Never by natural causes. Self inflicted once though. That was bad enough," he said with a sadness I've never heard in his voice before.

He takes a few more bites and when I ask him what he means he surprises me by talking about how he got drunk on three beers about six months after they moved to NC when he was ten. His grandpa found him in the garage.

"I was so sick to my stomach; I remember it felt like I was going to die. Then suddenly, my Dad was there. I remember my grandpa yelling at him, something about being a man, hurting his kid. It's not really all that clear. The next thing I remember is I'm back in my bed upstairs at grandpa's house and my Dad's kneeling on the floor holding my hand and....he's crying. I'd never seen my Dad cry before. I think I was in shock, and probably more than a little drunk still. I hadn't seen him in six months. He just kept saying 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' over and over and over. I didn't know what was going on."

A tear slips down Josh's cheek and I think it suddenly dawns on him where he's at and that I'm there next to him. He sort of sniffs putting his plate down and wiping his eyes with his jacket sleeve before he pulls his knees up to rest his arms on top and looks out the window.

Should I hug him? I don't know what to do. I have never seen anyone cry except Laurel and that was only once when we were watching Ghost and Demi Moore was crying too and then that second week when Josh and I were up here and let down all the walls we built up for the last seven years, but I was crying with him then.

I don't know what he wants from me. I don't know what a friend is supposed to do in this situation really, do guys want to be comforted, or should I ignore it? Instead I decide not to move but sit there and softly tell him, "a couple of my friends' parents got divorced last year and they always talked about wishing their parents got back together. But they never did. Now they only see them on weekends, and there's lots of fighting sometimes, and they have to go back and forth living between two different houses. At least your Dad came back. That's a good thing right?"

"He came back because he was afraid of my grandpa," he said. I can't tell what's worse, the anger in his voice, or the misery.

"It sounds to me like he came back because he was afraid for you. For hurting you. And your Mom maybe? I was watching them at dinner. She seems happy. She was laughing and smiling a lot. They were holding hands through the whole meal. They both seem happy now."

"I know. They're constantly holding hands and hugging in public, they kiss all over the house. It's so weird," he said.

"I know right? My parents are all over each other at home. It's so gross and embarrassing."

He looks back over at me and we both laugh over our shared parental humiliation.

It's a tender moment and if this was a movie, he'd probably lean in and kiss me, but my palms aren't sweaty and my breathing's totally normal. What's different? He's not really a guy guy. It's just Josh--my former best friend, back in our fort. Just like old times. It feels normal. Sort of.

Instead of leaning in, he stretches out his long runner's legs and leans back into the beanbag on one elbow before he said all serious, "Kat, there's something I need to tell you."

He won't look me in the eye. He keeps looking down distractedly picking at a loose thread of the beanbag seam. His face is so serious. I'm holding my breath. His forehead is all wrinkled. Josh, what the heck are you thinking so hard about?

It's never good news if they can't look you in the eye or if they're quiet for too long. If he asks me to be his wingman to help him snag a cheerleader, so help me God this renewed friendship is over right now and I will push him out of the fort headfirst.

He must have decided because he finally looks up. We're lying there on the beanbag for a few more minutes just looking at each other when he asks, "would you read to me for a while Kat?"

I'm a little taken aback. That's what he was struggling with for so long? Of course I immediately agree and try to lighten his mood. That's what friends do for friends right?

"Um, sure. We have a broad selection to choose from here at the fort library. I can regal you with a chapter from Ray Bradbury's Martian Chronicles or Rowling's Harry Potter. Pick your poison."

"You choose," he said leaning back closing his eyes, "I just want to hear the sound of your voice for a little while."

I swallow hard and say, "ok, the wizarding world it is," and for the next forty-give minutes I bring him up to speed on how Harry's doing in the tri-wizard tournament until we hear, "Josh your Mom and Dad are getting ready to head out. They can use some help with the leftovers we've piled on them."

I thought he'd fallen asleep on me at some point, but when I look down at him, I find him staring up at me. Were his eyes always that deep green? They make me think of new spring grass and leaves. How long was he watching me read?

I can't help clearing my throat, I have been reading out loud non-stop for a long time, and now my throat feels dry, but in the tiny fort it sounds louder than I meant it to, "your ride is leaving. If I know my Mom, you have an entire meal plus a whole pie waiting for you in the kitchen."

He gives me a tiny lopsided grin as he hefts himself off the beanbag and starts to back out feet first to climb down the ladder. Those rare half smiles of his are really starting to grow on me. I put Harry back on the shelf and follow 'walking' across the fort on my knees. There are some advantages to not being overly tall. I don't even have to duck my head like he does.

He's nearly on the ground but his upper body is still blocking the doorway. I'm waiting my turn for the ladder when he lifts his head and gives me the most intense look that stops me in my tracks. He suddenly pulls forward on the ladder poking his head back in the fort and plants a kiss on my cheek.

"Thanks Kat. For everything." Then he hops off the ladder dropping the last foot to the ground and sprints back into the house without looking back.

My stomach does a little flip while I'm still kneeling there in the fort doorway. I try to ignore it and climb down. Emphasis on try.

Chapter 10

The first week of December has a small bite to it and my room is chilly. I can't sleep so I bundle up and head to school while it's still dark to sneak some time alone in the drama department.

I have been drawing a small mural on the wall the past couple of months.

Started out just as a little doodle in the corner when I was bored, but now my brain is on fire turning it into this massive expressionistic piece comprising theater imagery from ancient Greek to modern Broadway. It's like the mural has taken on a life of its own.

I'm trying to keep it secret. I'm torn. I have been overhearing students talk about it wondering who did it and they're saying a lot of really nice things, but I just don't know if I want people to know I'm the artist. I also don't want to find out what happens to students who deface nearly an entire wall of a classroom.

I'm adding a sort of Art Deco flair to one corner this morning when I freeze with my Sharpie in mid air as the drama room door opens from the parking lot.

"Kat?"

Holy shit. Josh?

"What are you doing here?"

I cap my marker slowly turning to see him. He's been running, his sweatpants and sweatshirt are soaked and he's breathing heavy. Unfortunately, so am I. I never dreamed I'd get busted drawing on the school walls at 6.08am.

"Hey Josh, what are you doing here?" I ask him trying to be casual and failing.

"Holy crap," he said coming over to stand next to me and look closely at the mural, "did you do all this? Are you the secret artist everyone's been talking about?"

I give my bottom lip a good chewing before I answer, "I come in early sometimes to work on it before school if I can't sleep. I sketch fast and it's dry before anyone shows up. Please don't tell anyone it's me ok?" I beg.

"Why not? This is gorgeous. Did you do all this by yourself?" he asks. The pride and awe I hear in his voice make my stomach all fluttery and warm.

"Yeah, it was just a little doodle with a pencil one day but it's sort of...grown," I explain.

"Grown? Kat it's a gorgeous 3 foot by 4-foot mural that everyone is talking about. It's amazing. How long have you been able to draw like this, and why don't you want anyone to know?" he asks confused.

"It's just...drawing is really private for me, and...I'm not sure I want anyone else to know. Will you keep it a secret just between us?" I plead putting my hand on his arm and giving it a little squeeze.

His face softens instantly, and he gives me a smile, "of course Kat. Your secret is safe with me."

Famous last words.

Every year right about this time, about a week before the winter break, everyone who wants a chance to audition in January for the spring play slathers on their favorite color lipstick and kisses the back wall of the drama department for good luck.

After we all take our turns leaving our lip prints, we wipe off our mouths, and come back out into the hallway where all the sophomores and juniors have put their names in a bag and last year's Pucker Up winner draws a name. That person has to be the judge and pick out the best pucker. The Pucker Up contest winner gets the honor of having not only the best pucker, he/she also gets to audition first for the spring play when we come back after winter break.

This is my first year participating in the contest. I gently apply my favorite maroon shade of lip-gloss, wait my turn then go in, close my eyes, and add my kiss to the wall with about 40 other students.

When we're all back out in the hall and cleaned up, Player picks a name from the hat (he's won two years in a row, it's only enhanced his Player reputation). He reaches into the bag drawing out a name he reads from the slip of paper and his face breaks out into a huge grin, "Katie O'Connell come on down!"

OMG! I'm the judge!

There's a little applause and I'm suddenly so freaking nervous. I never dreamed my name would be drawn. I try to study all the lip prints that spread out on the wall in so many colors from palest peach to ruby red. I know I can't pick my own of course but I really have no idea what I'm looking for.

Some are smeared, some are huge and sloppy, and a few are small and delicate. I keep looking at each one back and forth all over the wall, but then I see a print off to the left that reminds me of the ones you see on stickers or the old Rolling Stones concert posters. It has full lips with just a couple lines and a little dip in the middle. It's perfect and I choose it.

There's a huge WOO HOO! behind me when Player runs up grabbing me around the middle twirling me around then sets me back down on my feet and throws his hands up in the air and yells, "HA! Three years in a row. Suck it wenches!" pointing at all the rest of us.

We're all laughing and carrying on when an angry nasally voice from the back of the group yells, "She cheated!"

I feel flushed and everyone turns to stare at me.

Stuck up senior Tiffani Sobhiani starts moving people out of the way to come up to us at the wall. She's the one who has accused me of cheating.

I should have known.

Jaxon sticks up for me and, surprisingly, so does the redheaded guy who has been giving me dirty looks lately.

"There's no way she could have cheated. She was outside the room with everyone else and we all wiped off our lipstick before she even came in," Jaxon said

"How could she possibly cheat?" Redheaded guy asks her.

"I don't know. But there's no way you could win," she said staring accusingly at Player, "Not three years in a row!" she said turning on her perfect little heal and starts to walk away.

"Aww, don't go away jealous. Just go away," he said still holding me around the waist. Not the best choice of words to say to someone who is used to always having the last nasty word.

"Oh why don't you just put on lipstick, start dressing like a girl, be a raging homo, and come out of the closet already?" Holy shit! She did NOT just say that! And to Player of all people!

Everyone is dead silent. Jaxon's face is fire engine red and looks as shocked as I feel.

"I'll show you who's in the closet you stuck up little bitch; you and me in the prop room right now let's go! Two minutes alone with me and I'll have you singing a different tune while you're begging me to give you what we both know you need." I have never seen him so enraged or vicious. I never would have believed our easygoing, laid back Player was capable of it. He's practically spitting and looks like he's contemplating dragging her backstage by her hair any second.

She looks him up and down, sniffs and said, "Oh Please. Seriously, who do you think you're fooling." And trails off down the hall with her heels going clickety clack, clickety clack.

He lets go of me to start off after her and I jump in front of him grabbing his face pulling him down to look me in the eye.

"Eli! Eli, let it go. She's not worth it honey. She's trash, nothing more and everyone knows it. She doesn't have any friends who love her like you do and that will never change," I tell him begging him to listen to me. His face relaxes right before he grabs me up in a huge bear hug.

Jaxon told everyone, "No buzz kill like a sore loser. Now, who wants to give the Pucker Up winner a congratulatory kiss to test those contest-winning lips?" and I'm quickly pushed to the side laughing as Player's lost in a swarm of giggling squealing girls that descend on him fast.

"I've got a secret, I've got a secret," Laurel starts to sing.

"Thought we made a deal back in 7th grade? No secrets between BFFs. Isn't that rule 3?"

"Rule 5. Rule 3 is no sharing boyfriends. Remember Danny Wilson?"

"Oh yeah, Danny," we both take a minute to mentally reminisce on Danny's finer qualities before Lauren said, "I think that boy likes you," she said nodding to Josh in the lunch line.

"Who? Josh? Of course he likes me. We're old friends you goof."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"Pish. Don't even go there. He's just a friend," I tell her rolling my eyes.

"A very cute friend who is often seen practically attached to you at the hip."

"He's new. He's only been here a few months and doesn't really know anyone else yet. What would you do if you were me? Tell him to get lost?" I ask her.

"Oh I know exactly what I'd do if I were you...."

"You're unbelievable," I shake my head thinking she is, truly.

"I wonder what he's always hiding under those baggy sweatshirts and hoodies?"

I know she doesn't mean anything by it. Just Laurel being Laurel, but this conversation is starting to make me uncomfortable and I don't want to think too much about why. "Finish up you overly hormonal perv, I need to stop by my locker for a couple Advil and get to class a few minutes early to ask about an assignment."

We spend the rest of lunch talking about our plans for winter break.

I wonder if Josh is traveling or staying home for break.

It's a Friday after school Drama club meeting and Mrs. G is going over what the play is this year, the audition schedule when we come back after break, and getting volunteers to sign up for stage crew, technical crew, and set building. She's asking for a set design volunteer to work on five Victorian style still life portraits over winter break for the play and no one speaks up, "Are you telling me none of you can draw decently and possess a vivid imagination?" she asks.

We're all just sitting there looking around at each other when there's a murmur. Someone has raised their hand. I look to my left to see where everyone else's eyes are looking and see Josh with his arm straight up in the air.

My stomach drops along with my smile. He wouldn't. He promised.

Mrs. G is nice but she's one of those annoying kinds of teachers that always call students formally only by their last name. Freshman year was hilarious when there were supposedly four different kids in her class all with the last name Smith. I hear her ask him, "Yes Mr. Dawson? Are you volunteering?"

"No, I can't draw a straight line to save my life, but Katie can," he said not meeting my eyes, "she drew the mural and she's brilliant."

I'm beyond humiliated and mortified. How could he do this to me? He promised me! Then all the low chattering comes to a silent standstill as Mrs. G. walks over to me, leans down and said, "Miss O'Connell, is this true? Are you the one who's been defacing my classroom walls the past two months?"

I can't swallow. I can't speak. Then I feel Jaxon sitting behind me poke me in the back, hard, "YES. I mean, yes ma'am. I...I'm the one that's been drawing the mural," I manage to get out.

"Hmmmm," she said standing back up straight, "well I must say I'm quite astonished. Quite astonished indeed. Who would have ever thought that I would have such a talented, creative, expressive spirit in my class this year. Well done Miss O'Connell. Well done. Keep up the good work. Pick up a description of the portraits from the folder on the top of my desk before you leave. We need five of them," and she turns back to the rest of the class. "Now then, I need three students on the sound board and two who aren't afraid of heights to work the lights up on the catwalk."

I'm in total shock as everyone starts to pat me on the back and shoulders telling me how amazing the mural is and asking me all kinds of questions about how I thought of it and am I going to fill it in with color.

Josh comes over and gives me a little nudge and I shoot him a seething look.

I can't believe he did that to me!

That is how I 'volunteered' to make the family portraits part of the scenery for the senior spring play. I end up deciding to paint them all as frogs dressed in Victorian clothing. I'm so mad at him for betraying my secret. Even though he rather ended up doing me a favor, still, it was not his secret to tell.

Practically the minute the meeting ends I wheel on him, "I should buy you a dictionary for Christmas so you can look up the word because you obviously do not understand what the word SECRET means. It doesn't mean blabbing to a room full of people!"

"I was just trying to help," he said.

"WHY? Who asked you to help me? I don't need help."

"BECAUSE!" he snaps back at me, "because you're wonderful and brilliant and the most talented person I have ever met and I want everyone to know it too!" Then he turns and storms down the hallway. I can only stand there with my mouth hanging open in shock staring at his back until he pushes through the doors and disappears outside.

Talk about your bombshell announcement.

Talk about your dramatic exit.

The next week flies by with mid-term exams and talk about vacation plans, who's going skiing (Laurel jetting tomorrow with her family to Aspen then New York), who's heading to the beach for warmer temps (Jaxon already left today and Player leaves tomorrow), and who's hanging at home. Josh and I are in the last group.

He and I really haven't talked about Thanksgiving or him spilling the beans about my drawing, but I can't seem to stay mad at him. I just decide to forget about being mad and we seem to have been closer this week too. We've been meeting at my locker, walking together to classes, waiting together for the bus. I'm not really sure what's going on and I decide I need to consult an expert.

"Before the guys get here, can we talk?" I ask Laurel.

Something's been on my mind a lot the last couple of weeks and I need my BFF's unique qualifications to help me sort it out before she leaves. There's no cell service in the mountains where she's going and neither of us is happy about it. Unfortunately, there is no time, because Josh and Player show up at the same time each grabbing a seat next to us.

"Boys, I love you, truly, but I need a little boy-free talk time with my best girlfriend here before winter break. How about chowing down at another table today ok?" Laurel asks them.

"It's our table too. Why don't you move it if you want some privacy?" Player counters.

"Because we were here first, and we're the girls, so you're the ones who have to move or else," she told him directly.

"Or else what? You're barely an inch taller than the half pint over there, what exactly do you think you can do to make me move?" his nearly six-foot-tall-self challenges.

I give Josh a little nudge whispering, "oh man, you're about to see Laurel whip out another one of her superpowers."

"She has more than two?"

"Oh yeah. Way more. Just watch."

Laurel makes a show of deliberately putting her fork down slowly and turns to face him, "if you don't find another table pronto, I'm going to say one word. Just one word Eli Rosen, that zeros in on all of your most significant insecurities that will have you fleeing from the table so fast anyone watching will think you're being chased by the devil himself," she told him menacingly.

Player leans back trying for unaffected and totally cool, "try me."

"Really?" she takes a small pause, "tampon."

"See ya," Player said bolting from the table without a backward glance.

"Wow. That was impressive," Josh told her admiringly.

Laurel just stares at him, "what exactly are you waiting for?" she asks him.

Uh oh.

"I don't have any significant insecurities," he said with a halfhearted attempt at bravado. So the wrong thing to say.

"Oh, you think so newbie?" she gives another pause for dramatic effect, she is Laurel after all, "condom."

"Later Kat," and Josh is up and gone before I can blink.

"You know you're going to have to teach me that sometime."

"Some things can't be taught," she said with a slightly arrogant grin.

After a few bites of lunch, a few curious, and slightly nasty, looks our way from the guys now on the other side of the room, (including one tongue stuck out at us thank you Player), Laurel looks at me and said, "so, what's on your mind sweetie?"

"I don't mean to sound conceited or anything but, why do you think so many guys are suddenly into me this year?" I ask her with all sincerity. I really want to know.

My boy-crazy, gorgeous BFF who always has guys around her told me, "simple. You got their attention, you've picked up a boatload of self-confidence, from where I'd like to know since I can't take all the credit with just my altering your wardrobe, and now they're noticing you. Guys are inherently foolish and naturally competitive. They either want what they can't have or they want what they think other guys have. Welcome to the big leagues baby. I have been waiting for you to get here," she said with a dazzling smile.

"I just don't understand it and it's just making my head spin. Seniors, football players, Josh, things were even weird there for a while with Jaxon and Player," I tell her.

"Player? What do you mean weird? When?" she asks me. Laurel suddenly looks serious, and she is only serious about fashion week clearance sales.

"Nothing really, it was just at the beginning of the year, there was this thing in the hallway outside of English class one afternoon when I thought he might be the guy from the Halloween party that's all."

"What thing? Did something happen between you two? Was it him?" If I didn't know her better, I'd say Laurel was anxiously holding her breath. Especially how her voice squeaked on her last word.

"Why are you so somber all of a sudden? Would you care if it was Player who kissed me at Halloween?"

"What, no. No. It would just be weird wouldn't it? Two of our group hooking up or something you know. Because we've all been friends for so long and stuff," she seems flustered. Very unlike, Miss Cool-As-A-Cucumber-About-Guys Laurel. When she starts chewing on her thumbnail I know something's up. Laurel never messes up a perfect manicure without good reason.

"You're hiding something from me," I look at her accusingly, suddenly forgetting that I'm the one with the problem at our table.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes. Yes, you are, and now you're lying. You only chew on your thumbnail when you're trying to come up with a believable lie. I have seen you do it dozens of times over the years with your parents, teachers, and guys, and now you're doing it with me. What's going on?"

Her shoulders sag and she lets out a huge sigh, "he made me promise I wouldn't say anything."

"Who?"

Her gaze wanders over to where the guys are sitting.

"Josh?" I say in shock.

"NO! Anyone with two working eyes can see he's totally off the market...hey, wait a minute you included Josh when you were rattling off the list of guys who you thought were into you. Do you and Josh have something going on?"

"No. No, I don't think so, but it's just...he's different when we're not at school. Sometimes I think he might be interested in me as more than a friend."

"He's not the only one," she mumbles.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I'm just saying, he acts like he's really into you that's all. I'm agreeing with you."

Now why isn't that comforting.

Chapter 11

I am rudely awakened on my very first day of winter break a week before Christmas by a deranged lunatic bouncing up and down on my bed, "Kat it snowed last night! Kat it's a snow day! Kat get up! GET UP!" he yells.

"Josh, what time is it?"

"9.30am. Get up and come out and play in the snow with me."

Ugh. "What don't you understand about sleeping in on your vacation?"

"But it snowed last night. I haven't seen snow in seven years Kat. Come on, get up, and come play with me."

He is NOT guilt tripping me in my own room on my first day of vacation. I pry open one eye to find him kneeling on the floor at the very edge of my bed with his nose about an inch from mine. Ugh.

"How much snow is there?"

"Ew morning breath. Um, there's a couple inches, you can still see the tips of the grass in some places," he told me.

"Geez Josh, that's not snow. That's barely a dusting! Go back to bed already."

I pull the covers over my head.

I hear knuckles cracking, "ok Kat, I didn't want to have to do this, but you should probably know that I did make a snowball with my bare hands on my way over to your house just now. Hmmm, I wonder if Kat sleeps with her socks on? Let's find out shall we?" Then he proceeds to dive his hands under the covers at the bottom of my bed seeking out my defenseless, un-socked feet.

"HOLY CRAP JOSH! THAT'S FREEZING!!! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!" I scream kicking at him.

He bolts for the door laughing his ass off and pauses for a second turning back to me, "so I'll see you outside in a few minutes right, or do I need to check to see if you wear pajama bottoms too?" He ducks and my pillow sails past his head landing harmlessly on the hallway floor.

A few minutes later I'm outside making the most pathetically sad, itty-bitty snowmen with him for an hour before I come in to thaw out. Josh on the other hand can't get enough of the snow. He offers to shovel the driveway and sidewalk.

Like Dad's going to turn down free labor?

I hear Josh come in the front door a little later after shoveling the driveway and front walkway. He comes back into the kitchen to find my parents dancing to an iPod shuffle on the counter while making lunch. I'm sitting at the counter sketching big blossoms on some printer paper with a few colored pencils spread out on the counter in front of me.

"Wow, those are amazing Kat. What are they?" he asks me.

"Hibiscus blossoms. They're tropical and they're my favorite flower."

"They look like I should lean in and smell them they look so real," he said with admiration.

His compliment makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. It's nice to share my drawing with him now. I kind of wish I'd done it sooner, "thanks."

"Are your parents dancing to Taylor Swift?" he asks taking off his gloves and hanging up his coat.

"Please don't say it out loud. It's embarrassing enough."

Then the music shifts to a heavy island drum beat. Caribbean music. That's better, but not much. They're still all over each other dancing back and forth across the floor on the other side of the island counter laughing and giggling.

"How come you're not dancing?" Josh asks coming back to the counter to stand next to me.

"Simple. I don't dance."

"Yes you do. You said you only dance in your kitchen."

I turn my head to catch a weird look on his face, "what you have a photographic memory now? I meant when I'm alone in my kitchen."

He smirks and takes my hand in his, "come on it's easy. I'll show you."

My reluctance is more than obvious as I slide off the counter stool. I put my arms around his neck, but when he puts his hands on my waist I involuntary suck in my breath that makes him snap his head up searching my eyes for a solid couple of seconds before he gives me a reassuring half smile.

"Don't worry I have had a few lessons."

He proceeds to tell me to look down and watch his feet.

"See if I step forward with my right, you take a step back with your left.

I copy his simple movements without tripping. I count this as a major success.

"Then if I take a step back, you step forward. Good. Good that's it. Back and forth. You're doing great."

I'm smiling in spite of my inherent fear of stumbling and looking like an ass. The drumbeat of the music makes a steady rhythm that's easy to follow as the next island song comes on.

"You've got your footwork down, now you just need to put your hips into it a little bit," he said applying a little pressure with both his hands rocking my hips back and forth in time to the music. I can feel the color start to creep up my neck, and I bite my lip as Josh takes a step closer to me.

The warmth in his voice could melt a foot of snow in a split second, "you're doing great Kat. You're a natural."

"Keep those hands where we can see them Mister Dance Instructor."

"DAD! For crying out loud! Seriously?" Beet red face over here.

"You know it, Sir!" Josh said as we all burst out laughing.

Dad comes around the counter tapping Josh on the shoulder, "look out, cutting in son," he grabs me from Josh and starts to dance me around the room. I laugh even harder when Dad starts singing along. I look over to see Josh twirling Mom by the sink.

"Hey I didn't get to twirl!"

"That's lesson two!" he yells back over the music.

I get in a few minutes of what I'd call not tripping more than I would call it dancing with my Dad.

"Switch partners! I'm going to need my best gal pal for this next one coming up," Dad hollers, when the slow opening notes to a new song starts to come on. He races over to Mom who is now giggling uncontrollably with a very mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Not a problem," Josh said as he comes back to me sporting a grin and a sparkle in his eye that nearly matches Mom's.

My breath catches in my throat as he starts to take me in his arms, but my face falls as the song beat kicks up with a set of horns and I recognize what's coming next.

"What's wrong Kat?"

"We have to go," I tell him.

"Why? I'm having a blast. Aren't you?" he asks, his face full of concern.

"Yes. No. I mean, you don't understand what's coming. We have to leave. Like now," I insist.

We barely grab our coats and make it out the back door before my Dad yells, "muy caliente mamacita!" and starts dirty dancing all over the kitchen to the heavy salsa rhythms, grabbing my Mom in places a Mom should not be grabbed in front of her child. CERTAINLY not in front of her child's friend!

"Whew that was close," I say as we climb up the ladder to the sanctity of our fort.

"I had no idea your Mom could kick her leg that high over your Dad's shoulder. Quite impressive."

"Don't you dare start. It's bad enough when they act like that," I try to warn him, but the amusement in his voice is contagious.

"Come on. What's so embarrassing about your Dad calling your Mom a 'very hot babe' and then groping her in front of your friends? What else are parents for?" he manages to say between spurts of laughter.

"I'm glad you think it's funny," I say curling up onto my half of the oversized beanbag, "they act like this all the time. It's just so ridiculous sometimes. I guess it comes from having parents who aren't even 40 years old yet. I hope they grow up and start acting their age soon."

"Be careful what you wish for," he told me lowering the flap over the doorway to block out the wind, crawling over to the beanbag, "my parents are only about five years older than yours. Maybe they would have had an easier time in their marriage if they acted a little more like yours from time-to-time."

As Josh settles in stretching out on his side of the beanbag, we both sink down together meeting in the middle settling in close next to each other.

I try to suppress a shiver, "I should have grabbed my hat and gloves as we ran out. Even with all the insulation, it's still a little chilly in here today."

Josh lifts up his arms opening his winter coat saying, "come here, put your hands inside my coat, it's down filling, it'll keep you warm."

I snuggle in to steal some of his body warmth, resting my head on his chest and close my eyes. For once I'm not letting my brain over think. I'm cold and I'm just doing it.

"Holy cow your hands really are cold!"

"Sorry, but you did offer."

We lay there like that for a little while snuggling together against the December chill. It's the most relaxed and content I can ever remember being.

"You don't talk about your parents that often do you?" I ask him tentatively.

"Not much to talk about," his voice rumbles from deep in his chest.

I can feel his heart beating under my ear.

"Why did you leave all those years ago Josh?" my voice is barely a whisper now.

He doesn't answer right away, but after a few minutes he said, "Dad left us. Mom moved us in with her parents in North Carolina. That's about all I remember," his voice goes softer at the end.

"Was anything about the move good?" I ask him softly.

He's quiet for another minute before saying, "my grandpa. He didn't try to talk to me or get me to talk. He was a little tough on the outside. He used to box when he was in the navy. One day he found me in the backyard just after we got there. I'd been crying and he told me to get up and try to keep up with him, and then he just started running. I didn't know what to do so I started running down the street after him. We started running every day after school. Then one afternoon about a month later, he took me in the garage and showed me how to punch a heavy bag. He said every time I felt mad, or sad, or helpless to punch right here where he made a big X with a marker."

I feel Josh take a deep breath in that expands his chest raising my head up then lowering it slowly as he exhales, "he's the one who taught me to box and run. I didn't really take to the boxing, but I love running."

He's quiet again so I figure he's done talking. It was the most he's ever shared about when he left.

I hug him a little tighter. He squeezes me back resting his chin on the top of my head.

A few more heartbeats pass before he said, "Kat, there's something I really need to talk to you about."

"Hmm?"

"I need to tell you....it's...it's snowing out Kat. Look."

I open my eyes without lifting my head off Josh's chest. Looking through the fort window out over the yard I see big fluffy chunks of snow starting to fall fast and thick. This will give him the kind of snow he's been wanting.

I burrow in a little closer to him, and he lets me closing his arms pulling me in even tighter so I'm almost lying on top of his whole body along one side.

We lay still like that watching the snowfall for a while.

His voice is softer than the snow gently falling on the other side of the window, "this is the happiest I have ever been in my entire life Kat. Here right now, with you."

"Me too."

"These last few months..." he starts.

"I know. Me too."

"Josh? Katie? Come on back in, if you stay up there much longer, we'll have to call out the snow rescue team to get you down. We're getting ready to make hot cocoa!"

Geez, Mom. Someone really needs to have a word with her about her timing.

"I guess we should head back in. You're probably freezing by now," Josh said his voice back to normal.

"Not so much."

"Are you guys coming?" she calls to us and I finally pull myself away from him to sit up so I can answer her.

His eyes seem darker green as he looks up at me. Maybe we should head back in. And fast.

I open the window to shout out, "WE'RE NOT COMING IN UNTIL YOU SWEAR THE SALSA PORTION OF THE DAY IS DONE!"

"We're done! Promise. Now get in here before you turn into popsicles! I'm making the cocoa with extra marshmallows and whipped cream just the way Josh liked it when he was little."

"SWEAR! SWEAR ON YOUR FIRST BORN OR WE'RE NOT SETTING FOOT BACK IN THAT KITCHEN YOU DANCING MANIACS!" I vow. A big part of me wants to stay here, just the two of us, and curl back up on the beanbag even if it drops to twenty below zero outside.

"I SWEAR!"

"Well, looks like the coast is clear for us to head back in for a sugar rush," I tell him.

Josh pauses for a minute still watching me closely before he smiles, "sounds good."

After we climb down, it registers in the back of my mind that we just walked back across the yard into the house holding hands.

I try not to think about what that means.

We open the back door welcomed by the smells of homemade chicken noodle soup and hot chocolate.

During lunch Dad announces that snow days are made for baking and everyone has to pick something to make. I choose cherry empanadas.

"It's a fancy name for cherry turnovers," I tell Josh.

He looks at me still confused.

"Mini cherry pies."

"Oh! I'm totally on board. Can I be on your team?" he said with a smile.

The rest of the afternoon is spent laughing, mixing, baking, being playful, and overall trashing my kitchen.

"Are you sneaking cookie dough? Hello? Raw eggs. You'll get sick," I tell Josh.

"Live life on the edge baby," he told me with a grin, licking another scoop off the spoon giving me butterflies in my stomach.

We're all laughing now. Even Dad can't hold onto the grumpy Dad look he's had around Josh lately, so I think he's forgiven him, but he keeps a close eye on us like he's not going to forget any time soon either.

Mom's not a baker, but luckily my Dad is. I take this opportunity try to soften him up a little.

"Dad made the pumpkin and pecan pies we had at Thanksgiving," I tell Josh

"Really? They were delicious, I actually wolfed down the rest of the pecan pie that night before bed," he said with surprise and admiration.

"The kitchen may traditionally be women's territory, but it takes a real man to crack an egg properly," Dad informs us with a straight face and a touch of pride in his voice.

Mom kisses him on the cheek as she passes him to take a mixing bowl to the sink, and he leaves a flour handprint when he lightly smacks her on the ass as she walks by. I am beyond embarrassed.

"Parental Units! We have a guest. Would you please act your age for once?"

"Josh isn't a guest. He's...he's just Josh," Mom said laughing aloud.

Another outbreak of laughter all around before a flour-fight of epic proportions ensues leaving the entire kitchen, and everyone in it, coated with a thin dusting of white.

We tell them we'll clean up the kitchen so Mom and Dad can leave to deliver cookies to some of the neighbors and visit with their friends for a while.

"We'll be back in a couple of hours and don't try to do everything, we'll finish what you don't get," Mom said closing the front door behind her.

"Last one to touch the sink has to mop the floor!" I yell and bolt around the corner of the island counter with a good two-second head start on track boy, but almost miss the sink sliding in the flour on the tile.

He quickly races around the other side of the island getting to the sink just a millisecond after I do.

"Oh, no! Not fast enough varsity. Better luck next time!" I laugh hopping up on the counter swinging my legs over the edge to give him an unobstructed path to sweep. And, yes, maybe to rub it in a little bit too.

As he takes two slow deliberate steps over to stand in front of me at the counter, I briefly consider that my throaty little suppressed victory giggle might have been just a bit too much. But I don't have more than a second to consider it before he grabs my legs by the knees pulling me forward to the edge where he's at, so now he's standing there in front of me with my legs around him and he presses both of his palms on the counter on either side of me.

I stopped laughing the second he grabbed my legs. When I see the look that flashes in his eyes my breathing quickens.

His voice is low and sends little shivers up my spine, "you're pretty cocky for someone covered nearly head-to-toe in flour and sugar you know."

"Well I did just outrun a member of the varsity track team, so I think I've earned it," I tease cocking one eyebrow and adding a smirk like he does.

His little head tilt told me he's fully in the game even before his words do.

"Do you now? What do I get for coming in second place?" he asks watching me so intensely now, I just know he's waiting for me to blink. Our competitive streaks are both a mile wide, and worse, we both know it.

"What do you want?"

This game of cat and mouse is getting dangerous, but I like it. I want to see how far we'll go before one of us bails.

"How about a taste as a consolation prize?" Josh said and before I can figure out what he means by that, he dips his head down and takes a quick little lick up the side of my neck. A jolt of electricity shoots through me making me give a little cry aloud as I grab his arms. I close my eyes sliding my hands up around his neck to run my fingers through the back of his hair. He pulls me closer taking his sweet time to suck and nip on my neck in a tender area just above my collar bone for a few minutes before taking a slower lick up all the way up to my ear working his way over to my mouth.

My head is spinning and my body is trembling.

"Josh," I sigh. I think I have forgotten how to breathe when his lips finally reach the very edge of my mouth. I can hear him breathing hard but when he moves again it is not toward my lips, it's to turn his head away and swear under his breath.

I am full on shaking by now and I can't think straight but instead of getting closer, Josh takes a few steps back out of my arms to lean against the opposite counter gripping tightly to the edge. When he finally lifts his head to look at me, the burning intensity of his gaze makes my heartbeat twice as fast. I don't understand what he's doing all the way over there. Did I do something wrong?

He swallows hard and runs his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath, "I...I have to go Kat. I don't want to, but I have to."

He turns to leave and stops for a second at the end of the counter looking back at me like he's about to say something important but changes his mind at the last second, "I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

Then he leaves and I'm left with more than one mess to clean up on my own.

Josh doesn't call all the next day after our encounter in my kitchen. I wander around the house feeling dazed and clueless about what happened last night. More importantly, why what I thought was about to happen didn't.

"I could use some help with the dishes," Mom calls to Dad who's squirreled away in the library again after dinner.

"Can't tonight honey. Big Scrabble tournament. All four of us are finally free at the same time," he told her. I swear since my Dad discovered he could play Scrabble on his iPad the two of them are inseparable. Mom doesn't always take it well. I think she's jealous.

"But I'm naked, holding nothing but your favorite glass of wine," she sings back.

Ew. So gross. So so gross.

"Mom! I'm sitting right here with my innocent impressionable ears," I put my hands over my ears for extra dramatic emphasis, but my giggling gives me away.

"Oh chill, I may be your Mom, but I'm not foolish enough to think you're that innocent Katie Marie."

"Ok then the visual you're burning into my brain will do permanent damage and seriously jeopardize my chances at getting into a good college."

"Oh please, it wasn't that long ago I was a hormonal 17 year old. I have been watching you and don't think I don't know a hickey when I see one," she said gesturing to the left side of my neck.

Double Ew. I do not like where this conversation is heading. I feel a lecture opportunity coming so I make a mental plan to exit the kitchen stage right when Mom turns to grab for a towel drying her hands. She keeps me on my stool telling me, "you'd be surprised how fast friendship turns to passion which turns to love."

"Mom, please. Don't start. My guy friends are all harmless including Josh."

"Katie, please," I hate when Moms get that mocking tone when they mimic you. There should be a parent law against it.

"You didn't have that mark on your neck when we left last night, but it was there this morning. You expect me to believe you were attacked by a vampire in the middle of the night?" Sarcasm is extremely unflattering on my Mom.

"I have seen how you and Josh are together when he's here. How he looked at you at Thanksgiving and when he's been over this month when he thought you weren't looking at him."

What? Looks how? How did he look? I'm glued to my seat now as she slowly folds the dishtowel laying it on the counter. She knows she has my attention, and she's going to punish me for being flippant earlier by making me wait to finish her sentence.

"When I was in high school..."

"About a hundred years ago..." the sarcastic mocking apple doesn't fall far from the tree Mom. I zip it when she gives me one of her rare, but patented, I'm-being-serious-you-need-to-pay-attention-now looks, and begins again.

"There was a boy who, let's just say, made my heartbeat jump to about a thousand beats a minute from the first time I saw him."

"Lust at first sight? Mom, I'm shocked."

"Hush. But, yes, that was pretty much the case. When I looked at him, I felt...fireworks. Red-hot fireworks just exploding inside me. There's no better way to describe it."

"Mom!"

"What? He was tall with dark curly hair, and an amazing laugh that just made everyone around him smile. We were friends of friends sort of. We all hung out in a big group, but one day, I realized I was taking every chance I could to see just him, talk to him a few times here and there, catch his eye, and touch his arm. I became so obsessed. It was really really bad," she chuckles to herself and chews on her bottom lip. I think she's remembering a high school moment she's not ready to share in detail. Thankfully.

"You were a stalker in high school Mom? So freaky."

"No," she said laughing, "it wasn't like that. I was just so crazy for the boy I'd known since, probably the 8th grade. There was just something about him that I could not stop thinking about him no matter what."

"So what happened?" She's hooked me. I give up and prop my elbows on the counter resting my chin on my hands. I have to find out how much of a boy-crazy stalker my Mom was. I may need ammunition for an argument sometime my senior year.

"I finally figured out that he was having just as hard a time around me as I was around him. He'd show up in my check out line every time I was on register at the drug store I worked at afterschool. He'd 'accidentally' be going the same way I was for a class. We were always seeing each other in the hallways."

"Just the hallways? Didn't you have any classes or lunch together?"

"No. I was a junior and he was a senior so we had different schedules and different classes. But then I found out he paid the kid who had the locker next to me $40 bucks to trade with him."

"Wow. A whole $40 dollars?"

"Don't laugh. That was a lot of money to a teenager in the late 80s. I thought it was a very romantic gesture."

"So then what happened with you and this hot guy? Did he ask you out?"

Did my Mom just blush? Oh My God. Her face is bright red. I have never seen my Mom blush. What memory is she recalling? Wait, I don't think I want to know.

"Let's just say things got very intense very fast after that."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I feel like a conspirator and lower my voice so Dad can't hear how she's talking about this hot mystery guy that can still make her blush 20 years later. "Mom! Oh my gosh. Are you telling me you...did it...your junior year in high school with some random guy?!?"

Holy cow. This is huge.

"No! God no. That was much later. But...we certainly came darn close quite a few times. It was hot and heavy all through that winter and into spring. Just fireworks. For the record, he wasn't some random guy. He was a friend, that I became intensely physically and emotionally attracted to and what I'm trying to explain to you is that friendship changes just that fast at 17," she said snapping her fingers in front of my face for emphasis and it makes me blink, "snap. In a blink. Just like that Katie."

I'm absolutely floored. My Mom. Hot and heavy with some guy. I can't process. She's my Mom. I cannot picture her making out with some guy and almost....I'm going to have to wash my brain with bleach.

"Katie," she said coming around the counter to stand in front of me taking my face in both her hands. I can smell the lavender from the dish soap she was using. She always has lavender in the house. It's her favorite scent. I think I'll always associate it with my Mom.

"You may think you're in control all the time, but sometimes, your heart and your body don't always do what you want them to. Boys struggle with the same exact conflict. You're not five years old anymore Katie. You are a smart, beautiful, and talented young woman. I just want you to be careful, ok? With your body and your heart."

Mom looks so serious and a little worried now it compels me to reassure her. "I will," I tell her, and I mean it.

She smiles letting go of my face and turns toward the library.

"Wait, what happened to the senior you were so hot and heavy with in high school? Did you ever look him up online? If you let me have my own Facebook account I can look him up for you. What's he doing now?"

Mom stops, turns to me with a wickedly naughty grin that surprises the heck out of me, winks and said, "he's about to have his Scrabble game seriously interrupted."

In my now shocked and confused state, I totally forget to ask her how she thought Josh looked at me at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I don't see Josh for a couple days. We have a few quick phone calls checking in with each other, but neither of us talks about what happened that night in the kitchen.

I'm in the living room, curled up under a blanket having the daylights scared out of me with my latest novel when the phone rings, "Hey, you busy?"

"Absolutely. Having an affair with a madman named Stephen King," I tell him.

"Can I come over for a few minutes?" Josh asks.

"Looking for a kinky threesome?" I smile into the phone.

"Uh, that would be a no."

"What's up?"

"Nothing, I just have something for you. Couldn't get away yesterday and...I want to see you that's all," he said.

"I'm here. Come over whenever."

Whenever is exactly 12 minutes later. That boy can certainly run fast when he wants to, even on ice and snow that showed up unexpectedly last night. He must be part polar bear. He's certainly big enough.

"Hey."

I open the door to a very chilly gust of wind and a very bundled up Josh. He's covered head to toe in winter gear but I can see those green eyes shining through the break between his hat and his scarf, "Hi. Merry belated Christmas you, get in here before you freeze to death," I tell him.

He steps inside after stomping his boots on the porch.

"Man is it cold."

"Missing your North Carolina tropics yet?" I ask him.

"Not a bit," he said giving me a quick hug, "you guys doing anything for New Year's Eve?" he asks as he sets down a small bag and starts shedding layers.

"Nah, my parents talked about going out for a fancy dinner or something but I'll probably just pass out watching that stupid glittery ball drop in New York. Laurel's actually going to be there this year with her family. Can you imagine? Laurel, in Times Square on New Year's Eve," I ask him shaking my head.

"Laurel in a throng of fashion forward New Yorkers, screaming at their favorite bands in 30 degree weather for six hours...yep sounds about right," he laughs.

"If One Direction is performing they better call in extra security, because she's insane for those British boys. You heard anything from either of the guys?" I ask him.

"Nothing from Jaxon, but Player's having fun in St. Tropez."

"How do you know he's having fun?" I ask.

"He texted me a selfie last night of him standing in the middle of about five girls in very skimpy bikinis saying 'eat your heart out'," he laughs.

"Sounds about right. C'mon upstairs," I tell him asking, "you have plans for New Year's?"

"Parents are making me go to this party for families at my Dad's firm."

"You sound thrilled."

"They're making me wear a suit and tie Kat. A CHRISTMAS tie," he said.

"What? T-shirts and running shorts weren't acceptable formal evening attire?" I tease him as we climb the stairs.

The first floorboard creaks and I hear Mom call from the library, "Doors Katie!"

"MOM!"

"What did she say?" he asks.

I'm so embarrassed I can't even turn around to look at him, "Nothing. Just Mom being a mom. Let's go," I say.

We get to my room (I leave the door open) and I retrieve his present from my desk drawer. It's not the best wrapping job, but it's not the worst either. On the other hand, the gift Josh pulls from the bag looks as if Christmas elves wrapped the present, lots of curly ribbons and perfectly crisp corners on shiny red paper.

"Geez I know you're competitive Josh, but seriously," I say looking back and forth between our two presents, "are you trying to make me feel bad?" I ask.

He laughs a great warm laugh that just wraps itself around you like a hug, "Sorry, my Mom REALLY likes Christmas; ranks at the top of her list of favorite holidays. Right after Thanksgiving she devotes an entire guest room just to wrapping," he explains, "and I told her I wanted yours to look really nice."

He gives a shy smile in response to mine, and we trade gifts at the same time and he starts to open mine sucking in his breath as his eyes open wide.

"Unbelievable! Kat, how did you get this? How did you know?" he exclaims holding the book about a famous Olympic runner he mentioned was his favorite.

I'm so happy that he likes it, and he hasn't even seen the best part yet, I can hardly wait, "open it, look at the inside cover," I tell him holding my breath.

He reads it out loud, "Every athlete is nervous - any athlete who told you they're not nervous isn't telling you the truth. Be prepared. --C Lewis Oh My God! Kat! It's an inscription? Signed by him? Oh my God! I love it! Thank you so much!" then he gives me a huge crushing hug.

"Did you know he started his sprint events in high school like me?" he said his voice filled with awe, "How in the world did you get this? It's been out of print for years and with the inscription? Holy cow!"

"We literary geeks have our ways," I smile proudly, "I didn't know about the inscription until it came in the mail last week. The description said there was an autograph but that was all. I'm so glad you like it."

"No, I love it! Open yours," he said with an eager smile.

I gently peel the tape back.

"Kat come on already!"

"You opened yours the way you want, I'll open mine my way thank you very much," I say laughing then I see it's killing him so I tear into it but I save the curled ribbons. When I see what's inside, I stop laughing.

"Oh Josh."

"You like it?"

"I don't know what to say," words fail me as I look down at the box overflowing with professional drawing supplies: sketchpad, pencils, acrylics and charcoals, watercolors. Everything I could ever want or need, "they're beautiful," I whisper.

"What's this?" I ask him picking up a smaller box at the bottom of the supplies.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it," he said hesitantly, "it's a digital artist drawing pad, it has all these built in features that are super sensitive and you can use the stylus or even your finger to create and blend then you can save your art and download it to your computer to print it. I thought maybe if you were somewhere, you couldn't carry all your supplies you could use this to sketch out ideas before you got home. If you don't like it I can take it back."

"NO! I love it!" I say clutching it to my chest, "all of it. It's...amazing. Thank you."

I give him a thank you hug, a really really long hug. We both smile when we lean back, and he asks how I found the book. We talk for a little while longer and he shows me how the software downloads for the digital sketchpad before heading home.

Unfortunately for Josh, his walk back home was even longer because he slips on the ice and twists his right ankle something fierce. He calls me later telling me he had to get X-rays, nothing looks broken thankfully, just a wrapped ankle and bed rest for the last four days of winter break and he misses the first day back of school.

Mr. MacGregor asks me if I can bring Josh his Algebra homework along with some work his other teachers have collected. I tell him sure not realizing that his books, plus my books equal a ton so I dump my half and head straight over to his house before I pull a muscle carrying the bag.

His Dad opens the door and told me Josh is upstairs resting and to go on up. Unfortunately, Josh wasn't exactly resting I realize as I walk in on him walking out of his bathroom with just a towel around his waist, "geez Kat. Ever heard of knocking?"

"Sorry. Your Dad said I could come up. He didn't say you were in the shower," I practically yelp.

"Give me a minute will you?" he asks stepping backwards into the bathroom closing the door while I'm left with the visual of his bare chest, arms and long hairy muscular legs burned into my brain. I turn around taking the opportunity to check out his room. Books and knick-knacks line three shelves along the wall over his bed. Not going to look directly at his bed though, nope.

Josh usually hangs out at my house, so this is my first time visiting his house and his room. So weird being in a guy's room. I thought it would be messier, but I'm disappointed. There are no dirty clothes or porn lying around. Just some empty dishes and a glass on his desk, CDs, a laptop, and a beautiful green and brown quilt neatly folded at the end of his bed. Disappointingly, normal.

"That's better," he said coming out of the bathroom.

I turn back around to find him towel drying his wet hair with his half grin, fully dressed in jeans and a long sleeve hoodie.

Now, back to the business of dropping off his homework, and getting the heck out of here.

"Your books weigh a ton. How do you carry these around all day?"

"That's mostly the AP Biology. It's hefty. I bench press it after school."

Bench press, great words. Just makes me look at his muscled arms and broad chest again. He reaches up to hang his wet towel on a hook on the door and it lifts the bottom of his shirt flashing me a clear shot of his tight stomach muscles.

Josh starts walking toward me for the bag when something on his bathroom sink catches my eye.

It's a tall, plastic bottle half-filled with a bright red liquid. Deep in my mind, there's a click.

I squinted my eyes, as if that would help me figure out the click. Instead, without even thinking, I drop the tote bag to cross the room in three steps pushing past him into the bathroom. I don't know why, but I desperately have to see what's in that bottle. I don't realize my hand has started shaking until I consciously make it stop so I can read the label.

Cinnamon mouthwash.

Cinnamon.

Oh God...Cinnamon.....Hard stomach muscles....Cinnamon....

Cinnamon!

My mind is reeling and I feel like I just took a swift kick to the gut that's going to make me puke any second. I try to swallow but I'm breathing in these short fast gasps that are making my lungs start to burn. I'm going to hyperventilate and pass out if I don't calm down. The sink edge is cool and solid when I grab it with my other hand to steady myself.

Deep breaths Katie. Deep, slow breaths. It can't be. Tons of people use cinnamon mouthwash right?

Josh can't be the mystery guy who kissed you on Halloween--the explosive, Earth-shattering kiss you haven't been able to stop thinking about for the last two months; the one that left you burning for more.

He can't. He just can't be.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, more clicks are happening as the pieces of a puzzle start fitting together too neatly and I know. I just know.

Before I even turn around to see the guilt and shock all over his face confirming it, I know.

I can't remember ever being this furious in my life. I'm shaking so bad now I'm not one-step out of the bathroom doorway before I hurl the mouthwash bottle right at his head. He ducks to the side right before the bottle hits a shelf above his head knocking a shoebox to the floor.

"IT WAS YOU! YOU'RE THE MYSTERY GUY! THE GUY FROM HALLOWEEN!" I scream.

"Kat calm down. I can explain," he's not denying it. How could he?

"EXPLAIN?! ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? You've had two months to explain!"

Then my eyes fly wide open as I'm blindsided remembering all the times he's sat with us at lunch and after school since that night; all those times when Laurel brought up Halloween and we talked about the kiss. When I was delirious with a high fever telling him how amazing the guy's mouth was.

All the dozens and dozens of times we've been alone together in the fort, and he knew. HE KNEW!

Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! I'm so embarrassed I can feel my face burning up. All those times talking about lightning and fireworks and his amazing lips. I turn my back on him throwing my hands over my face trying to block it all out. Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop! Don't cry! Don't cry!

How could he do this? HOW?

I can't stop shaking. With anger or humiliation, I don't know. Moreover, I don't care.

Suddenly I feel him behind me, the weight of his hands on my shoulders, "Kat I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to lie to you. I tried to tell you so many times. I just--"

I drop my hands from my face wheeling on him with fury radiating off me now in waves. "YOU TRIED TO TELL ME? WHEN?"

He's either too shocked at my outburst or too stupid to say anything and takes a step back away from me.

"When did you try to tell me Josh? When I was sick back in November telling you about this amazing kiss I had with this strange guy at a party? Or, how about all the times when you heard me and Laurel talking at lunch trying to figure out who the mystery guy was?"

I advance on him another step. The only things I feel are my burning anger and my nails digging into my palms from balling my hands so tightly into fists at my sides, "oh, maybe it was when you were walking me home from that Halloween party, you remember, ABOUT FIVE MINUTES AFTER YOU WERE GROPING ME IN THE DARK?"

"It wasn't like that Kat and you know it!"

"I KNOW? I KNOW? TELL ME WHAT THE HELL I KNOW JOSH?"

He stumbles back another step almost crushing the shoebox I knocked off the wall. It makes us both look down at it.

The guilt on his face turns to fear when he looks back at me then scrambles to grab something from the carpet with one hand, and pick up the box and cover it with the lid with his other hand. But, he's not fast enough. There was something familiar about what I saw him grab and I want to see it. I'm still furious and burning but my brain has gone into overdrive trying to access old memories.

"Stop! What is that?" I demand pointing at his hand. He's gripping it so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

I run over to take it from him, ready to force his fingers open if I have to, but he just stands there with his face a frozen mask of fear and uncertainty. He opens his hand showing me his palm. The past comes flooding back like a tsunami washing over me replacing my anger with shock.

Lying in the palm of his hand I recognize the tiny smiley face staring up at me from the little round clay tile I made for him in 3nd grade. Without turning it over, I remember that our initials are together on the other side of the tile. The design matching our initials that like he carved for us on the tree in our fort.

At some point in the past 7 years, he made a hole at the top of the tile. There's a black cord looped through it now that is tangled in his fingers. I look at the box on the floor to see a small pile of pink envelopes. The big sloppy cursive letters on the top envelope aren't immediately recognizable, but, instinctively I know they're mine. The shoebox is full of the letters I wrote to him after my parents finally told me he moved to North Carolina in the fourth grade. He never wrote back. Not once, but he kept all my letters.

The small envelopes look more worn than I think they should after being in a box for seven years. The edges are worn and the paper is wrinkled like the covers and pages of my favorite paperback books that I have read over and over. Is that what he did? Did he read my letters repeatedly all these years? Then why did he never write back? Why did he ignore me?

This is too much for me to handle. Memories aren't the only things that flood back; all the pain and fear and loneliness that my ten-year-old self felt and pushed down deep come bubbling up to the surface like a massive volcano and I explode all over again.

"Do you have any idea how horrible that whole summer was for me and all of 5th grade the next year?" I yell at him pointing at the box he set on the nightstand.

"I cried every week. My Mom and Dad were out of their minds about how to help me. They made me see a therapist for Christ's sake."

I watch him wince like I slapped him and the thought to do just that has crossed my mind more than once in the last five minutes since my world shattered into what feels like a million pieces.

His face changes lightning fast as he takes one-step to close the two feet that were separating us and grabs me by the arms.

"It was no picnic for me either Kat. My whole entire world fell apart. I was nine Kat. Nine! I was just a little kid. My Dad was gone. I had to pack every stupid little thing I owned, practically overnight. Leave my school. Leave my friends," he lets go of my arms to start pacing his room like a restless tiger, back and forth across the room from one wall to the other. My eyes track his movements without blinking.

"I had to finish 4th grade over the summer with tutors at my grandparent's house where we moved. And my Mom. Oh my God! My Mom, Kat. She cried all the time. Never in front of me, but I'd hear her in her room every night. It was as if I lost her too. She stopped laughing and joking around. She didn't make me snacks afterschool or dinner anymore. I had to walk home through a strange neighborhood all alone and it was my grandma who met me afterschool not her. When I did see my Mom, it was as if it wasn't even her. She was just some robot walking around the house, doing laundry, making stupid small talk in the car driving me to a new school where I didn't know a single soul. You still had friends here," he said pointing at me accusingly.

"You knew people still. I didn't know anyone at school or at home. You cried all of 5th grade? Well, I barely said a word in 5th grade. To anyone. My whole life turned inside out upside down and I didn't know why! No one would ever tell me why!"

He chokes out those last words through trembling lips and tries to sit on the edge of his bed but just collapses down onto it. His head rests on his fists for a second then he drops his hands between his knees taking in big shaky gulps of air. He won't look at me but I can see his eyes are all glossy, filled with tears that just haven't spilled over yet like mine that are running down both sides of my face.

I totally forget how mad I was at him. Now all I can do is sit on the bed next to him. This time I don't hesitate like I did at Thanksgiving. This time I throw my arms around his shoulders and squeeze my first best friend as hard as I can, as if I'll never let him go. His arms snake around my waist fast as he buries his face in my hair squeezing me tight like he's holding on for dear life.

I don't know how long we stay like that on the edge of his bed just holding each other, rocking gently back and forth taking turns sobbing into each other's shoulders. Eventually we're sitting side-by-side holding hands. I shift so I can rest my cheek against his shoulder. He moves his arm around my shoulder and rests his chin on the top of my head.

Our breathing goes back to normal. I'm all cried out, have about a thousand knots in my stomach, and feel exhausted but I don't want to break whatever spell we're both under by being the first one to speak. Not to mention I have no idea what I would say. My brain is completely offline at this point. Josh saves me the trouble.

"Well...I think that was a long time coming," he said in a gravelly voice that is as raw as my emotions feel.

"Yeah."

"Kat...I...I have no idea what to say next."

"Me neither."

"It's all just..."

"I know."

I did. He was just as lost and confused as I was, maybe more. Right then, holding onto each other would have to be enough to keep our friendship intact for now. We're both too raw to really think or talk about anything else coherently. I suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to leave. My emotions spent. Feelings raw. I needed space.

"I better go."

He gives my shoulder a last gentle squeeze, kisses the top of my head, and drops his arm. When I stand up he's still holding my hand, but I can only look at the floor. I don't think I have any more tears left in me, but I'm worried if I looked at him, I might start balling all over again and my jacket sleeve is already totally soaked from wiping my nose.

"Josh," I say giving my hand the tiniest tug.

"Kat."

His voice is made of nothing but sadness and regret. My eyes start tearing up again. Are you kidding me? How am I not dehydrated already? I sniff and risk the smallest glance at him. His head is bent down. He can't look at me either. This time when I pull at my hand he lets go. I walk to the door without another word. It feels like the longest, hardest walk of my life.

When I open his bedroom door to leave, I gasp.

Standing there in front of me looking like they've seen a ghost are both of Josh's parents. They're holding onto each other leaning against the hallway wall across from his room.

Seeing both of their blotchy, tear stained faces it hits me—they heard everything.

We're all just standing there, nobody daring to say a word for what feels like hours until his Dad asks me, "Katie...would you like a ride home?"

All I can do is give my head the tiniest little shake no. Then I follow his Mom's eyes to where she's trying to peek past me to see Josh. That's when I finally turn to look at him. His eyes are all puffy and red but he's sitting there still as a statue, looking like that frightened, hurt nine year old little boy from so long ago.

His eyes meet mine and I mentally ask him if he wants me to stay. I feel protective of my friend now. I don't want anyone else to hurt him. He must have caught the question in my eyes because he gives me a tight-lipped smile and the barest nod of his head that it's ok. I can go.

I give him a small smile in return and walk out the door. At the top of the stairs, I stop to look back down the hallway and see both his parents take a hesitant step together into his room.

I fight down the urge to run back in there, instead I say a quick prayer that he'll be ok and then I run all the way home as fast as I can until my lungs are burning like they're on fire.

Mom and Dad meet me at the door. They were a little anxious not knowing where I'd been. I told them I was heading over to Josh's to drop off his homework, but that was 2.5 hours ago. I must look a mess from all the crying earlier and I was gasping to fill my burning lungs with air after the run (which is now officially not my sport) but still, they don't nag me or ask a lot of questions; guess they can tell I'm not in the mood to talk. Dad gives me a quick hug and kiss on the forehead then disappears into the library while Mom warms me up a plate from dinner and brings it to my room while I hop in the shower.

I eat fast then crash into bed. Exhausted to be sure, but three hours later and I still can't shut my brain down or stop thinking about everything that had happened tonight. Josh kept all my letters and the tile I made him when I was eight, but never wrote or called me even though he knew I was here the whole time. I replay everything he said over and over in my head. He was so hurt. So abandoned. My heart is breaking all over again for how lonely we both were when we were little.

I'm about to start a fresh round of crying when my phone buzzes on my nightstand with a new text. Laurel's grounded for the week and lost her phone privileges again. No one else but Jaxon and Player ever really calls or texts me, and I don't recognize the number so I have no idea who it could be.

Hey

Weird area code. Who's this?

Me. Josh.

For a brief second, I feel my heart stop. How did he get my cell number?

How'd you get my #?

A long pause on the phone isn't good. Means the person on the other end either is a slow typist or is thinking of how to abbreviate a lie.

Don't b mad ok?

Ur so not the best person to ask that right now u know

Ugh. Want me 2 leave u alone?

Ok, a possible third option for a long pause is because the dork on the other end doesn't know what she wants to say.........no

:)

Ok, so how'd you get my #

Laurel

Oh she is so dead! She knows she's not supposed to give out my number. That's like BFF rule one. She's going to have some huge explaining to do first thing in the morning or I'm going to plaster her cell number on a billboard off the highway.

Kat u ok?

Yeah. wondering same about u

These long pauses are twisting my stomach into pretzel knots again. He texted me. Why isn't he talking?

Been better

Ditto

Want me to call?

NO! I type back too fast and all caps. Not cool Katie. No take backs once you hit Send dummy.

OK!

Sorry. I just mean. I just need some space. a lot to take in 2night. Need 2 process

I understand

Thx. I wonder where he's at. I glance at the clock, 11.08pm. Probably in his room. In his bed. Whoa. Brain do not go there. Especially while you're in your PJs in your bed. Josh was the guy that night. His lips and his hands. Josh's lips. Josh's hands.

Holy shit. What the hell happens now? I am so screwed.

Kat? Geez Louise. His text buzz almost made me drop my phone. Am I going to be jumpy forever now when it comes to him?

Yeah? Spit it out already Josh. What?

I'm sorry. 100000x

For what? He has a pretty good list going of things to apologize to me for. I may feel sorry for him, but I'm also still angry though I'm not 100% sure about what anymore. Now that he's not holding me and crying, I'm back to being mad. A little bit.

Almost Everything.

Ha! Nice try Josh. No blanket apologies accepted. All formal admissions of guilt must be spelled out in detail. I think about how to make him squirm now, but I quickly lose my train of thought with a huge yawn that makes me realize I'm too tired and drained to be mad right now. Maybe tomorrow.

Kat??

Still here. Just really tired. Looooong day

I should let u sleep

S'ok Wait. I read back over his texts. ALMOST everything? What exactly is he not sorry for? He should be apologizing for everything he did.

What do u mean ALMOST?

???

You said you were sorry for ALMOST everything. What AREN'T you sorry for? He's taking way too long to reply. I already know he's not a slow typer because he was texting fast back and forth fast several times already. So now I have to decide is he figuring out how to lie or trying to figure out what he wants to say.

Josh?

Yeah

What aren't u sorry 4?? The waiting is killing me, "ANSWER ALREADY!" I yell at my phone.

Kissing you

NOW I really can't breathe. All I can do was stare at those two words until my phone light blinked off and I had to tap it again to get the light to come back on. His words are still there in blue. He's not sorry for kissing me.

Kissing you

Kissing you

Kissing you

I can't stop staring at his text, and faster than I can snap my fingers I'm right back in that dark room last October feeling his hand trailing fire up and down my back under my t-shirt, pulling me hard against his body, his fingers are in my hair, his lips are practically devouring mine, cinnamon, and his tongue. Oh God. And last week in the kitchen after we made cookies. Oh dear God.

My bedroom suddenly feels way too small and about a thousand degrees hotter than a moment ago. I squeeze my eyes tight and try to get a grip. When my phone rings I actually let out a small yelp and drop it on my bedspread. The weird area code is now lighting up my screen with the Answer/Decline buttons blinking.

It's Josh.

Holy crap. No freaking way I can talk to him right now. I press and hold the power button until the screen goes black. Way to be the cowardly lion Katie. You blocked him out now, but what are you going to do tomorrow morning?

Chapter 12

I don't want to go to school. I have no idea how I'm ever going to face Josh after all this stuff is between us now. I just can't deal, but Mom won't let me hide out in my room. I won't give her a straight answer why I want to stay home, I just tell her I'm not ready to go back yet.

No dice. The heartless evil Mom monster kicks me out the door telling me to get my butt to school and face my fears.

Sometimes it royally sucks having a psychiatrist for your Mom. You can't get away with anything.

I don't see Josh all morning or at lunch until he walks in late to 4th period Algebra class. I'm suddenly incredibly absorbed with my head down reading the copyright and Library of Congress information at the front of our textbook and staring down at the floor until I see his Converse pass my chair and hear him sit down behind me.

I'm still looking down wondering what the heck the heat is set on in here when I see his left leg stretch out next to the side of my chair and give it three taps.

I can't help but smile to myself. I reach down slowly and give his leg a pat, letting my hand rest there for a little while.

Josh comes up after 5th period leaning against the row of lockers next to mine and said, "I'm sorry."

"Why, what did you do now?" I tease without looking up. When he's casual like this, I forget for a moment that there's all this massively huge pile of stuff between us, and he's just Josh again. My old friend.

But then I look up into his gorgeous green eyes that make me catch my breath and it all comes flooding back like a tsunami.

"For making it all weird between us. We should probably go somewhere and talk huh?" he said.

"Sure, but I really need to get home and practice my lines today. Auditions for the senior play are next week. Rain check?"

"Sure."

And I try to make as graceful exit as I can down the hall and spend the rest of the week making small talk trying not to be left alone with him.

Yes, I'm a chicken shit. So, what?

Hey

Even if I didn't recognize his weird area code now, I'd know it was him. That's become his signature greeting for texting and talking.

Hw

Study break?

What's up?

thinking of u

He types a few words on a screen from three streets away and my pulse jumps twenty points. If I had any brains I'd shut my phone off right now.

Thinking what?

Dumbass. I'm nuts I know. It's like waving a red flag in front of a bull, I'm just asking for trouble, but I'm curious ok? Stupid maybe, but curious even more. So I brace myself for what comes after his long pauses...they've been bombshells so far. Figuring this could be a while I take a drink from the cup next to me and the phone pings.

When I can kiss u again

I nearly spew Gatorade all over my laptop I'm choking so bad. I was right. Bombshell. KABOOM! I recover but I didn't just wave the flag in front of the bull I walked right up and smacked it on the snout with it. Now what? Offense or defense?

Sorry, school already has a Player

Whoa. Low blow Kat and totally NOT TRUE

Jk

NOT funny

Will we ever be able to have a normal conversation texting or talking again?

After school the senior play auditions kick into high gear.

Since Jaxon and I won first place at the One Act Festival, we get to go right after Player and we decide to do the same one act scene for our audition.

We're so anxious until the cast list goes up we practically race to the cafeteria each day to look for it, then finally after four long days, we excitedly find our names near the top.

YES! Bucket list item #1...check!

Play rehearsals are after school three days a week starting immediately.

Josh isn't allowed to run on his ankle for a few months, doctor's orders, so he decides to join the stage crew for the play. There are no auditions for stage or tech crew, the only requirements are a willingness to tolerate an unlimited number of splinters and bruises building movable sets for the scene changes.

I like getting to spend more time with Josh after school, but seeing him talk with other girls during rehearsals...I didn't think this would bother me, but, it does starting the very first week.

Of course they notice him walking around flexing in his stupid t-shirts that are three sizes too small. Seriously, does he know there's a big boy section in the stores with clothes that would actually fit him?

After about two weeks, Josh and I seem to have an uneasy peace between us most days. Neither of us is sure how to act around the other one now and I hate that.

At lunch we keep conversations to meaningless talk about homework, rehearsals and set construction for the play, pretending that nothing has happened and that no huge revelations were revealed or that we both survived an emotional train wreck in his bedroom.

There are also no more texts about kissing, which is good, I guess. I really don't know what I feel about all that. I'm really confused about how I feel about him in general.

It doesn't help me though, sitting next to him at lunch when his leg accidentally rubs against mine under the table as he sits down next to me, or when his fingers lightly brush my hair and neck every time he reaches over me to borrow a piece of paper or a pencil in Algebra class. If I didn't know better I'd swear he was constantly losing his pencils on purpose.

Afterschool, play rehearsals aren't much better remembering back to October knowing now that it was his lips that nipped at my ear and his fingers trailing fire on my skin.

When I'm not careful he catches me staring at those lips and I'm rewarded for my carelessness with one of his new wicked grins and a flash of his eyes or, (dear God) a wink, telling me he knows exactly what I'm thinking about.

"Do you want to grab a pizza at Gino's after rehearsal this afternoon?"

Holy crap. I was so distracted thinking about him, I didn't notice he walked right up to me. His simple question startles me making me nearly jump out of my skin.

He pretends not to notice, but his grin told me he does, "I have my parent's car. I could drop you home right after."

Like a date? Is Josh asking me out on a date date or a lets-get-together-and-hangout-as-friends date?

"Ohhhh. I can't wait to hear the end of this conversation," Laurel snickers from the pile of costume fabric she's sorting on the floor behind me.

Shut. Up. I mouth down at her over my shoulder. Her huge grin and wink back up at me are so not helping. She's enjoying watching me squirm; the perky little trouble-making monster.

"That sounds fun but...I sort of made plans with someone today just after lunch," I tell him.

But before I can ask if he wants to come with us he said, "how do you 'sort of' make plans? And who exactly is this someone?"

The sharp edge to his voice has me raising my eyebrows in surprise but before I can answer, Player shows up throwing an arm over my shoulders.

"Hot stuff. Ready to roll?"

Josh looks straight at me with those gorgeous green eyes blazing, "are you kidding me?"

I tilt my head giving him a warning look before either of us said something stupid.

Too late.

"Fine!" he said through gritted teeth.

I watch him turn and storm off as Player said, "What crawled up his ass and died?"

This day is turning out so great.

There's only one place in town for pizza and that's Gino's. Although I wasn't quite in the mood to hang out after my encounter with Josh the hour before, Laurel said it'll be good for me to get out and have some fun after we've been working so hard. I haven't been able to make myself tell her about Josh and I yet, but I wonder if her BFF radar is on full detection alert.

I decide to blow off some steam with my friends, so, I go.

The three of us grab a free booth just inside the door and Jaxon meets up with us a little later after he finishes blocking his bar fight scene.

After we wolfed down our fill of Pizza and Dr. Pepper we were just hanging out goofing on each other when I had to put on my literary boxing gloves for a throw down fight over Twilight vs. Vampire Academy.

Player must know he's losing ground with his weak defense of Edward and Bella as he smears some red sauce from the pizza scraps spreading it all over his mouth and starts to pretend to bite my neck as a Cullen Vampire.

"EWWW!!! YOU ARE SO GROSS! STOP IT! STOP IT!" I laugh out loud trying to squish my shoulder into my neck to block the attack.

Jaxon and Laurel are about to cry or wet themselves from laughing so hard.

That is the exact moment Josh picks to walk through the door and catch sight of me in the booth with my friends—with Player's arms around me, his face buried in my neck.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Talk about your royally crappy timing.

His face is a mask of pure fury looking like he's about to kill someone, me or Player, not sure which.

My laughter dies in my throat as Laurel and Jaxon turn their heads following to see what I'm looking at. All three of us watch Josh head straight to the counter where he picks up a take-out order and heads back out the door, shoulders ramrod stiff, without looking back at our table.

That brief exchange drains the last of my good mood and Jaxon offers to give me a ride home. We leave the table letting Player slide into the seat Jaxon leaves empty by Laurel and he continues his Vampiric attack on her as we walk out the door.

Glad to see someone's world isn't falling apart the way mine feels like it is.

Our pseudo literary talk over pizza earlier made me reach for my Vampire Academy series books that night to step back into the world of Rose and Dimitri. I'm just putting them back when my iPhone buzzes on the desk.

Hey.

Kat?

I know you're there.

Silent treatment? Guess I deserve it.

How does he know I'm reading his texts? Maybe I'm still out with my friends. Maybe I'm busy doing something not just waiting around for him to call/text.

I can see your bedroom lights on.

Stalker boy. I finally text back.

Hey.

Where are you? I ask.

Look out your window.

My curiosity gets the better of me and I pull back my curtains just a few inches. I'm surprised to see him down there leaning against the oak tree in my front yard. There are a couple of inches of snow that fell earlier making it look like a shiny white blanket covers the yard. Then I notice there's something wrong with the snow near where he's standing.

He's stomped out the word S O R R Y in the snow with his boots.

All I can do is shake my head in wonder. I do not know what to do with this guy.

He smiles and looks down at his phone for a second before mine buzzes.

Nite Kat. Sweet dreams.

I lean over my desk to look out the window again and he's gone.

The 6pm news calls for a snow and ice storm the next day and Mother Nature does not disappoint. I wake up blinking to a clock that shouts it's 9.18am and I have overslept. I have a momentary panic but then I remember Mom always comes in and turns off my alarm, when they cancel school letting me sleep in. Another way she is somewhat cool, though how she creeps into my room without waking me up I will never know. I have an unexpected snow day at home that's a nice surprise.

Though it makes me remember another snow day a month before that quickly darkens my mood. I try to shake it off focusing on a free day home alone of reading and drawing and being a major lounge lizard and head downstairs in my PJs to forage for breakfast.

I'm halfway through some scrambled eggs and toast when the doorbell rings.

I peek through the peephole (safety first) to see Josh standing on my front porch looking over his should at the snow plow crawling down the street.

There goes the quiet free day.

Before opening the door, I briefly consider bolting up the stairs to hide under my covers. I probably should learn to trust those first instincts.

"Hey."

"Hi Josh. What's up?'

"Can I come in for a minute, it's sort of freezing out here," he asks making a show of stomping his snow-covered boots on the porch.

I step back opening the door all the way, "I guess."

"I won't stay long," he said coming just a few steps in, "I know you probably want to spend the day catching up on some reading, but I have been thinking a lot the last few weeks and I just needed to talk to you."

'Catching up on my reading', no fair him knowing me so well.

"Ok, I'm listening."

He unzips his coat and starts looking around the hallway and into the living room, anywhere but at me. He's stalling. What now?

"Earth to Josh, I'm right here," I say waving my hands in front of his face, "what's going on?"

He takes a deep breath and said, "I know I screwed up not telling you right away that it was me that night at the party. I just didn't know how and the more time we spent together, the harder it got. I need to know you believe me that I never meant to lie to you. It just...it all just got so out of hand and I didn't know how to fix it without upsetting you more," he said dropping his voice so low at the end I have to strain to hear him.

His eyes have such a hurt look to them.

I stare at the floor thinking about what he said for a minute trying to take it all in before I answer.

"Kat? I want us to have a clean slate," he pleads.

I glance back up to see those deep green eyes now filled with apprehension, "I do believe you Josh. Still you should have been honest with me, but...I can see how it could have been difficult for you," I say.

He breathes a big sigh of relief and the smallest smile plays at the edge of his mouth, but then he clears his throat.

"If I'm being 100% honest here to start that clean slate, I should probably also apologize for letting things get carried away and then just bailing on you that night during winter break too."

I can't stop the heat I feel flooding my cheeks, but I can't look away either as I listen to everything he's saying just come rushing out.

"I meant what I said in the fort that was the best day I'd ever had. After your parents left, I just couldn't keep away from you any longer and once I started touching you I almost got lost in all of it, but then I remembered you didn't know and it just felt like I was taking advantage and lying to you even more. That's why I left. I couldn't bear it, and I couldn't find the guts to tell you yet."

I don't know what to say. I can't move and I can't speak. All I can do is stand there in my tank top and SpongeBob Squarepants pajama bottoms and fuzzy slippers listening to him go on.

Josh takes a hesitant step closer to me and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear leaving his hand resting against my neck while my heart slams against my chest like it's about to explode through my ribcage.

"I don't know what's wrong with me Kat. I know I act one way at school and I'm different here at your house, but I can't explain it. At school I feel so...jealous I guess of all your friends. The guys and how they talk to you, I feel like I want to just keep you all to myself and not have to share you with anyone. You were my friend first, and longest. I know it's stupid, but that's how I feel, but I'm going to work on it. I promise."

Still can't breathe, or talk. What the hell has happened to my brain? Apparently staring is my only ability right now, and standing up, but my legs are feeling wobblier by the second, so that's not going to last much longer if he keeps talking, and looking so intensely at me like this.

I see him swallow hard and inch closer to me so we're almost nose to nose and he closes his eyes, "that night at the party, and winter break," he said his voice low and rough now just like at Halloween, "they were the most amazing nights of my life Kat. I can't stop thinking about them, or you. I..."

Then he opens his eyes and there's no more words, just Josh's lips on mine, soft, gently searching for a response from me. This slower assault on my senses is just as explosive as the other two times his lips touched me, maybe even more now that I have everything he's just said swirling around in my head.

I start to kiss him back and feel his arms wrap around me as I slip mine into his jacket around his waist. Our kissing isn't as intense as it was before, this time it feels newer, tentative and exploring but just as powerful. My mind is spinning out of control and my body is desperately trying to keep up.

A few breathless moments later, Josh lifts his head and I rest my cheek against his chest. I can hear his heart beating fast like mine while he stands there cradling me in his arms.

"I'm still your friend Kat, and I'm terrified of losing what we've just found again, but...I also want to do right by you and be the kind of guy you deserve. I can. I'll show you I can. If you just give me a chance, I think we can work it all out," he said his voice still coming out shaky. He sounds as affected as I feel, but at least he can talk. All I can do is nod up and down rubbing my cheek against his shirt.

His lips tenderly seek out mine again one last time before he said, "I'm going to go and let you have some time to yourself. See you tomorrow ok?"

Still can only nod. Vocalization is not even a remote possibility. I can barely remember to inhale and exhale.

He smiles and quietly closes the door behind him.

I twist the deadbolt and slump against the door sliding to the floor.

So much for a quiet, relaxing day at home.

When Mom and Dad get home later and ask me how my day was, all I can do is nod, "it was...good."

I'm about to find out if Rose can save Dimitri's soul when my phone pings. I reluctantly put my book down on my bed. I know it isn't Laurel because she just told me to stop texting her an hour ago, she needed her beauty sleep. I didn't tell her about Josh's visit this morning, or that he's the Halloween mystery guy yet. How can I? What do I say? I have no idea what we are right now, or where we're going. It all feels a little surreal still.

Hey. I smile.

What are u doing up so late?

Duh. texting u

U should be asleep

Said the girl who's still up to answer a text!

It's past midnight. I'm reading. why r u still up?

Can't sleep. Lying here in bed thinking of u

Whoa. Lots of new territory here. The visuals exploding in my mind are soooo not calming. What Josh wears to bed. Pajamas? T-shirt and thong like me? Probably not the thong, geez hope not. Just boxers? The last option takes me a minute to recover from.

Thinking?

Apparently, I haven't learned my lesson since the last time I asked him that, or I'm just a glutton for punishment but either way my stomach is fluttering and my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so big.

What an AMAZING kisser u r

Fluttering now replaced by back flips.

They say it takes 2

What else do they say?

Uh oh, now I can feel that thrilling little danger factor slowly crawling up my spine. I bet this is exactly how all those sexting scandals start.

They say I need my beauty sleep. I better go.

Not possible. You can't get any more beautiful than you already are.

I have to end this fast before the fire in my belly leads me do something really really stupid.

G'nite Josh

Nite Kat. Sweet dreams

Chapter 13

That uneasy, unspoken truce Josh and I have is still going on the first week of February, but there's still a lot unresolved between us. The first few days after his snow day talk (well him talking, me just nodding like a moron), I find Josh waiting at my locker during the day, and he walks with me to my classes sometimes putting a hand at my back to help steer me through the crowd of kids when we're going up the stairs.

However, we haven't kissed again, and he doesn't try to hold my hand or anything, but I notice we are constantly touching each other, leaning on each other during the day when we're joking about something. Laurel has even started giving me funny looks at lunch so I'm trying to make a conscious effort not to put my hand on his arm all the time. I'm not sure to confide in her yet when I'm still so unsure myself.

Not really being sure of what we are to each other is creating all this tension. Sometimes I feel like I'm walking on a high tight rope wire that's about to snap.

Today is one of those days.

He's sitting there at lunch acting all innocent eating little red candies that are melting in his palm.

"What are those?" Laurel asks him.

He pauses for half a second before answering, but I notice the pause and it makes me look up from my latest Lois Lowry book.

"Spicy candy," he glances across the table at me with a smirk firmly planted on his smug little face. I narrow my eyes at him, I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work.

"Really, what do they taste like?" Please shut up now clueless Laurel.

He's enjoying this. The jerk is actually savoring every second of this conversation.

Josh pops the last few into his mouth, looks me straight in the eye, slowly licks his fingers (making something tighten in the pit of my stomach), and said, "cinnamon."

I was willing to tolerate the smirk, but the cocked eyebrow and obvious teasing push me over the edge. I get up, throw my backpack over my shoulder, and storm off to the sound of him calling after me, "Come on Kat. I was joking. Come back. Don't be mad."

His plea might have been more believable if he wasn't laughing when he said it.

I cannot believe I used to look forward to having class with him right after lunch. Algebra is even more of a pain than ever and it has nothing to do with the upcoming coordinates graphing test we're studying for.

I deliberately grab a seat in the front row without even a glance at the back of the room where HE is. Jaxon walks in a minute later, looks at me then the back row then to me again.

"We've moved?"

"Sit down or go somewhere else," I snap at him.

"Okay," he said drawing out the word as he slides into the seat next to mine.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope."

The next 45 minutes are the most focused on math I have ever been in my entire life.

Later Laurel corners me between classes asking me what is going on between Josh and me. I try to tell her nothing, but she is the human lie detector. The CIA should be actively recruiting her.

I finally break and tell her everything. She's furious that I didn't immediately tell her Josh was the mystery guy from Halloween and doesn't talk to me for the next two hours. Lucky for me she blows up then (unlike me) cools down fast without holding a grudge. She also doesn't press me for details about the night I found out.

I also tell her about the snow day visit two weeks ago but confess I just don't know enough about how we feel about each other.

"Honestly, I'm afraid to talk to him about it. I wish I could just know one way or the other already. Does he want to me to be his girlfriend or not?" I ask.

"Don't worry about it. Here's what we're going to do," she said and begins to tell me she has a plan that involves her second favorite thing next to kissing boys...Scheming.

She concocts an elaborate plan that seems like it's straight out of a bad Disney teen movie--to see how Josh really feels about me we'll try to make him jealous. She'll buy carnations from the Cheerleader fundraiser for Valentine's Day at school next week and send them to me signed my secret admirer and we'll see how he reacts.

We should have had a Plan B.

Valentine's Day Laurel runs up to me at the end of the day when I'm heading to my locker to pack up.

"Don't hate me ok?"

"Not your best opening line Laurel, especially these days (I haven't forgotten she gave Josh my cell #). What's up?" I say.

"I forgot to order the flowers at lunch. I'm sorry," she does not look good when she squints at me like that.

"Laurel! It was your plan! What happened?"

Apparently there was this guy who sort of caught her off guard giving her a Valentine's Day present she was totally not expecting and they got to talking (Laurel talking to a guy!?) and one thing led to another and she was late for lunch. By the time she got to the table, the cheerleader told her that some guy had just come by and bought the last 10 dozen flowers they had left. He bought them all for one girl for delivery today.

"Some guy bought 120 flowers for just one girl? Not likely. That's $120 bucks. Major money. I bet it was Player handing them out to all his conquests," I laugh.

"NO IT WASN'T!" Laurel told me loudly. Weird.

"Chill Laurel," I tell her doing my locker combination. The door doesn't open at first. I try the combo again and pull. The latch lifts straight up but the door seems jammed. I give it another hard yank and it flies open as red carnations explode out at me spilling all over the hallway floor. I jump back out of reflex and fall back into a hard chest nearly losing my balance until a pair of strong arms catches me before I embarrassingly end up sprawled on the hallway floor.

"Hey."

Five months later, and his voice still makes me jump like a nervous cat.

"Nice flowers."

I look back at all the flowers still packed in my locker and the huge pile spilled all over the floor and turn to look back up at him.

"You are unbelievable you know that?"

"I'm aware, yes," Josh said, his eyes flashing.

"Oh My Gosh," Laurel said finally catching on.

I hear Player next to her say, "Hey Laurel, about how many flowers do you think that is?"

"Well Eli, if I had to guess, I'd say about 120," she said giggling.

"I should smack that stupid smirk right off your face you know that?" I tell Josh.

"Yes. But I don't think you will," he said giving his head a little shake.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?" I ask.

"I'll give you two," Josh said smiling before he takes me into his arms and gives me a huge toe-curling kiss right there in the middle of the hallway in front of everyone. Just like Halloween, just like the snow days, there are fireworks everywhere and my brain becomes mush. All I can do is stand on my tiptoes, throw my arms around him, revel in the feeling of his lips on mine, and try to remember to breathe without letting go as he lifts me off the floor crushing me to his chest.

An ear splitting wolf whistle and the sound of everyone in the hallway clapping and hooting brings me back to my senses. Josh too because he gently lowers me back to the ground.

"What am I going to do with you Josh?" I whisper.

"Anything you want Kat," he whispers back.

A surprising tension-free week since the flower and public kissing event, and I send Josh an SOS text Saturday afternoon asking if he can come over to help me with my English paper.

Sitting on the floor in my room with my books open and papers scattered everywhere I hear the front door open and crane my neck to watch for him coming up the stairs.

A moment later, I hear footsteps then Josh is at my doorway but he's not coming in. I watch his eyes dart to my bed and back to me, "I'm not sure this is such a hot idea Kat. Maybe we should work on your paper in the kitchen?"

"Relax. My door is open, and my Mom is right downstairs. I'm not going to bite you," I tease, "right now I need you for your brains, not your body."

"Well that's disappointing," he said grinning and walks around my bed to where he sees me sprawled out on the floor in the middle of the chaos that is my research project.

"All kidding aside, I need serious help with this. Half my grade this semester is riding on this project. I spent two solid days on it getting nowhere. I need help and you're the only grammar geek I know."

He drops his backpack on the floor to sit down next to me, "ok, let's get started then."

An hour and half later, the project is done. I gather up my work putting the laptop back on my desk and I see him out of the corner of my eye. He's leaning back against the side of my bed resting his arm on his propped up knee just looking at me shaking his head.

"What?" I ask him.

"You're such a paradox."

"That doesn't sound very complimentary," I say.

"I mean I just don't understand how someone who practically inhales as many different books as you do has so much trouble with writing a research paper."

I try to pinch him on the arm, "shut up you."

I'm only half-serious, but I'm not exactly feeling flattered over here.

"Ouch. I'm serious," he said half laughing, "you have a real talent for writing, but you're just so all over the place with your thought organization. I could help you with that more if you want."

"Are you criticizing my writing now grammar geek? I'll show you thought organization," and I make a mad attempt for that ticklish spot behind his knee, but he figures out what I'm planning and blocks me (damn that boxing training). He moves light lightning catching both my wrists dragging me up across his lap, pinning me against his chest.

"Someone feeling feisty? You know I'm bigger and faster than you, right? No way can you ever take me in a tickle fight."

"Odds never stopped me before. You have it coming," I try to wiggle free from his grip to get at least one good shot in before he can get me back, but somehow I just end up straddling his lap. Geez he's strong.

Before I have time to react to how I'm positioned, he lets go of my wrists to wrap both his arms around my waist.

"Kat," the way he said my name low and hungry like that sets my senses on fire instantly. Snap.

I can't stop looking at him. Those amazing eyes. Even when I can feel how excited he is through our jeans, and I see him raise one hand to my face, I can't stop staring.

"My Kat," he whispers. Oh God. When he said it soft and possessive like that, I'm just...I can't think anymore as he slowly guides my lips down to meet his. What is wrong with me? Where is my will power with this guy? Will I ever get tired of kissing him?

"Katie? Dad's on his way home. We're eating in 15 minutes. Come down and set the table. Is Josh staying for dinner?" My Mom's nightly announcement brings our heated moment to a screeching stop before it can really get going. Maybe that's for the best. It was getting really intense, really fast.

"I'll ask him," I holler back.

I can feel his whole body start to shake with laughter beneath me, "Ah, parentus interruptus. A classic."

"Mom radar. I think she's honed her abilities since you've moved back."

I'm still straddling him and his right hand is still cupping the side of my face, but the moment is gone and we're left leaning forehead-to-forehead with him rubbing my temple with his thumb while we both just sit there giggling.

"So, is Josh staying for dinner?" I ask him.

"Sure. But Josh is going to need a couple minutes before he can go downstairs," he said which sends us both into another fit of nervous giggles.

He gives me a quick kiss on the lips (too quick for my tastes) before I regretfully climb off his lap to head downstairs to set the table for four. I stop in the doorway taking a few quick breaths to get my head back together. Josh isn't the only one who needs a couple minutes.

I start to go when I hear a big exhale from the other side of my bed.

"Cold showers. Angry nuns with rulers. Ice fishing. Oh Kat, you're killing me."

I bounce into the kitchen not even trying to hide the big smile on my face at his attempts at a mental visualization cool down.

After dinner, Dad sets up the fire pit on the back patio so we can roast some marshmallows. Stuffed and sitting around enjoying the fire, each of us is lost in our own thoughts on a mild February night in our winter coats and hats. Sitting on the patio couch next to Josh with my legs thrown over his lap snuggled up with his arm around my shoulders feels comfortable and right. Mom brings a blanket out draping it over us and gives me a kiss on the head, turns to Dad and said, "Come on Jim, let's head inside, and take a look at those taxes."

"I filed the taxes last week Sarah," my Dad folks, totally clueless.

"Then I will just to have think of something else to help you occupy your time," she told him.

The look on my Dad's face when he finally catches on to what Mom is saying is priceless, "Oh, right...the taxes. Uh, what about ..." he said sparing Josh and I a glance.

Mom just takes his hand and starts pulling Dad toward the house, "they'll be just fine honey. Josh saw you put your softball bag in the hallway closet before dinner. Let's go."

Josh and I both manage to hold our laughter in until they close the back door.

"Oh gosh. My parents folks, not at all subtle."

"I think it's cool how into each other they still are after 20 years," Josh said softly.

I sigh with contentment. It really is a beautiful winter night. Not bitterly cold, but the warmth of the fire pit feels good, though not as good as Josh's warmth I think as I snuggle up closer to him under the blanket.

"Easy there with the wiggling Kat, I'm only human you know," he warns me smiling.

"Really? I had no idea. Do you have some evidence of this?" I say working my way up onto his lap under the blanket.

It takes us all of five minutes before we figure out his 6ft tall self cannot stretch out comfortably on the 4ft long patio couch. I'm convinced my Mom figured that out ahead of time.

Another thirty minutes of kissing later, the fire pit has gone out, and I don't feel the slightest bit of the cold, but we both agree it's definitely time for Josh to take a long, cold walk back home.

By the end of February, play rehearsals are in full swing three days a week after school. Josh's ankle is getting better and his X-rays are clear. He has to keep doing physical therapy at home and if all goes well, he can rejoin the track team in the fall. He's relieved. I know that was stressing him out there for a while.

We try to spend as much time together as we can. I can't wait to see him before, during, and after school. The kissing is amazing of course, but I'm really happy just being with him.

Holding hands now in the hall between classes, at lunch (making Player threaten to vomit each day if we don't stop), and sneaking kisses during rehearsals all feels so normal and natural. When I'm not on stage he's taken to hiding in the folds of the heavy stage curtains and reaching out to grab me when I walk by pulling me in for some fast smooches. Once when I saw his shoes peaking out at the bottom, I pushed Jaxon in front of the curtains to get pulled inside in my place.

Poor Josh got a quick jab to the ribs from Jaxon and in retaliation, I got a tickle attack that almost made me wet my pants, and no kissing for the whole rest of the day as punishment.

Excessively harsh I thought, depriving me of his lips, but he was surprisingly self-disciplined, though his resolve looked like it was going to falter once when he was hammering a stage backdrop and I leaned down to whisper in his ear, "you sure about that no kissing? Even though Tuesday's are now officially purple thong day?"

He almost hit his thumb he was so rattled, and made up for lost time when he rescinded my punishment later.

I was on cloud nine, but the problems with clouds are that they're so easy to get knocked off of.

Chapter 14

Just before 6th period starts, I'm getting ready to open the stall door in the Drama department bathroom when I hear two people come in talking. I recognize one of the voices as Tiffani Sobhiani making me quickly duck into the stall and shut the door before she can see me.

"I can't wait for this stupid show to be finished already," she said.

"Aren't you having fun? I thought you liked the drama club?" the second voice asks.

"I do, it's just the people in it I can't stand. Do you see how they are all over each other all day? I swear to God that whole table is nothing but a bunch of whores."

I pull my feet up so they don't know I'm here and wonder what the hell has gotten her panties in a bunch this time? Who's she ripping into now?

"I don't know all of them really," the other voice said quietly, "I was mad at one of them at the beginning of the year but she's turned out to be ok I guess," the second voice said.

"Trust me, they're all a bunch of worthless skanks with their ringleader being the biggest slut. She goes after any guy with a backseat to offer," Tiffani said.

Neither voice has mentioned and specific names yet, but I'm starting to get a really sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The other person didn't get a chance to reply before Tiffani starts up again, "You know I thought Josh was going to be different and we were getting tight in 5th period history too when we were working on this PowerPoint project. I was really into him for a while until he took up with the lot of them, now they're all thicker than thieves," she practically spits out the words.

JOSH?

She can't be talking about my Josh? She was getting tight with him? WHEN?

"I wouldn't be surprised if that whore Laurel is doing him behind Katie's back. It would serve her right, the lying little bitch."

Before I can think, I bust out of the stall screaming, "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE YOU LYING BITCH! TAKE IT BACK!"

"What the hell are you doing in here?" she screams in alarm and fright.

"About to choke the living shit out of you with that cheap ass dollar store necklace if you don't take back every single filthy lie you just said about Laurel AND Josh!" I threaten, crossing to her in two steps. Even though I have never so much as thought of hitting another person in my whole life, somewhere in the dark part of my heart that everyone has, I know I am deadly serious. I can't think straight. I'm shaking so bad I can barely contain my rage.

The look on Cheerleader Barbie's face (the second voice) said she believes me, but my focused wrath is on Tiffani.

"I'm not kidding you lying bitch. RIGHT NOW! I start hearing the words or you're going to need a whole team of cosmetic surgeons when I'm done with you."

My voice is deadly calm and anyone with two active brain cells would comply immediately.

I may have caught her off guard, but the look she gives me now said she is not in shock anymore.

"Every word I said was the truth," she spits back at me, "Laurel is nothing but a two bit slut and Josh and I were a hot item until you came along, or didn't he tell you about our little date in his bedroom before Halloween? We had a great time going through his CDs. He has excellent taste in music; knew just the right songs to pick out before inviting me to his bed. Who would have thought such an old quilt would be so soft."

His grandmother's quilt. Her words cut through me like a serrated knife ripping into my guts.

The words Josh and Halloween coming from her mouth throw me for a second and my fury falters, but I make a fast recovery and lightning quick I swing my right arm out smacking her across the face leaving a perfect red outline of my hand. Son of a bitch that stings my palm. They don't show you that in the movies.

Cheerleader Barbie's screams mix with Tiffani's as I take a step closer to swing at her again, but this time my fingers curl into a fist. Tiffani tries to get out of the way but the sink is right behind her. The only option she has to avoid my swing is to lean her head back a little bit so my fist grazes her cheek but lands square in the middle of Barbie's nose as she tries to grab my arm to stop me.

Barbie screams again, in pain this time, just as a whole bunch of people burst through the bathroom door with Jaxon and Player at the front of the line.

They take about half a second to assess the fury on my face, the blood pouring out of Barbie's nose, and Tiffani cowering in the corner holding her cheek before they both jump into action racing over to me as I advance on Tiffani again.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT! TAKE IT BACK!" I scream as Player grabs me around the waist and lifts me off the ground trying to get me to the back of the bathroom.

"A LITTLE HELP HERE JAX!" he yells, his feet slipping as I struggle throwing him off balance trying to get at Tiffani again.

It takes both of them pushing me to get my back against the far wall and keep me there, one of them holding on each of my arms using their bodies to block me.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND! YOU INSANE BITCH! KEEP HER THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Tiffani screams as she pushes to get past everyone running out of the bathroom.

I watch people lead Barbie out. She has her head tilted back while someone holds a handful of toilet paper under her nose. All I can see is red. I can't breathe.

"Fuck me," Player said under his breath, "what the hell happened in here?"

"Kat? Kat? Where are you?" Josh breaks through everyone, sees the guys holding me, and comes running over, "what the hell is going on?"

"That's the thousand dollar question dude," Player quips letting go of my arm the same time as Jaxon does, "the heavyweight here just went Mike Tyson on Sobhiani's ass taking a Cheerleader out for good measure."

"Did you fuck her?" I yell at Josh. My blood is still boiling so badly that I cannot pull back as unreleased fury holds me tight in its grip.

"Whoa," Player said taking two steps back away from me pulling Jaxon with him by the back of his shirt. No one has ever heard me use words like this, or seen me this out of control. I have no idea where it all is coming from. I can't even imagine what they think, and right now I don't care. All I want is vengeance, and a release for my rage.

"What are you talking about? Who?" Josh said shocked and confused.

"Tiffani Sobhiani, that's who! She was in your bedroom, she knows about your grandmother's quilt! And your music! She said you invited her to your bed before Halloween!"

"Kat you need to calm down, take some of your deep breaths," he told me.

"Fuck my breathing, and Fuck You! You're not even denying it you two-timing piece of shit!" I scream and push past all of them running out of the bathroom. Down the halls. Out the front doors of the school.

I keep running until I get home to my room where I slam my door throwing myself on the bed screaming the last of my rage into my pillow until my throat hurts.

Hours later, my room is dark. I wake to the sound of soft knocking at my bedroom door.

"Katie, Laurel's here, she brought your backpack," Mom said.

Don't turn over.

Don't speak.

Stare at the back wall of my room. At this point, that's all I'm able to do.

I feel Laurel's weight shift my bed when she sits down. Then without a word, she lays down curling up next to me and puts her arms around me. She holds me while I start crying my eyes out until all my tears are gone and my skin is tight where their trails have dried on my cheeks.

After Laurel goes home, Mom and Dad bring me downstairs. Dad puts a bag of ice on my knuckles that are still red and tender. It never looks like it hurts when someone takes a swing in the movies. Stupid false advertising.

The three of us sit there quietly for the longest time before Mom finally said, "are you ready to tell us what happened Katherine?"

Crap. The formal first name. Not a good indicator of friendly territory but rather I am deeply entrenched in an enemy camp.

"Nope."

"Young lady you better come up with a better answer than that for your mother. Fighting, Katie? The principal said two other students were injured when you started a fight with them in the bathroom," Dad said his voice laced with shock.

"Help us out here Katherine. We need to understand so we can help you through this. What happened?"

Mom, ever the cool psychiatrist.

What do they want me to tell them? Oh, hey no biggie, just this total bitch insulted my best friend in the world and the guy that I'm crazy about had sex with that same bitch, no he didn't admit to it, but he didn't deny it right off the bat either.

"Sorry doc, don't feel like being head-shrinked right now," my Mom's gasp of shock does not even faze me. That is how far gone off the deep end I am.

They take away almost everything fun in my life (cell phone, iPod, laptop, TV privileges, and library card) until I decide to tell them the truth of what happened. Then they send me back up to my room, which is where I wanted to be in the first place.

The next day I ditch Laurel's pretty clothes for a pair of my old jeans and one of my Dad's old long sleeve baggy college shirts I hid in the back of my closet for emergencies. I figure having to return to school and face whatever humiliation is waiting for me should qualify as an emergency. I pull my hair into a messy ponytail, skip breakfast with the parents, and get to school to find out my little act of temporary insanity has burned through the entire student body like brushfire through a bone-dry forest.

No one is sorry for Tiffani; everyone hates her guts. It seems that in the last four years she has managed to insult or piss off every single person in the school, so, to everyone I'm practically a hero for that.

Cheerleader Barbie however, is a completely different story. Apparently, she is super sweet (although in my defense, they didn't see her dirty wish-I-had-a-flamethrower look she aimed at me last fall), and everyone wants to know what the hell happened in that bathroom. Barbie isn't talking, I'm only talking to my three best friends, and Tiffani's nowhere to be seen today. Rumor is she has taken an excused leave of absence from school; possibly, for the rest of the year. Though that last part is doubtful, it is a nice fantasy to ponder for a while.

For my 'indiscretion', I get a one day in school suspension that I serve in the conference room all day today. Meals will be brought at lunch and I am allowed no visitors and permitted to go to my locker for textbooks or supplies only with a school security staff member at my heels at all times. We have our own little student prison right here on campus.

I walk into the conference room at 7.12am to find Barbie sitting at the far end of the table.

WTH?

Her face registers the same surprise as mine when I walk in, "What are you doing here?" she asks me.

"Serving my one day in school suspension, front office secretary told me to come in here," I tell her.

"Oh, me too," she said squinting up her eyes trying not cry.

"What did you get suspended for? Not getting out of the way of my fist fast enough?" I say noticing the white bandage across the bridge of her nose. A twinge of guilt nags at the back of my conscience.

She looks down at her lap where her hands are fidgeting with the edge of her skirt.

When she speaks, I can barely hear her mumbled reply, "Tiffani told them I was the one who said all those ugly things about your friends, and they believed her." Barbie buries her face in her hands and starts crying.

Crap. Unfortunately, I know exactly what she's feeling...betrayal by someone you trusted.

I sigh before pulling out the chair next to her to sit and put my arm around her shoulder to pat her back, "It's ok. Shhh. It'll be ok. I'll happily punch her again for you if you want me to, just say the word," I tell her.

This gets a little grin from her along with a serious case of hiccups when she tries to say, "word" between sobs.

I give her a little smile and settle back in for my first long day of criminal confinement.

The first hour goes by so maddeningly slow. Constantly checking the clock every five minutes trying to count down how long I have left in this cage doesn't help make time move faster either.

The second hour I decide to crack a book, though not a textbook. Luckily, they didn't scope out my backpack too closely so I still have my Sylvia Plath. The Bell Jar might not be the best choice with a clinically depressed protagonist but it feels apropos for me today, and I love Plath's prose.

Barbie peaks up from her textbook and sees what I'm holding, "oh, I have been wanting to read that but it keeps getting checked out at the library. It was her only novel right?"

Well, color me impressed. Cheerleaders read? Who would have thought?

"Yeah, it was her only novel, it wasn't published here in the US until long after she'd died. It's kind of dark, but I tend to grab a book based on my mood and today isn't exactly a sunshine day," I over share.

"I know what you mean. It's not exactly one of my top ten greatest moments either." She winces lightly touching the bandage and I feel about a foot smaller.

We go back to quietly reading for a few minutes until I can't take it anymore, "I'm sorry. I...you know I wasn't aiming for you right?" I confess.

"Yeah, I'm just the collateral damage left in Hurricane Tiffani's path. Again. I just can't believe she lied to save her own ass." The hurt in her voice gains my instant sympathy.

"If it makes you feel better, my Dad said since my knuckles are still sore, I probably hit dental work."

"Thanks, it does actually." We share our first real smiles with each other. Bonding over a mutual dislike of a horrible human being, I'm sure there are worse foundations for new friendships.

The tightness in my shoulders beings to ease up until Barbie blows me blurting out, "I'm sorry for hating you at the beginning of the year. I never said anything ugly like Tiffani, but...I may have thought it."

"Why? What did I ever do to you?" I ask clueless.

She closes her book and just looks at me for a good solid minute before saying quietly, "Nothing on purpose really, I see that now, but the guy I have been in love with since the 9th grade was always leaving me to go talk to you."

Crap. She has the hots for Zach.

"Nothing ever happened you know. It was just this weird misunderstanding, sort of. He thought I was someone I wasn't, and once I came clean with him, he wasn't interested. He's totally not into me you know that right?" I try to explain.

"Yeah, I know. It just hurt for a while."

I ponder the possibilities of a successful jailbreak for the next hour before turning back to my cellmate.

"Hey Barbie, you know I have this brilliant friend who is absolutely the perfect person to help you bag and tag Zach before Prom if you're interested," I offer thinking of Laurel and her scheming superpower.

I take the huge smile that breaks out on her face as a yes, but then she gives me a little confused head tilt, "Barbie?"

Lunch used to be my favorite part of the day, food excluded of course, but the day after my suspension, my stomach is in knots as I head down to the cafeteria. He wouldn't dare show his face would he? It was my table first.

I breathe a sigh of relief as Laurel, Jaxon, and Player all look up with excitement on their face as if they've been waiting for me like a kid waits for his birthday present.

"There's our little heavyweight champ," Player said. They looked cozy with their heads bent close together I think, before he got up to shadowbox so I can sit between him and Laurel.

He gets my second real smile in two days. Am I feeling better?

"Ok, you know we're all DYING to hear what happened," Jaxon said. He is practically busting with anticipation.

Laurel gives my leg a quick squeeze under the table for encouragement and to tell me everything is going to be ok, though she wrinkled her nose when she saw me walk in to English this morning in jeans and one of my dad's old Sonic Youth concert t-shirts saying, "Two days of ponytail is enough already girlie."

I spilled my guts and told her everything yesterday after school so just the guys need some blanks filled in, but I'm not sure how to start, or if I want to.

I decide to give them a quick recap, not word-for-word, only how Tiffani insulted my friends, said she slept with my guy, and wouldn't take it all back. I drop my fork having suddenly lost my appetite rehashing the whole scene again. I don't want to think about it anymore, I feel sick to my stomach and tears are starting to pool at the corners of my eyes.

I do have to think about it again though because my world just came to a screaming halt.

"Are you freaking kidding me? Go find another table, this one's full," I tell Josh before he has a chance to sit down.

"No," he said deliberately dropping his tray, "we need to talk Kat."

"We don't have anything to talk about you two-timing reptile," I hiss.

Josh abruptly gives me a look of unsuppressed anger, "can we go somewhere and talk about this in private?" he said gritting his teeth.

"Not that I am in any way condoning this whole monogamy thing you've got going," Player said to Josh then turns to me, but is interrupted with Laurel's "HA!"

"Hush you," he told her then turns to look at me, "you know Sobhiani is a lying hose bag right? Ever consider the fact that she's not exactly being truthful?"

"If she wasn't, then she must be psychic because she knew an awful lot of details about your bedroom," I say looking straight into Josh's now flashing eyes.

"Can we talk about this in private?" Josh asks me as his cheeks slowly turn from pink to red.

"No, we can talk about it right here. We talk about everything together. We don't have any secrets."

"Well, I don't know

....I wouldn't exactly say that...

....that's not always true Katie..."

Jaxon, Laurel, and Player all talk at the same time. Huh?

"Well that's not how I am. I prefer private conversations, about private things, to be said in private Kat," he told me before getting up and walking away.

We don't say another word to each other in Math and he's nowhere to be found in the halls.

Thankfully, I'm spared seeing him again until rehearsals later after school when Player is standing in for Jaxon during one of our scenes. Right before Player bends me backward pretending to lean down to kiss me, Josh 'accidentally' knocks over a metal ladder with a loud crash that echoes off the walls bringing the entire dress rehearsal to a silent stand still.

"Sorry," he said. If sarcasm needed another name, we could call it Josh.

Chapter 15

I'm in the kitchen writing out an essay (by hand! still no laptop privileges a week later, not even for homework) when there's a knock at the front door.

"Get lost!" I tell him trying to slam the door in his face.

"Kat stop it. Why won't you talk to me? This is getting ridiculous," he said pushing his way in.

"DUH? You slept with the biggest bitch in the school and didn't bother to mention it!"

"How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?" he said.

I take a step back in shock, "did you just call me stupid?"

"Yes, because that's exactly what you're being right now. C'mon Kat, you can't seriously think that I did anything with that girl do you?"

"You didn't deny it, and you still haven't!" I yell at him stalking back to the kitchen. I will not cry. I refuse to cry in front of him. I'm trying to hold onto my anger, channel it.

He knew just the right songs to pick out before inviting me to his bed.

That stupid cow's voice is bouncing around inside my head.

"I shouldn't have to!" he yells back, hot on my heels.

Before I can make it back to the counter, he's behind me grabbing my shoulders turning me to face him, "Kat you know me. You have to know I would never do that to anyone, especially you," his voice is dangerously low.

I try to pull away but he just grabs me into a hug holding me even tighter. I can feel hot tears start to slide down my face. I want to believe him. I'm desperate to, but I need to hear the words. Why would he not be screaming his innocence from the second I accused him? If it was me I would.

"Did you sleep with her?" I sob against his chest.

He whispers, "Kat, how can you ask me that, after all we've been through this year?"

I push hard against his chest and tear up the stairs to my room slamming my bedroom door clicking the lock.

Why won't he just answer the question?

Mom knocks on my door a couple hours later with a plate of food. I unlock the door and head back to my bed and feel her sit down next to me a moment later.

"Katie, honey, is everything ok?" No doctor voice this time, just worried Mom. Somehow, that feels worse.

"It's all just...so screwed up, and I don't know what to do anymore," I tell her trying to sniff back a fresh batch of tears.

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry for what you're going through, and....for earlier. I didn't mean to treat you like a patient. You're my daughter and we were just so stunned to get that call from school. I never would have imagined in a million years that you'd get into a fight."

The silence is deafening between us with her sitting their stroking my hair.

"Laurel's mom called. She told her Mom that you were protecting her? Something about a girl who was calling her names? Is that true?" she asks.

I can only nod my head. How much did Laurel tell? I'm pretty sure she wouldn't tell her Mom the part about Josh.

Mom sighs, "I'm proud of you for standing up for your friend. I know that's not always an easy thing to do, but...you know you can't go around picking fights with people right? Violence is never the answer honey." I hear that doctor voice creeping in again, and maybe so does she because she stops caressing my hair and pats my arm.

"Daddy and I have decided you can have your things back. We know you're a good girl and trust you to exercise better judgment in the future ok?"

I nod again, but when she starts to get up off my bed I sit up twisting around to throw my arms around her neck and start crying fresh tears.

"Oh baby," she murmurs as I my waterworks start all over again, "it'll get better, I promise." She gives me a hug and puts me back to bed.

Sometime later, I hear my door open and feel someone kiss me on the forehead. I open my eyes a sliver to see my Dad pick up my untouched dinner plate and quietly close the door.

The next couple of weeks are the most miserable of my life.

Josh doesn't sit with us anymore at lunch, or with Jaxon and me in math class. He moved his seat in Algebra to the front row. We don't make eye contact in class, but, against my will, I find myself staring at the back of his head sometimes remembering what it feels like to run my fingers through his hair. I watching him lean over to the girl next to him, laughing at something she said, and anger and pain and jealousy coil around and around in my stomach. Our break up does not seem to be bothering him one little bit.

Fine.

To hell with him.

The play is only a week away now and everyone is so busy it's easy to avoid each other at rehearsals after school, but the one thing I can't get away from is my constant anger and resentment. Not even when I catch sight of Tiffani walking up to him gesturing to the back of her costume for help, and he just walks away from her giving her a hateful look saying something that makes her face instantly turn fire engine red.

Jaxon is staying late in English making up a quiz he missed last week when he went home sick, so he's not here for dress rehearsal. My head snaps up when I hear Mrs. G tell Josh to get up on stage to stand in for Jaxon so I can rehearse.

We have not traded so much as a single word to each other in weeks, much less even looked at each other. In this scene, the dancing girls are sitting on the guys' laps. I can practically hear Laurel's voice in my head...ahhh, sweet revenge is only moments within reach. This is going to be good.

"But, Mrs. G., I'm not an actor. I'm on the set building crew," he said.

"You don't need to act Mr. Dawson, I just need a body so we can finish the front row choreography with the first set of dancers for our final dress rehearsal. Now go sit down in the chair Miss O'Connell is standing next to at rear stage," she barks, "Miss O'Connell, Miss Foster, and Mr. Chapman, I want you to stay in character no matter what for the next 15 minutes as we stop and start the music to get this sequence right."

Josh looks up at me for the first time in weeks, and I pat the seat of the chair with my hand doing my best impression of his trademark smirk and cocking eyebrow. As he climbs the few steps from the pit to the stage, he looks so scared and wary like he's walking to the gallows. Everyone else around us in the auditorium is going about their business, but not one of them has any clue the battle of wills that is about to be waged.

Or, how vindictive I'm about to be...

He walks past me to sit down slowly on the chair clearing his throat.

Watching a few of our rehearsals for this scene already, he knows what's coming. At least he thinks he does. Jaxon and I usually goof off tickling each other and end up laughing hysterically until Mrs. G. yells at us to, 'get serious there is no giggling in theater'.

I have other plans in mind for Josh.

Under his breath he said the first words he has since that afternoon at my house when he wouldn't answer my question directly, "play nice Kat."

Though the next nearest couple is at a table about 20 feet up stage and the other is off stage right about another 40 feet, there's really no one close enough to hear his warnings.

A quiet, evil little laugh starts to build in the back of my throat and I see him grab onto the seat of the chair to sit up straighter.

The bar room piano music starts and the front row teams begin dancing. I proceed to take the slowest, most seductive circular walk around his chair that I can letting my hand drag a long, slow stroke up his arm, dipping down over his chest and back up across his shoulders.

Josh exhales a long slow breath through his lips. It's been almost a month since we've had any physical contact.

My fingertips play with the curls at the base of his neck before they softly graze the bottom of his ear, down his neck coming to rest on his shoulder.

Josh closes his eyes and starts to moan soft and low, but turns the sound into clearing his throat again trying to cover it.

I have you now.

I feel like a cat playing with a mouse. It should probably bother me how much I'm enjoying torturing him. However, after all the crap that he's pulled lately, it doesn't. Not even one little bit.

He grits his teeth and his lips barely move when he warns me softly under his breath, "careful Kat, you're not the only one who can play this game."

I muster the most innocent look I can as I come around to stand between his legs with both my hands on his shoulders and tell him, "I have no idea what you're talking about Josh. I'm just rehearsing for my part."

He opens his eyes narrowing them to look at me and said, "I'll just bet you are."

Seeing how dark green his eyes are becoming, flashing with desire makes me hesitate and rethink my plan for a second.

When I finally lower myself to sit down on his lap I swing both my legs to one side and adjust the old-fashioned bustier that's smashing my boobs together so bad they're both about to pop out the top. The movement makes Josh look down just as I planned; sucking in his breath and slowly blowing it back out again through his lips before looking away told me my plan is working perfectly, but guilt starts creeping into my feeling of victory.

Suddenly, I'm enveloped in the scent of cinnamon and it firms my resolve.

Deciding I have come too far to back down now, I wiggle my butt ever so slightly on his lap trying to get comfortable while my fingers gently play with the back of his hair.

Yep. I'm starting to feel the results of my efforts distinctly against the back of my legs.

He's about to break out in a cold sweat from concentrating so hard to sit still and not moan as I fluff out all the layers of crinoline on my skirt making my costume all poufy so that it completely covers my lap and his.

He starts bouncing his right leg up and down and it jostles me a little on his lap.

Getting a little nervous, Josh?

The stage direction in my script said Floozy #5 (me) pulls in close to Bar Patron #5 (Jaxon/Josh) neck pretending to kiss, block audience view with long wig. My hair is down and loose so the blocking is no trouble but I have my own plans for the pretending part.

My right arm is still draped around his shoulders but I turn my body a little bit to lean against his chest and gently nuzzle his neck with my lips working my way up his neck to nibble and suck on the bottom of his ear. I can feel the pulse in his neck beat faster under my lips and my own breath starts to come faster in time with it. I suck harder on a single tender spot near his collarbone. That's definitely going to leave a mark.

It's also the last thing Josh's self-control can take.

His left hand grabs around my waist pulling my hip into his hip hard, while his right hand darts under my costume to grab onto my bare left leg just above my knee.

I wasn't expecting his lightning fast reflexes and I'm so shocked to feel his hand on my bare thigh I give a little muffled squeak against his neck nearly jumping off his lap but he just grips me tighter with both hands to keep me still.

His strained voice draws out in a hiss that sounds almost like a half exhale/half plea, "Kaaat."

We're both breathing hard and fast now, I open my eyes to see the rest of the world is going on per usual with actors and stage hands all milling around as if the world didn't just spin out of control. I shut my eyes tight again.

"Kat. Stop. This. Now."

At this point, I couldn't even if I wanted to. I'm drunk on the power of making his body react to my touch and his palm must be leaving a burn mark on my leg it feels so hot. Need quickly replaces vengeance.

"MISS O'CONNELL! NAP ON YOUR OWN TIME! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A BAR ROOM FLOOZY. START DANCING! DO SOMETHING! MISS FOSTER! IF I CAN'T SEE YOU THE AUDIENCE CAN'T SEE YOU!" Mrs. G. barks out at us over the music.

Josh's arms drop and I jump up to my feet at the teacher's command going on autopilot from two months of rehearsals. I throw my arms up in the air, shaking my bustle in time to the music (right in front of Josh's face) then one high kick forward, spin on my heels and another high kick up and over his head to come sitting back down on his lap straddling him grabbing onto his shoulders to keep from falling.

This is usually where Jaxon grabs my waist and starts tickling me trying to get me in trouble.

But Jaxon isn't here and neither Josh nor I are laughing. His deep green eyes are darkened with so much raw desire, they look almost black, and my breath is trapped in my lungs.

"Kat don't. I'm not kidding. Stop," he growls.

I dig my fingers into his shoulders throwing my head back shaking my hair back and forth like Floozy #4 is doing on the other side of the stage. Unfortunately, the motion pushes me against his obvious arousal too.

Is it any wonder Floozy #4 and Bar Patron #4 have been dating since rehearsals started in February? Although I have never once even remotely had this problem with Jaxon in all our times practicing this scene the past two months.

A low groan escapes from the back of Josh's throat as I bring my head up to look him in the eye and silently mouth a single word.

No.

His half-closed eyes go wild and both of his eyebrows shoot up.

My face is hovering about an inch above his looking down at him blocking his view of everything except my face. I mentally challenge him to do something. Say something.

He takes my dare grabbing onto my bare knees again under my costume and he starts working his hands up and up kneading my legs with his fingers inch-by excruciating-inch.

A gasp escapes my mouth as I start chewing on my bottom lip and Josh's mouth falls open.

My game of revenge has now turned to a fierce competition for power (and passion) to see which one of us will chicken out and stop the other one first.

If you take a liberal dose of anger, desire, and a competitive nature, mix it with a stubborn streak a mile wide you'd have the two most destructively volatile stares in history going on right now. I swear if anything passed between our stare it would instantaneously combust and burst into flames.

I whimper when his thumbs reach the edge of my bikini underwear and start to explore under the edge of the seam.

"Oh God, Kat," he gets out through gritted teeth.

I hear the desperation in his voice and freak. Caving first, I push too hard to get away from his body in a blind panic falling backwards off his lap until my ass lands on the hard stage.

That's going to leave a mark too.

My legs are bent at the knees and I'm resting on my palms, and my now bruised backside, gasping for air watching Josh's lungs attempt to do the same as his chest rises and falls in time with mine.

"EXCELLENT COMEDIC IMPROVISATION MISS O'CONNELL. PLAN ON PRACTICING THAT WITH JAXON AND WE'LL KEEP THAT FOR THE FINAL PERFORMANCE."

Sure. Whatever you say Mrs. G. because my mind has just short-circuited.

Minutes later when I pick myself up off the stage, I'm shaky but able to stand.

I immediately realize I didn't completely lose our battle of wills when I watch Josh try to stand up and promptly sit right back down.

I let out a small victory laugh as he turns his head slightly stage left to mouth the words son of a bitch while shaking his head.

At least I can walk away. Josh is going to need a couple of minutes to recover.

Ah, it truly is good to be a girl sometimes.

"ALL RIGHT EVERYONE. THAT'S A WRAP. GO HOME, TAKE TOMORROW NIGHT OFF AND I'LL SEE EVERYONE BACK HERE AT 5PM ON THE DOT FRIDAY FOR OPENING NIGHT'S CURTAIN CALL AT 7PM. MAKE SURE ALL YOUR COSTUMES AND PROPS ARE LABELED BEFORE YOU PUT THEM BACK." Mrs. G. told us before heading back to her office.

I practically run to the girls changing room to get out of my costume and need to dunk my entire head under the faucet to cool off. I have regained some semblance of sanity after about 50 Zen deep breaths and a handful of wet paper towels on the back of my neck.

When I come out of the dressing room, Jaxon waves to me from the other end of the hallway.

We're standing there joking and laughing about the new choreography he saw at the end of our scene and whether or not I'll be able to sit down without wincing for a while, when he pokes me in the ribs with his finger playfully and said, "I also caught the little performance you and Josh were giving just before that. Why have you never rehearsed like that with me?

I swallow hard. I can't believe I got so carried away with my revenge that I didn't think someone might be watching.

I try to be flip about it, "too bad the performance is past. Now you'll have to die wondering about the blissful experience that kissing me truly is."

"Maybe not. How about a private show right now?" he said leaning in, "No one's around. I could show you Eli's secret to an award winning pucker."

If there were ever a look to go with the word mischievous, Jaxon's face right now would be next to it in the dictionary.

"Jaxon you are an incurable heartbreaker. I'm not falling for your charms."

"Aren't even curious how I compare to all your other guys?"

Guys? Plural?

"What do you mean 'other guys'?" I ask.

All playfulness is gone and I'm in full on serious mode. It's not exactly flattering to hear a friend insinuate he thinks you're playing fast and loose with more than one guy in school at the same time. Is that what people think I'm doing?

"The Brit last fall? The football guy? Eli? Josh? I have seen you hanging out with all of them at different times this year getting very friendly. You're becoming an excellent student of Laurel's training," he laughs.

Is that what I'm doing?

I have never had a problem with Laurel kissing multiple guys. I know who she really is and that she's nice, but hearing someone talk about me like that now and remembering what Tiffani said in the bathroom is turning my stomach.

"Knock it off Jaxon," I push him away. Hard.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Katie I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. You know I say stupid shit all the time. I'm just joking around with you. I know you and Laurel aren't really like that. We just kid each other that's all. It was stupid. I'm sorry."

I'm trying so hard not to cry. If he doesn't shut up I swear I'm going to crack him in the family jewels, but then I sniffle and start to lose it.

"Oh shit. Don't cry. I'm sorry Katie. Could I be a bigger asshole?"

I start speed walking for the front doors around the corner, "I have to go."

Barely 10 seconds pass when I hear angry shouts behind me.

"What the hell did you do?"

"What's your problem?"

"You! You're my problem."

"Get the hell off me."

"Stay away from her!"

"Fuck you! You don't tell me what to do. Who do you think you are? I've known her forever."

"Not as long as I have!"

I run back to find Jaxon and Josh pushing and shoving each other off the walls, one of them trying to grab the other in a headlock.

"KNOCK IT OFF! BOTH OF YOU! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" I scream at them.

They break apart fast both of them looking at me like a couple of wild animals.

"He started it!" Jaxon said pointing at Josh.

"I'll finish it too!" Josh snaps back at him.

"You're both being idiots. Are you TRYING to get suspended?"

"TELL HIM! Tell him you've known me longer Kat and that makes you more mine than his. Tell him." Josh demands.

"What are you talking about?" I have no idea what's going on right now and his words shock me to the core. We've been acting like we hate each other all month and now to hear him say I'm his is just.... Is this some new kind of new guy-puberty thing? Are they both losing their minds? Am I?

"I have known you for eight years, which means you've been my friend longer. Tell him," he said again.

Jaxon nearly spits on him. I have never seen him so mad. "You've been around for barely six months and caused her nothing but grief! I have been her friend for the last five years. No way she's more your friend than mine!"

"I have no idea what's going on, but you both sound like complete idiots. I'm friends with BOTH of you, at least for the moment. It doesn't matter for how long."

Josh stares at me with hurt and anger in his eyes, before he turns on his heel to storm off toward the stage door.

"What the hell was that?" I ask Jaxon.

"I have no idea. Why don't you ask him?" he said grabbing his backpack pushing past me.

Excellent idea I think as I head after him.

When I come around the stage curtain to head backstage, Mrs. G. nearly smacks me in the head with that humongous tote bag she's been carrying around since forever. I dodge left at the last second as she swings around to yell backstage. "Turn the lights out when you leave Mr. Dawson. Oh, Miss O'Connell. You startled me. I did not see you standing there. Be sure Mr. Dawson turns off all the lights and locks the back doors won't you? The main electrical switch is there just on the wall behind you." She doesn't wait for a response before simply walking away. Teachers are such weird creatures sometimes.

Crossing the stage, I can already tell he's still mad. The play props aren't banging themselves around in the closet.

Good. Well, I'm mad too. He can't go around picking fights with guys who're just talking to me. Who does he think he is? He threatens my friends, yells at me, and then storms off without another word? I don't think so, mister.

I find him in the back of the prop room stacking up the soup cans from Act II.

He practically barks at me from the behind the storage shelves when he sees me in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?"

"About to have a big fight, in private, with you. In case you're still as clueless as you seem to have been lately."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Just get out of here already I have work to do."

I make a show of deliberately dumping my backpack and my purse off to the side next to a huge pile of costume fabrics in the corner and put my hands on my hips to show him I'm not going anywhere. No running this time.

"You can't just go around grabbing people and threatening to punch them for no reason Josh."

"I didn't! Is that who you think I am? I'm not a bully. I had a damn good reason. What was your excuse?"

"So you say. Jaxon didn't do anything wrong. He's allowed to talk to me. What is with you lately anyway?"

I'm shaking my head because I seriously have no clue what is going on with him. One minute he's sweet and funny at my house, kissing me at home, kissing me in the hallways at school, and the next minute he won't answer one simple question and he's going ballistic on my friends.

Is there such a thing as PMS for guys?

"Didn't do anything wrong? Didn't do...God, and you call ME clueless."

Bang goes another can. Bang. Bang. He has to run out of cans eventually right? I hope before my migraine kicks in.

"Josh will you stop for one damn minute and talk to me. I don't understand everything that's happened between us, but you said you were trying to be better. A clean slate, remember?"

My voice slips a little at the end. If he makes me cry I'm going to grab that foam bat in the corner and do my best to pretend he's a piñata.

"I am. It's not you. It is, but it's not." He sounds so frustrated when he talks gritting his teeth like that standing there gripping the edge of the shelf. He's a little scary. Not that I think he would ever hurt me. Not for a second, but...this Josh and the one I just saw fighting in the hallway...is a whole new animal to me, one on the verge of losing his grip on his temper. I'm the one who's supposed to be a hothead, not him.

He's doing that tiger-pacing thing again dragging his hands through his hair but there's not a lot of space in this tiny storage room. I step over the mountain of fabric to lean against an empty spot along the wall. I cross my arms in front of me and bite my bottom lip while I try to think. Maybe if I give him some more space to move and burn off his mad we can talk. Is his brain racing a mile a minute arguing with itself like mine does?

The anger in his voice shocks me back from my wondering as he stalks straight toward me, "I didn't sleep with that bitch Tiffani Ok? I have never slept with anyone! You're the only girl I have ever even kissed for Christ's sake! You just...you have no idea Kat. You're one of the smartest people I know. How can you be so stubborn and stupid sometimes and not have any idea what you do?"

He didn't sleep with Tiffani. He finally said it. I have known for a while, probably from the start if I can bring myself to admit it, but I still needed to hear him say it. I'm the only one he's ever kissed? My emotions are spiraling out of control "What are you babbling about now? What do I do?" I throw back at him.

"Just YOU. BEING YOU....ALL THE TIME. You're doing it right now, standing there chewing on your lip. It's very frustrating," he said gesturing at all of me, from the top of my head to my toes in big sweeping circles in front of my face.

He's a raving lunatic!

I smack his hands away, and he balls them up into fists at his sides, growls and stomps back over to the shelves. Scared, confused, or mad, doesn't matter anymore. Now he's just pissing me off. You don't walk away from me twice mister. Not after that little declaration AND calling me stupid again. We are so not done yet.

"Stop pointing at me and mumbling, you idiot. Are you high? What is wrong with you? You're not making any sense."

Without any warning there's a loud bang like a door slam or something and the room is plunged into complete darkness. I can't see my hand in front of my face.

Great. Probably a building custodian thought we forgot and left the lights on and he turned them out. We're alone in the dark. Again.

I try to find my way back to the door and send one of his recently stacked towers crashing to the floor to my right. When the metal clattering stops, I'm sure there's cans all over the place but I can't even see my feet. If I try to take a step I'm probably going to trip and break my neck. Not that he'll care.

"Don't you have the flashlight app on your phone?" he asks me. Apparently, I'm not the only master of snark in this pitch-black room.

"Yes, I have the flashlight app on my phone."

Ok, throwing the mocking whiny high-pitched baby voice back at him may have been juvenile, but I was steamed and my temper was getting hotter by the minute. "But my phone is buried at the bottom of my backpack which is somewhere over there by the door. I can't see my hand in front of my face much less how to get over to it."

Complete silence fills the room for a minute then I hear him sigh in the dark. "Stay put. I'll come to you with mine so you can find your footing before you knock something else down."

A second later, I see his face bathed in blue light about five feet away from where I'm at against the wall before he points his phone down and his face is swallowed by the dark again.

"You know sometimes I wonder if you're more trouble than you're worth," he said shining the light on the floor so he can see where to safely step to get to me. His feet are kicking cans out of the way left and right.

"Nice. That's really nice Josh. Way to be a total ass."

"Well, it's true," he snaps back at me. He stops only a step away with the blue light surrounding our legs lighting up the floor and our feet. "I swear I don't know what to do with you sometimes."

He lets out another big sigh before he holds out his free hand to steady me. I take it, but grudgingly.

"What am I going to do with you Kat?"

He sounds genuinely perplexed, but the soft blue light is shining on my shoes now and I can't see his face. It's still lost in the dark. Without warning, my mind flashes back to Halloween, and another dark room.

"What do you want to do with me?"

What the hell Katie? Brain doesn't get a chance to answer because Josh pulls me away from the wall and into his arms dropping his phone in the process. It must have landed light side down because its pitch black everywhere and I can only feel my heart start pounding as his arms lock around me, his hot breath against my ear.

"I want to do a thousand different things to you, with you, and they all start with acting like a caveman and dragging you off, locking you far away where no other guys can ever talk to you or touch you ever again."

The ferocious, possessive tone in his voice shocks me to my core and thrills me in a way I never dreamed it could. Without thinking, I reach up grabbing his face with both hands to pull his lips down to mine more roughly than I ever believed I would.

I'm wound up tighter than a coil from our fight and everything that's happened, but all I can think of is how desperate I am to taste him again. To touch him again. It's been so long. That thirst for more is overwhelming.

I must have surprised the hell out of him because he doesn't immediately react while I'm viciously attacking his mouth with my lips. A half second later, he's pushing me back against the wall, tangling his fingers in my hair, tilting our heads to deepen the kiss. I can't tell which one of us is moaning now. I can barely stand it. My mind and body are both exploding into a billion fireworks all at the same time.

I feel bold and reckless just like on Halloween, but now I'm also determined as I slowly slide down the wall dragging him down on top of me into the pile of fabrics on the floor next to us.

If I thought I was exploding before, the feeling of having Josh's full weight pressing me back into the pile with the whole length of his body is driving me out of my mind. Chest to chest, hip to hip, I throw one of my legs over the back of his pulling our bodies together even tighter.

"Kat what are we doing?" he mumbles against my lips.

"Shut up Josh. We're making up," I murmur back breathless letting my hands tug his t-shirt out of his pants so I can explore his back and dip under the waist band at the back of his pants.

He responds with a strangled groan deep in his throat and attacks my neck leaving a trail of fire as he nips, kisses, and sucks his way down my throat to the few buttons holding the front of my shirt together. He starts to hesitate but I don't give him time to think lifting his head to find his lips over and over as I grab his butt pulling him hard against me until he's moaning and as dizzy and reckless as I am. He fumbles with the buttons in the dark but still manages to undo them in record time and I hear him suck in his breath as both sides of my shirt fall away.

Hellloooo bra-less Wednesday.

Another split second later his mouth and hands are places I have never thought of any other guy being anywhere near. I instinctively arch my back to meet him raking my fingers down his stomach stopping only to undo the snap at his jeans. I need more of him.

"Josh...Josh....Josh," I can't stop moaning his name. I want so much from him right now and I reach down.

He brings his mouth up to mine whispering, "oh Kat. My Kat. My beautiful, beautiful Kat," this is what heaven feels like I start to think, but then his lips are gone.

"Wait. Oh God Kat, Kat wait...I can't... I can't think straight when you're...we have to...stop....we can't..."

He moves my hands from his jeans and his butt, pinning both my wrists above my head with his right hand as he starts to gently kiss my neck and stroke my hair with his left hand. I have never had so much as a drop of alcohol to drink, but I feel drunk on him: his smells, his touch, his taste. All of it together is making my head spin.

Breathing now is harder with him on top of me. He must sense it as he shifts his weight to his right hip laying along my side but still holding my wrists in his one hand. I try to tug my hands free but he just holds them tighter.

"Uh uh. I don't think.... I don't think that's such a great idea," he whispers.

His ragged breathing is starting to slow down as he rests his head against mine before sitting up a little to pull my top back together with his free hand.

We hear an unexpected click in the darkness right before the overhead lights all flare on in a single flash. I have to blink my eyes a few times against the blinding glare. When I find Josh's face, there's so much raw desire and emotion there I instinctively try to roll over to be near him again. At that second, I have no other thought in my head and nothing exists in my world except wanting to get closer to him, but his hand on my hip keeps space between our bodies.

He opens his mouth to say something but freezes when we hear, "KATIE? KATIE, ARE YOU BACK THERE? I'M YOUR RIDE HOME TONIGHT REMEMBER?"

Oh sweet Jesus, it's Laurel. I can hear her heels tap tap tapping across the wooden stage.

A microsecond later, we break apart to opposite sides of the room getting re-dressed with our backs to each other. I hear him zip his jeans and a shudder of lightning runs through me from my neck right down to my toes making me lightheaded all over again. I grab my backpack from the corner at the same moment Laurel walks through the door.

"There you are," she said all perky until she takes one look at my flushed face, then looks at Josh, then back at me.

"We better get going. It's getting late. Mom doesn't like me to drive after it gets dark," she said turning on her heel to leave.

I throw my backpack over my shoulder. My whole body is still throbbing for him. I am positively humming.

I want to know what he was going to say before we heard Laurel call for me.

I want to ask him why he stopped us. I want...I don't know what I want.

It takes every ounce of strength I have left in me to turn my head to look at him. For the first time I can remember, I can't read what I see on his face.

I don't know how I feel either.

When I catch up to Laurel crossing the stage I'm not sure what she must think of me. How much does she guess about what just happened in that room? In true BFF style, she simply hooks her arm around my waist and said, "your shirt buttons are crooked."

I don't get much sleep that night, or the next. Josh doesn't call or text me for the next two days. He doesn't come back to our lunch table on Thursday or Friday either. He stays in his new seat in Algebra, the one near the door and races out of class before I can even get out of my seat.

He's avoiding me big time.

My brain is working overtime. Is he embarrassed? Is he ashamed? What kind of girl does he think I am now? Should I feel ashamed about what happened?

I think a lot about that last one. The short answer is...I don't. I wanted to be with him and I don't think I did anything wrong. After I have had enough time to process it all from every angle possible (thanks overactive brain), my feelings were natural. I'm kind of glad he did have enough common sense to slow us down before it got any farther, I didn't have any protection or anything with me, but I don't think I would have any huge regrets if we went all the way that afternoon. It's not like I'm sleeping around, or have a different guy I'm hooking up with every night of the week.

There's only ever been Josh who makes me feel on fire and so out of control that I'm desperate to be closer to him, and I think that means something important but I'm afraid to think too hard about what that might be.

Still lost in these thoughts Friday before getting ready to head up to the school for the show, I absentmindedly pick up my phone to send a text.

Josh?

I wait a few minutes, but, no reply.

Backstage is a madhouse with people running around everywhere borrowing makeup and checking props while stage crew are running lighting and microphone cables, putting fresh tape down to mark our positions on the stage.

I'm dressed and sitting in front of the makeup mirror in the dressing room a little dazed.

The show goes off without a hitch and I do have a lot of fun partnering with Jaxon for our scenes, though not the kind of fun Josh and I had just a couple nights before.

The cast takes our bows, the curtain falls and we all yell before dispersing to find out families and friends. I meet my Mom and Dad outside the theater with roses. There are lots of hugs and pictures and so much praise that I'm blushing slightly under all my pancake stage makeup when I see Josh walking toward us.

"Hey," he said with a hesitant smile, "you were...amazing. I got these for you," he said handing me a bouquet.

My Mom gasps, "oh Josh, they're just beautiful, they look so exotic what are they?"

"Hibiscus. My favorite flower," I answer, "how did you..."

"You better go hurry and get changed so we can get these flowers home and into some water," Mom said shooing me off.

When I return with my face freshly scrubbed, Josh is still standing there with my parents.

"We're going to give Josh a ride home honey since it's raining, so let's get your things into the car quick, ok?"

Great. I get to sit in the backseat with a guy who I got freaky hooking up with two days ago, who hasn't talked me to since, with both of my parents in the front seat.

How could this possibly be the most awkward 10-minute drive of my life at all?

When Dad pulls the car around we hop in fast to get out of the rain. Josh and I sit far apart in the back seat of Dad's SUV. I'm already exhausted from the night's show but I'm so tense being only a foot away from Josh that I don't know what do to with myself. The parking lot is packed, plus it's raining heavy so we pretty much just sit there as all the other drivers try to figure out how to get out of the parking lot safely without turning it into one massive game of bumper cars. Up front, Mom and Dad start discussing the best ways to navigate our way out of the mess.

I can't take the tense silence anymore, "were you able to see the whole show?" I quietly ask him.

He turns a little toward me, "yeah, it was great. It was really cool seeing all the stuff we built and how it looked from the audience."

"Good." Ugh. How much do I suck at small talk?

"I didn't know you were coming tonight."

His voice goes a little lower, "I promised you I'd be there for your opening night. No matter what," I hear him take in a shaky breath, "your portraits looked incredible up there. Almost as good as you did."

"Thanks," I smile.

"It worked you keeping the fall at the end of Act II. The audience thought it was hilarious. You'll have even more fans at school on Monday."

I feel my face burn a little bit at the mention of the fall on my backside in the bar scene and remembering how it came to be makes me grateful for the relative darkness of the car.

"There's only one fan I care about at school," I say before I can stop myself hearing my voice catch as I sit there desperately trying to hold all my feelings inside and not cry.

"Kat," Josh said reaching across the seat to grab my hand. I squeeze back hard. As the tears start to leave a trail down my face he pulls me across the seat as much as the seatbelt allows putting his arm around my shoulder and whispers, "we'll figure it out Kat. I promise."

When we get to Josh's house, he gives me a small kiss on the cheek before climbing out of the car.

When I get home, I head straight upstairs and fall into bed exhausted. I have never been this tired or felt this spent in my entire life.

The buzz on my phone makes my stomach knot up. I hesitate for a second before I reach for it, unlike in the past when I have hoped it was Josh and practically dropped everything scrambling to pick it up.

When I hesitate, it buzzes again letting me know I still have an unread message waiting.

It's from Josh.

You really were amazing Kat. I'm so proud of you. Sweet dreams. dwb

dwb

Don't write back.

Saturday, last show then the cast party.

Deep breath Katie.

Can't get Josh on the phone. He's not answering his cell or his texts. I spend the afternoon trying to relax until we leave for the show at 7pm, but I stay in my room to read; without him the fort is just a lonely place to me filled with too much quiet and too many painful memories.

The show goes beautifully that night with everyone clapping and laughing in the right places, we take our final bows then pile into cars to caravan to the cast party at a student's house nearby.

Climbing down the stairs, I head to the finished basement and let out a low whistle when I catch sight of it. Amy Tran's mom must be one hell of a caterer because their house looked big from the outside, but their finished basement is unbelievable. It looks as big as a football field with a pool table at one end, a home gym full of some seriously scary looking exercise equipment, and two hallways at one end with lots of doors.

I step into the main part of the room to find a bunch of people already there getting settled and several more right behind me.

Amy's mom has laid out three long tables end-to-end along one wall with every square inch piled high with food that's making my mouth water as the scents drift over. Wow. I'll bet Dad would love to corner her for some recipes for one of his Superbowl Sunday parties.

Speaking of football, Zach and Stacy (Cheerleader Barbie's real name) are already cuddling in a corner.

I smile to myself. Leave it to Laurel to move faster than greased lightning.

Though you would NEVER get me to admit it aloud, they really do look cute together, and very happy. She's on his lap rubbing her arms as he puts his letterman jacket around her shoulders, she peeks up and sees me. I give her a tentative smile possibly expecting another flamethrower wish look, or one of triumphant victory, but to my total shock, all I get is a shy wave and a huge dazzling smile with not even a hint of anything ugly. She looks positively ecstatic, and suddenly I'm really happy for both of them.

I can't stop myself from a quick little jealous pity party though, what about me?

I try to call Josh's cell phone at 10pm after I grab a plate of the most insanely delicious food I have ever had (sorry Dad) and rehash the show with a few of the girls from the chorus. I want to ask Josh to come to the party so we can talk. On the third ring, a giggly girl answers his cell phone. I'm so shocked for a second, I don't know what to say.

Did I misdial? Not possible, I have Josh on speed dial. He's #3 for cripes sake right after my house and Laurel.

"Who is this?" I ask saying a quick prayer that Jaxon or Player snuck into my bag and reprogrammed Josh's speed dial as their idea of a bad joke.

"Well who's this?" the giggly female thing on the other end of the line said.

"I'm...can I talk to Josh please."

"Well this isn't him silly. This is Mandy."

"Where is he?" I ask dreading the giggly thing's answer.

She whispers, "Joshy is in the bathroom changing his pants, I have to go now. He's coming out and I want to surprise him in bed."

<click>

With what few million functioning brain cells I have left, I power down my phone.

Oh God.

I grab my stomach and barely make it to the bathroom before I vomit up all of Mrs. Tran's amazing food. Definitely not as good coming up as it was going down. I drop to the floor shaking, too shocked to speak.

Joshy (?) is changing his pants.

Josh has a girl in his bed right this second. At 10pm on a Saturday night.

She giggles a lot and she wants to surprise him.

Ok. Ok. Ok, I can handle this. I fumble through the bathroom cabinet for some mouthwash to rinse the foul bitter taste from my mouth and open the bathroom door just in time to hear the house party rules from Mrs. Tran.

I make a conscious effort to focus on the words.

She doesn't want to know if we've brought any booze (does anyone calls it booze anymore?). The backyard gate stays locked. She has two simple House rules—One, no one leaves the house or the yard, and two, you can make out if both parties mutually agree to it, but nobody has sex.

"I have pepper spray, a 12,000 volt Taser on my hip (she pats a small black box hooked onto her belt for emphasis), and a 2nd degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I have no problem using any or all of them to persuade you to obey The House Rules. Any questions? Good. I'll be right upstairs watching a Firefly marathon on the sci-fi channel that runs until 6am. Don't interrupt me unless someone throws up or is bleeding from a head wound."

She starts climbing the stairs, and then bends down to poke her face through the railings, "oh, almost forgot, the chicken satay sauce has peanuts, so if you have any nut allergies, don't eat it."

Geez embarrass teens much?

"We've got it Mom. Thanks," Amy said then turns to everyone, "don't say I didn't try to warn you about her. She's totally cool and totally deadly. Now. WHO WANTS TO PARTY?!"

The music is cranked up to an eardrum-splitting decibel and I grab a Coke from behind the bar.

Someone brought wine coolers and a six-pack, but other than that, it's a pretty dry party; we're physically, mentally, emotionally, every -ally way you can be exhausted....we all are. We have music going in the background, but the redheaded guy from drama starts playing along on the piano so it's like we have a live concert. Cool. Wish I wasn't so numb I could join in everyone's fun. How can they party when the world just ended?

Jaxon sits down and offers me a beer and I decline saying I'm dieting.

"Yeah, right. You know you can just say 'no thanks'"

"Doesn't always work, I have found it's best to come up with a line that buys into the stereotype that most guys have about girls."

"What's that?" he asks.

"That we're always worried about our weight and dieting."

"And you aren't?"

"Couldn't care less. In fact, I'd wolf down a cheeseburger and fries every hour of the day if I could. Except right now of course," I mumble that last part.

"Katie, are you ok? You seem a little out of it. Is everything all right?"

"Never better," I tell him. You know, like a liar.

He tries to apologize again, for what happened on Wednesday.

That snaps me out of my daze, "why are you apologizing? Josh should be the one apologizing. I'm free to kiss whoever the hell I want. Whenever the hell I want."

Did I mean it to come out that forcefully?

Yes. Yes, I did.

"Is that so?" he said with his eyebrows up, either in alarm or surprise. I don't care which one it is.

"Damn straight," I say climbing onto his lap. A little over the top maybe, but I'm trying to make a point here. "I can totally make out with you right here all over this couch if I want to."

Redheaded guy scares the crap out of me when he bangs the cover shut on the piano and walks out of the room giving me the nastiest look.

"Geez, what the hell is going on with everyone lately? Is there something funky in the water at school?" I say to no one in particular.

Jaxon starts talking again, "listen Katie there's something I need to say to you." He has his arms loosely around my waist but I feel zero heat coming from his lap. I must be losing my touch. I start to wiggle my butt around a little bit. Josh barely needs me to move half an inch and it's rocket city.

"I feel like I used you. And....I want to say I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about, you haven't used me, we've goofed around sometimes but, we have fun, we're friends. I never thought anything was serious or we were going out or anything. You don't owe me any apology Jax. I don't feel used at all. You're a great guy and I like having you as my friend. Right now, actually, I'm in the mood to use and abuse each other a little bit. What do you say Jaxon? Want to show me that award-winning pucker now? No asshat to interrupt us this time," I say trying my best impression of Laurel's purr.

"Thanks, that's really a sweet offer Katie, but I ....there is something I need to tell you. I think I have been conducting little...experiments...on myself... but with people to help me figure something out. And you were one of the people I was experimenting on."

"Ok, I'm totally lost. Are we making out or not?" I ask.

"Let's just say, last week outside the auditorium, I finally realized you weren't my type."

"Ouch. Way to kick someone when they're down Jax. I take it back. I don't want to be your friend anymore," I say removing my arm from around his shoulders. I'm half-serious.

He grabs my hand, "no, it's not like that, you're great, REALLY great. You're smart, and funny, and sassy, and talented and really cute, it's just that..."

I can see he's really struggling with whatever it is he's trying to say and stalling. My female pride is wounded but he's still Jaxon, and he seems to be trying really hard to be honest (which is more I can say for most of the guys I know right now) so I turn to him and say the first thing that comes to mind, "I really am your friend, over anything and everything else Jaxon. I hope you know that. Even if you don't want to stick your tongue down my throat, or get to third base."

His shoulders drop like a huge weight just fell off his back and he sighs.

It's another minute before he looks up and when he does I can see little tears at the corners of his eyes.

Now I'm worried again, "what is going on in that big brain of yours?"

He lets out an unsteady breath before he said, "I practiced over and over in my head what I would say to you, and now it's here, I can't put the words in the right order."

I spaz a little and poke him in the ribs with my finger like we used to in middle school at lunch trying to get one another to laugh up milk through our nose, "spit it out already, you're making me nervous."

"I'm gay."

His face is nothing but fear and anxiety. Holy shit. He's totally serious.

I fall backwards off his lap onto the floor in total shock. Is this my new move? If it is, I don't know if my heavily bruised butt can take it.

I was so not expecting what he just said. I can feel the wheels in my brain spinning trying to process.

I didn't realize I was just sitting there staring down at the hideous lime green shag carpet, or that I'd let go of his hands until he pleaded, "say something Katie. Please."

The pain in his voice snapped me back to reality to look up at him. Could I be a more insensitive jerk?

I launch myself back up at him throwing my arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry. You confide in me probably the hardest thing you've ever said out loud and I pull away? I'm so sorry Jaxon. I'm so so sorry, I just wasn't expecting it." As I start sobbing a little bit into his shoulder, I finally feel his tense body relax against me and hold me tight in a signature Jaxon bear hug.

He's rubbing my back and shushing me when I start to hiccup.

"Why are you crying?" he quietly asks me.

"I don't know. Why do I do anything lately?"

"Why don't we go somewhere we can talk things out privately ok? I think you're more upset than you should be about my little announcement, and an offer of third base? Really, Katie?"

I'm shaking so bad now, Jaxon practically carries me to a bedroom at the end of the hallway and shuts the door, then holds me until I'm ready to tell him everything that's happened to me since...well...since I was two years old.

Chapter 16

After talking with Jaxon for the entire cast party and then resting Sunday, I feel better but I'm still so furious at Josh. When he casually comes up to me before school and tries to talk, all the pain and anger I'd been holding onto all weekend explodes, "have a good time at your party Saturday night? I had a great time at mine, thanks for asking Josh."

"What party? My parents had clients over for dinner Saturday night," he said.

"Excuse me, I have to go talk to my friends, you know, the ones who HAVEN'T stabbed me in the back repeatedly," I say with barely suppressed fury.

"What the hell's wrong with you now Kat? What's going on? I was hoping we could talk today."

He should have tried out for the senior play his acting surprised is spot on target.

"Us? Talk? No. No, I don't see that happening. If you want to talk, why don't you go talk with your giggly new BEDWARMER. She had LOADS to say to me Saturday night when I called your cell and she picked up."

Instead of bursting into flames, his face goes pale white as a ghost.

"Kat wait, please, you don't understand," he said grabbing me by the arm.

I shake him off, "NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. I'M DONE! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE OF YOUR STUPID APOLOGIES. THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!"

I take off running into the school as fast as I can. Running away is good.

Through my mad all day, I start to notice people whispering behind their hands when I walk past and giving me weird looks in the hallways. By the time I get to lunch, I'm still burning, but Laurel is strangely subdued and is also the only one at the table.

"Hi, where is everyone today? I mean I figured the asshat wouldn't be here, he's not that stupid, but where are Jaxon and Player?" I ask her.

"Um, Eli is in the principal's office and Jaxon went home early sick to his stomach again."

"Player get busted breaking into the girl's locker room with a camera or something?" I joke.

"NO! Eli wouldn't do that. I mean, he...he got into a fight earlier...today, and was suspended from school for two days."

"Holy crap Laurel! Two days? That's serious. What happened?"

"This guy, a junior who was in the show and was at the cast party, he was saying something in 2nd period and wouldn't shut up when Eli told him to stop. Then Zach overheard what the guy was saying, and Zach was at the party too, but this junior wouldn't shut up so Eli and Zach, they both...they made him shut up."

"WHAT? I can't believe they got into a fight like that. That doesn't sound like either of them. What happened?" I'm in total disbelief.

"It took two security guards and the teacher to break up the fight," she adds.

"What was the kid saying that got them so mad?"

Laurel starts to furiously chew on her thumbnail as if it's is a fresh chocolate chip cookie from Mrs. Fields.

"Laurel, what the hell is going on? And I'm not in a mood for any of your stunts right now ok, just tell me what you know."

She drops her thumb and gives me a sad look that makes me even more worried than I already was. Laurel NEVER looks sad. It goes against her bubbly upbeat nature.

"There's a rumor going around the school about something that happened at the cast party Saturday night."

"Annnnd? Spill it already. What's the rumor?"

She is looking everywhere except at me until I grab her by the arms, "Laurel what is it?"

She takes a big deep breath before she said, "that you and Jaxon were hot and heavy at the cast party, that...you guys slept together, and that you went at it all night. You guys didn't come out of the room for almost three hours."

I don't remember leaving school early, but here I am at noon, sitting on the couch in my living room trying to figure out what the hell happened to my quiet life.

My phone chimes ping. ping. ping.

All three of them are texting me:

I'm sooooo sorry (Jaxon)

You ok? Where are you? (Laurel)

About time. Now if you want to know how it's done right, call me (Player)

I don't want to see another living soul but when the doorbell rings a half hour later, I get up to answer it out of habit.

"I was promised snacks," Player said pushing his way in heading straight to the kitchen.

Jaxon guides me, still zombie-like, back to the living room where I go stand by the window looking out at the oak tree and all its beautiful new green leaves starting to grow back.

"When I heard about Player and Zach, and then you went missing, I went back to school and found Player and Laurel right away and told them what really happened Saturday night," Jaxon said sitting on the couch looking up at me.

I shoot him a questioning look of surprise laced with fear. How much is everything?

He catches my drift and clarifies, "about what I told you."

"It's cool. Just means I now have zero competition at school," Player said flopping down with a huge bag of Doritos on the couch next to Jaxon, "but no staring at my junk dude, no matter how tempted you are."

"As if. I'd hit on Josh way before you," he said.

I can't help it. I start crying and can't stop these huge sobs that feel like someone's ripping them right out of my throat.

"Crap."

"Shit."

"Oh sweetie," Laurel said as they all jump up and race over to hug me at the same time.

That night I don't have much to say at dinner and it bothers my parents but they don't say anything. I haven't exactly been Miss Sociable the last month. Instead they talk to each other and quietly put food on my plate trying to get me to eat something.

"Carol called me today at work. She had to leave early to get Josh from school. Apparently he got suspended for two days for fighting with a senior. She wanted some advice about how to handle it," Mom said.

At school the next day I hear that it wasn't Josh's only fight, just the only one he got caught for. No one else said anything to me except Tiffani Sobhiani gives me a dirty look but that's nothing new. I do notice there are several guys around school sporting scratches, bruises on their faces, and two who have split lips. None of them will look me in the eye, and a few girls who give me small smiles of apology with little nods of their head.

Player, Zach, and Josh must have had a very busy day yesterday.

There's also a new rumor to occupy everyone.

Someone put a pair of girl's white lace panties up on the cafeteria billboard stapled to a huge poster board that said, "Tiffani, you left these in the Prop Room. XOXO -- P."

Player did it on purpose to draw attention away from me.

What's another day of detention between friends?

I get through the next week still in zombie mode, but Laurel bullies me into a trip to the mall looking for a prom dress that I think is pointless because I'm not even sure I want to go. We head into this one shop pompously named SASS where a sales woman in her early 20s comes over to us. "Tell me you're not shopping for prom night ladies because our inventory is really quite low you know." Her slight British accent reminds me of Liam and I sigh a little louder than I meant to, which made Laurel jiggle my arm.

"We already have dresses, but I'm not sure my friend's has that WOW! factor," Laurel told her.

"Whatever that is," I say almost rolling my eyes at her.

"Well, let's see if we can find you some wow! What will your date be wearing? Are you color coordinating with his sash, tie, and kerchief?" she asks.

"I don't have a date. I'm not going," I tell her.

"I'm her date, and yes, she is going," Laurel said giving me a firm look.

"You'll make such a striking couple. SASS caters to all types of relationships," she confides, "we just want everyone to look their best," Saleslady said with a sugary sweet smile. Creepy.

"No, no we're not a gay couple. Not that I wouldn't be into you if I was," I assure Laurel.

"You bet your ass you would. I'm totally hot and in demand. You'd be waitlisted baby."

No stopping the eye rolling this time. Laurel always knows how to help me kick a case of the blues; even one as bad this.

"But for the record, I was asked," why do I feel compelled to keep telling people that; as if I have to justify it or something.

"She was asked three times. She turned them all down flat," Laurel chimes in. She doesn't share that Jaxon and Player were the first ones who asked, and Liam did too, but before I could answer him he had to up and leave school when his Dad was transferred back overseas without notice. Before he left, he did tell me I was the first person who made him wish his Dad worked as a plumber instead of a diplomat. Laurel told me that was really something. Doesn't feel like it.

"Impressive," Creepy Saleslady said with admiration, "holding out for Mr. Right is always a sensible option," she told me.

"It sounds more impressive than it is," I explain.

"All three hunchbacks dear?"

"No. They're all really...nice. They just...didn't quite...fit. And one was deported. So I probably can't really count him anyway."

I'm wistful and suddenly felt sadder. If that's even possible.

Laurel notices and grabs my arm to pull me forward saying, "she has a Mom with a guilty conscience who forked over her credit card. We need some serious retail therapy pronto."

"Buck up ladies. You are definitely in the proper shop. Maybe it's not the third one that's the charm, but the fourth. I have a few things we kept in the back. There's one in particular I'm thinking would look quite fetching with your dark hair and blue eyes. Definitely wow to spare, if you'll follow me please."

And with that, I let Laurel drag me like a rag doll to the back of a high-end designer dress shop for some wow.

Player plops down next to me at lunch the next day throwing an arm around my shoulders, "man if looks could kill my guts would be spilled all over this table right now in a bloody heap."

"What?"

He leans in to whisper, "your boy over there at the track table. He's eyeballing me something fierce right now."

I don't bother looking. What's the point? Abruptly, a loud crash startles me and makes Player's arm tighten around my shoulders. All noise in the cafeteria stops in a deafening momentary silence. A door slams and the lunchtime din resumes its normal level.

"I'm pretty sure that was not the proper way to return your cafeteria tray to the stacks," Laurel said, "you can look up now sweetie. He's gone."

But I don't. Again, what's the point?

"Well, this table is now a major buzz kill," Player announces.

"Eli!" Laurel chastises him.

"What? Buck up Buttercup," he told me giving my shoulder a tiny shove with his. "At least we got you in the separation. You're loads easier on the eyes than he is these days...but, if I'm being honest, not by much." Jaxon tries to kick him under the table and I feel Laurel reach behind me trying to smack his arm.

"Knock it off both of you. Listen, breakups happen. Shit happens, ok?" he snaps at them both.

By now all three of them have heard the full, unabridged history of Katie and Josh-- The Humiliating Pain, from the time we met in a baby gym class when we were two up until five minutes ago and all the glorious gory details in between.

"All I'm saying is that our little B Cup Bookworm deserves better. If nobody else will say it I will. The guy's a dick. You don't mess with people like that," and he stands, leaving the table without saying another word.

I push the food around my plate for a little while longer until the bell signals us to head to class.

The next week goes by in a blur of studying for finals, talking about summer plans, and getting ready for The Prom. That's all anyone's talking about at school. I'm actually a little sick of hearing it, and it's still one week away, but Laurel manages to talk me into another shopping trip for accessories tonight.

It's only been a week since we were here getting my new dress, but the mall still has the crowded, creepy, ick factor for me that always makes me want to race out of the nearest exit screeching. But, I don't. I'm a good BFF, or at least getting better at faking it these days.

I'm waiting for her to come out of the dressing room for the 19th time when from behind me I hear a deep voice say, "Hey."

Damn it. Just when I thought tonight couldn't get any worse. How does he still send shivers down my spine with just one word? Even when it's the first word I have heard him say to me in sixteen days.

I take a quick deep breath and turn around to face the greenest eyes I have ever seen, and haven't seen in what feels like forever. I try not to stare. And fail. Breathe dummy. Speak!

"Hi." Stimulating conversation Katie. Way to go.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"It's the women's section of Macy's. Wild guess, I'm not ordering ice cream." Excellent choice Katie, like sarcasm and snark served you sooooooo well this year.

"Right."

He's looking down, checking out his shoes. Yes, laces. Very interesting Josh.

Maybe he's as uncomfortable as me. Good. I hope he's sweating buckets under that tight polo shirt. "....you here alone?" he asks without looking up.

"Nope. Laurel's checking out the entire department one outfit at a time. She doesn't want to risk not being a fashion statement at the dance. She has an image to protect."

"You're going crazy shopping aren't you? It's just not your thing."

Not fair. Low blow knowing me so well.

"Not at all. Just looking for all the tinsel," I say.

"Tinsel?" Does he try to look cute on purpose cocking his head to the side like that?

"Tinsel. All the little extras that make your outfit shine: shoes, jewelry, new makeup...tinsel, like the shiny stuff you put on the Christmas tree to get the extra sparkle," I explain.

"Yeah, you sound really into it." There's that crooked little grin again. I will not fall for it. I will not.

"I'm working hard keeping my enthusiasm to a minimum. Don't tell Laurel, she's been looking forward to it all week."

"Your secret's safe with me," to his credit, a half second later he realizes what he just said, and his face flushes about 10 shades of pink.

I decide I'm feeling gracious and I'm just glad to see him again, so I let him off the hook for that one, "relax, what's done is done. Right?"

I rub my palms on my pants to keep my hands from reaching out to touch him under any circumstances.

"Thanks," he mumbles and meets my eyes. I remember I told myself I wouldn't get caught up staring at him again so I break the staring contest and ask him, "better question is what are you doing in the Macy's women's section?"

Make those 10 shades of red now.

Before he can answer, a very giggly girl with very long brown hair, and a very short black skirt comes out of nowhere and latches onto his arm like he's the last life vest on the sinking Titanic. "THERE YOU ARE JOSHY!"

A big mouth bass fish out of water flopping around on the ground would have a smaller gaping mouth and stunned look on its face than Josh does right now. For the first time ever, we both seem to be at a loss for words.

Long brown hair/short-black skirt fills the nanosecond of silence that feels like it's gone on for an hour. "I was just looking at like the most adorbs set of black vinyl pumps Joshy. Like you have to come see how they look on me. AND LIKE YOU KNOW IT'S A BOGO SALE TOO!"

I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows a few times trying to remember how to form words, "what's a BOGO sale?"

"Buy One Get One half off silly! Isn't that extreme?" she squeals.

I swear, she actually squeals.

Then it hits me.

He's here on a date.

At the mall.

With that squealing thing on his arm.

Barely two weeks after we almost do it in the prop room? I'm about to lose my weak grip on reality, and my dinner, when Laurel swoops in out of nowhere for the rescue. If she keeps this up, I'm going to have to start paying her as my personal bodyguard.

"And who's this lovely little thing?" Laurel positively purrs. I'm still trying to figure out how to be all casual and mature, but I'm so beyond stunned at this point. I can't speak.

"Oh Hi, I'm Mandy. I'm like a junior at Westfield. I think we had Spanish together last year before I transferred. You look like so familiar you know?" she squeals again.

I swear I'm not making that up.

Wait a minute. Joshy? Mandy? Why does that sound familiar...MANDY?

The night I tried to call him from the cast party. The giggly thing that answered his cell is now hanging on his arm. My eyes are as big as saucers when they fly to meet Josh's eyes. His guilt is palpable and my chest is so tight, I can't take a breath in. I'm frozen stock still where I stand.

"Nice to meet you, but we really have to go. Have parent credit cards to do serious damage to for Prom you know," Laurel told her. Grabbing my arm she turned me in the opposite direction. Bless you Laurel. I owe you a major coffee and a cookie the size of Texas for this.

Unfortunately, now that I'm not getting lost staring into his eyes I'm not feeling as gracious as I was a few minutes ago. I look back over my shoulder telling him, "Later JOSHY," as cold as I can muster and head out into the fluorescent lights trying not to think too hard about why I'm so furious, or why I want to collapse in a sobbing heap right there on the tile floor.

We stop for a caffeine kick at Starbucks and by mutual BFF mental telepathy Laurel has not mentioned one word about what just happened. It took me a couple days after that night to bring her up to speed on everything I told Jaxon at the cast party. Her BFF answer to help squash my new pain is more retail therapy as a distraction.

She drags me into Claire's to look at rhinestone hair clips and chandelier earrings and we practically run smack into the back of Mandy in the headbands section. I almost pull a muscle in my neck whipping my head around to look for Josh. He's nowhere to be seen but Laurel's two steps ahead of me, per usual "where's your boy toy?" she asks Mandy.

I try not to let her see me wince.

"Oh, Joshy said he had to make a quick call and pick up something special he ordered from a jewelry store and he'd catch up in like a second. Probably something he got for his Mom for Mother's Day. He's just like the sweetest most thoughtful guy ever! Hey, you guys want to like shop together until he gets back?"

She's more excited than an over-caffeinated Chihuahua not even giving us a chance to try to politely ditch her hyper ass before she grabs onto us and starts gushing about prom, "Joshy hasn't asked me yet, but like I just know he will any day now. Sometimes us girls just have to help the guy out you know. Like drop hints, like help you know. That's why I asked him the other night if he could drive me to the mall this weekend."

So this is their third date?!?

"I told him like I needed to get a pair of shoes for my PROM dress," she turns away to try on a necklace and just keeps on talking.

"Like did she just like wink at me?" Laurel mumbles next to me.

"Joshy? Are you kidding me? I'm going to throw up in my mouth," I whispered back, "you're the evil mastermind. Laurel you have to get me out of here. Now."

To her credit, she manages to stifle a giggle before Mandy turns back around. I swear Mandy has not taken a single breath, but has not stopped talking since we walked in and she spotted us.

"Ow!" Laurel grabs her stomach and bends over. Mandy's eyes go wide.

We bail out fast on the fake menstrual pretense and head back to the parking lot to Laurel's car.

"Remind me again, do we hate him now?" she asks me softly, only half-serious.

"We don't hate him, we should, we're trying, he just....and...I don't know what we feel anymore."

We're just stunned.

"Maybe Mandy is his penance."

"No one deserves that much punishment. Not even Joshy," I mumble.

Laurel spies a pair of cheetah print heels in the corner on our way out and tears off after them telling me to catch up. I give a weak promise that I'm right behind her. Once I'm alone for a minute, I slip behind a mannequin, drop to the floor, and watch my tears make dark circles, one after the other, where they fall on the legs of my jeans.

Chapter 17

The Monday before Prom misery walks up to our table in the form of Tiffani Sobhiani, tossing her hair over her shoulder fixing each of us with a look of utter loathing.

"Here to take me up on my offer from December, took you long enough. Find your panties?" Player taunts her with a deeply depraved grin.

"Eli," Laurel said under her breath next to him. He looks over at her giving her a weaker grin.

"In your dreams asshole, I'm here to hand out the ballots for you to vote for Prom King and Queen," she snarls and throws a pile of them into the center of the table and stalks off.

Jaxon gives me a gentle nudge, "who you voting for Katie?" he asks.

"Doesn't matter. Whoever's at the top of the list I guess?"

"Let's see. Hmmm," he said making a face.

"Who is it?" I ask barely interested.

"Zach and Stacy."

I snort, "of course it is. Good for them."

"There's another couple here. Neil Garson and Amanda Playton. Do we know them?" he asks.

"Neil's the TA for my English class, but I don't know who Amanda is," I tell him.

"You've seen her, hot babe, really wild, a little bit punk rocker, the one who shaves off her eyebrows and draws them in with a different design every day," Player told us.

"Seriously? Neil is so quiet. The only thing wild about him is his long curly hair," I mumble to myself, "sounds like an odd couple."

"Maybe odd couples are the best kind," Laurel said giving Player a glance, "they've been together for the last three years."

"I do like my 'odd'," he said giving her a hug and a wink.

I overhear my parents in the library that night and peek in. Mom is sitting on Dad's lap with him in the reading chair.

"I'm really worried Sarah."

"I know honey. I am too. But there's nothing we can do," she said.

"I'm her father. I'm supposed to fix things for her. It's killing me seeing her like this all the time."

Mom's talking so softly I have to strain to hear her from the hallway, "it's obvious something big has happened to change her behavior. I'm assuming it has something to do with Josh because he hasn't been over to the house for a while. But we just have to wait and let them work it out for themselves."

"I don't know if I can," Dad said.

"Katie's not a child anymore and we can't fix everything all the time. Sometimes our job is to step back and let her get hurt so she can learn to pick herself up and fix things on her own."

"I don't know how much longer I can do that Sarah. She just seems so miserable. She barely said a word in the car on the way home the few times I picked her up after her play rehearsals. Now she heads straight to her room, she's not even eating dinner with us most nights."

I have never heard my Dad so sad.

"It will all work out honey, we just have to give her some space and be here for her when she's ready to talk," Mom, the ever-level-headed psychiatrist told him.

They're quiet for a minute and I start to head back upstairs to my room when Dad said, "I think you're right about it having something do with Josh. I ran into David in line at Starbucks last week before work. We sat and talked for a little bit."

My Dad talked to Josh's Dad last week? I'm now frozen where I stand.

"What did he say?" Mom asks him. Yeah, what did he say Dad?

"He asked how Katie was doing. I told him a little bit, just said she wasn't really acting like herself and all. David said he and Carol are worried about Josh. He's not talking much, when he does he's talked about not coming back to the track team next fall and apparently he loves to run."

"Did he say anything else? How's Carol? I haven't talked to her in a couple weeks, I think she's been avoiding my calls," Mom said.

"I don't know. David seemed so, sad, worse even than I remember him being when he cheated on her all those years ago."

Josh's Dad had an affair? Is that why he left? Why they moved?

Oh God, and I accused Josh of two-timing me with Tiffani Sobhiani. No wonder he was so furious when I said it.

"David said he thought things were getting so much better since they moved back here. He knew Josh was still angry with him and things had been tough for the three of them the past few years, but these last months he said it felt like he had his family back the way he'd been working hard for and dreaming of. Josh was laughing and happier than they'd ever seen him. They were going out as a family. He said something big happened at the beginning of the year with them, but that they were talking more and felt closer than ever, but now, he just doesn't know what's happened, and neither do I."

I hear Mom sigh.

"He said they even invited one of his clients they met at the office holiday party over for dinner. The clients have a daughter about the same age as Josh, he thought maybe that would cheer him up. Josh just moped all through dinner and David had to make Josh agree to drive her to the mall last weekend. They had a huge fight about it that night."

Is he talking about Mandy? Josh's Dad made him go out with her?

"Sarah?"

"Hmm?"

"Is this...is this all my fault?" Dad's voice is strained. If I didn't know better it almost sounds like he's trying not to cry. Parents don't cry. Do they?

"Jim this is absolutely not your fault. How could you think such a thing?" Mom said.

"I know I over reacted the first couple of times I found Josh and Katie alone together. I knew they weren't doing anything wrong, I just...I don't know...I just wasn't ready for that part of Katie's life to start. What if I scared him away? I think Josh is a good kid, and I KNOW Katie is. Maybe I should just go talk to him?"

Oh Dear God no! DON'T YOU DARE DAD!

Mom's using her Mom voice, "James Taylor O'Connell. You will do no such thing."

Wow. She used all three of his names, Mom always means business when she does that with me. I slowly head back upstairs certain Mom will keep Dad in check.

Later I come down the stairs to the living room and I hear the TV on.

Mom and Dad are curled up on the couch, she's got her eyes closed. They look so sweet and cozy. Is that how Josh and I looked when they came home and found us that night?

Dad sees me standing in the hall, "hey Kitten. You want to come watch a movie with us? It's one of your favorites, Hotel of Horrors," he told me.

I don't realize until now how much I miss him calling me Kitten. I don't say anything, instead I just walk straight over to sit next to him on the couch curling up into a ball at his side, making myself as small as I can, just like a little kitten. He told me once that's how I got the nickname. When I was a baby I'd crawl up onto his lap, curl into a ball, and fall asleep.

I can't do that now of course. I'm too big and it would just be weird, but a part of me wishes I was that little kid again so I could.

I hear my Dad sigh and my Mom reaches across gently brushing the hair back from my face. The three of us sitting there huddled together on the couch makes me feel so safe and loved.

That is the moment I decide to stop being an angry, self-absorbed, reclusive hermit, and to try to start making my parents feel better.

And, myself too.

Friday before Prom, Laurel finally confesses at lunch--she and Player have been dating exclusive for a few months, since Valentine's Day actually, but they didn't want to tell me because I was so upset about everything that was going on with Jaxon and Josh.

Player offers to be a date for both of us this weekend. "I could seriously get into a threesome with the two of you," he told me with a wink, "I'll make every guy in the room jealous walking in with the four most perfect breasts in the school on my arm."

"You can knock it off now Eli. Katie knows you're still a virgin AND that you're all talk," Laurel told him.

"Not cool Laurel. A guy has a rep to protect," he said through tight lips but his eyes are positively sparkling as he takes her hand in his. Anyone looking at him can tell he's been sucked into Laurel's orbit and only has eyes for her. The Player has been played and is out of circulation, at least for the time being, and he looks very cool with that.

And the way she's smiling back? She's got it just as bad for him. How did I not see this? I feel a little guilty. My friends were so happy and had exciting news to share but didn't in order to spare my feelings. I'll have to figure out a way to make it up to them.

Twirling in the bathroom in the wow! dress Laurel talked me into getting, and agreeing to go to Prom with her and Eli (no more calling him Player) is how I start to make it up to them.

The gown feels like cool liquid on my skin and falls in soft ripples of bright turquoise blue almost all the way to my ankles, but leaves my left leg showing through the layers of sheer fabric with each step I take. The thin silver strap heels are the finishing touch to make me feel like a movie star. With my hair gathered up on the sides and pinned in place with Laurel's rhinestone clips and the rest left cascading down my back in soft waves, this is definitely the dressiest, and girliest I have felt in a long time. I make a mental note to thank her for the thousandth time for talking me into all this as I head back to my room so she can do my make-up.

After nearly draining the camera batteries taking pictures of the three of us, my Dad drives us to Prom and pulling up to the hotel, I admit, I am feeling better than I have all month.

The ballroom at the hotel is alive with suits, tuxes, gowns in a rainbow of colors and music at full blast, but not so loud that I can't hear someone right behind me.

"Hey."

Shivers shoot up my spine at the sound of his voice. Will that ever go away? My heart starts pounding against my ribs. I take a deep breath before turning around to face him.

"Josh. What...what are you doing here?" Shock. I'm in complete and total shock.

"I was supposed to meet Jaxon here. We had a grand plan to go Stag like you and Laurel but then I got your text. I hope he isn't too pissed at me," he said looking around, then his eyes are back on me and he quickly sucks in his breath, "you look...amazing Kat."

"Thanks. You too," I'm too stunned to see him to form complex sentences right now. That tuxedo fits every angle of his body perfectly. He looks so sharp and megawatt hot. OMG! Did he get a haircut? I forget how to breathe, but I don't miss the fact that his handkerchief and sash perfectly match the same shade of my turquoise gown.

Coincidence? How could he possibly have known?

Then it hits me what he just said, "what text?" I ask.

He looks as confused as I feel when he pulls out his phone to show me.

Josh I'm so sorry for everything all the misunderstandings! Please come to the Prom! I can't wait even one more hour! I have to see you!!!

"Very dramatic, but...I didn't send that."

I'm digging my phone out of my little purse hanging on my shoulder before he can say, "but it's from your cell."

I look at my text message history and sure enough, there it is. The last message sent from my phone 40 minutes ago to his.

I look up at him. The expression on his face is so hopeful but I can't lie to him, I start to tell him when an ear-splitting whistle makes us snap our heads around to look across the room where we see Eli with his arm draped over Laurel's shoulder, and Jaxon holding hands with the redheaded guy from drama class. All four of them are grinning and waving to us like morons.

"Laurel. She sent you the text from my phone when I was getting dressed and she came over to do my makeup. That sneaky little... all the exclamation points should have been a clue. What a drama queen," I say him putting my phone back in my purse.

"Is Jaxon holding hands with that guy?" Josh said.

"Yeah," I say smiling over at my friend who's never looked happier in his life. Jaxon and the redheaded guy from drama are in matching slate grey tuxes with orange cummerbunds and handkerchiefs and bowties. They are beyond cute. Gay or straight they both look smoking hot--like they walked off the cover of one of those guy fashion or health magazines. Guess we'll have to find out his name, can't keep calling him 'the redheaded guy' now.

"Cool. That explains a lot. I probably owe him an apology...or three," he said as I turn around to look at him again.

"So, you...didn't want to see me tonight?"

It's obvious he's disappointed but more, his eyes are so sad.

Laurel's voice pops into my head again, Life is too short.

"It's ok, I'll...I'll leave you alone Kat," he's leaving. STOP HIM!

"Josh wait," I say on impulse then bite my bottom lip hard. Ok, he's turned and standing only a foot away from you. Now what are you going to do Katie?

"Josh I--"

"What?" he whispers as he takes a half step closer to me.

"I...I didn't send the text...but..."

"But?" that crooked grin is my complete undoing.

Life is too short.

A dam in my head breaks letting my feelings come flooding out, "I didn't send it, but I should have. Laurel may have written it, but they're all my words; every last one of them. I am sorry for everything; all the stupid misunderstandings and my being so stubborn. I can't stop thinking about you. I want to be with you all the time, not just for kissing, that's hugely amazing of course, but I want to read to you, laugh with you, fight with you, make up with you, definitely making up with you, I want to cook with you, hang out with you in the fort, nap with you, but mostly I just want to BE with you--no matter what we're doing, for as long as I can."

"Is that all?" he smiles.

"Yeah, I think so. That's the longest I have ever talked non-stop without taking a breath."

He takes another half step closer so we're almost touching now.

Even in heels my eyes are only level with his throat. His shirt is open a few buttons from the collar and my eyes are drawn to the small brown circle hanging from a black cord lying against his skin.

He's wearing it.

He's wearing the clay tile I made for him when we were little.

I can't stop myself from reaching out to touch it with my fingertips. His breath draws in so sharply it startles me. I look up to see his burning eyes staring into mine. Hunger doesn't even begin to describe what I think I see there.

Breathing is a small problem now, and my heart feels like it's about to bust out of my chest from beating so fast and hard. When he speaks his voice is low and husky like I remember it now in that dark room on Halloween night. How could I not recognize it was him?

"I have something for you," he said slowly lifting his right hand from his jacket pocket taking my hand in his left.

I know why I'm trembling but why is he? Dear God please don't let my palms be all sweaty again. Then he puts a necklace in my upturned palm. It takes all my effort to look away from his intense gaze to my hand. At the end of the delicate gold chain is a simple gold disk about the size of a dime. One side has KO + JD engraved on it. I turn it over to find a smiley face on the other.

"I didn't make it with my own hands, but I did design it with a jeweler. That counts for something right?"

It counts for everything I want to tell him, but I can't speak. I can only bob my head up and down like a total moron. I swear to myself, no matter what, I'm not going to cry and ruin all Laurel's hard work with my makeup.

"I've been carrying it around in my backpack all week. I wasn't sure this moment would ever happen," he said lifting the necklace from my hand.

"Or that I'd ever get the chance to put it on you and see you wear it," he whispers as his hands go through my hair to do the clasp at the back of my neck. The disk feels cool lying against my skin but Josh's palms are warm against my cheeks.

My voice finally comes back but I can't think of anything brilliant to say, "thanks for helping me with my bucket list Josh."

"What?" he asks with a little chuckle.

"I'll tell you later," I smile so big I think my face muscles are going to hurt for a week.

His hands move away, but then I feel his strong arms tighten around my waist pulling me closer against him.

How much did I miss feeling him hold me like this?

He grins down at me as he lowers his head and I'm surrounded by friendship and cinnamon mouthwash as his lips meet mine and red hot fireworks explode everywhere inside me.

He lifts his head, his eyes are so dark, and deep he told me soft and low, "I love you Kat. I think I always have."

"I love you too, Josh. I can't remember a time in my life that I didn't."

"I want to start over. Take it nice and slow and do it right this time," he said smiling, "Hey, I'm Josh."

I smile back going along with it, "Katie. But you can call me Kat."

"Hi Kat, I know this is short notice but, would you like to go to the prom with me?" he grins.

"Ordinarily I don't agree to go out with guys I have just met, but since I happen to be all dressed up already, yes, I'd love to go to the prom with you."

He leans in for another kiss that makes my head spin. There's clapping and wolf calls behind us we can hear over the music that makes him break the kiss and look up. I stifle a quick flash of anger at whoever has interrupted us.

I turn around with Josh still keeping his arms locked tight around my waist as I lean back against him.

We watch as our best friends cross the room making their way over to us.

I smile and wonder how next year will possibly compare to this one.

