There have been moments in my life where I have wanted to run, hide in a hole in the ground, and never come back. A tomb would have been fitting. But that night, after the disaster in Finley Hall, all I wanted to do was find Violet and make her feel safe. When it all went down originally, I knew something was up with Collette Jameson that night. She had hit on me before, and I was always quick to deflect it. I knew her boyfriend well and didn’t want any part of the drama she was looking for. More so, I didn’t want to feed Vi’s illusions by even speaking to Collette. But Vi is right. I had beer after beer, and Vi and I had argument after argument. We were already through at that point. The drunk version of me didn’t fight Collette when she threw herself at me. Hell, I was too jacked up to move properly at that point anyway. Collette kissed me. She was the aggressor. And as soon as I could, I moved her off me and tried to leave. But, of course, it was too late by then. It had been too late before Collette landed her mouth over mine as well.

As soon as Vi admitted to setting me up, my heart froze. It shattered like glass, and I couldn’t see, think, or feel a damn thing. And that lasted about five solid seconds. I knew instantly I forgave her. It was at that moment I understood how much help Vi really needed. Her insecurities had her crawling out of her skin and out of her mind. I never had the urge to cheat on Violet. I never would. Those girls I slept with after the fact were a weak attempt to push through the wall my heart and mind had put up, and it didn’t work. I still wanted Vi in the worst way. I wanted everything we had prior to the horrible unzipping of our relationship. We had it all, and I knew that somehow we could get it back.

---

Wendell texted me that night to let me know Vi was staying at his apartment and apologized for the fact she had inadvertently gas lighted me, but the descriptor felt far too harsh. I understand that when their parents announced their split, both Wendell and Vi took the news hard and both dealt with it in their own way. Violet needed help. We needed couple’s therapy, anything that could have pulled us free from the quicksand that eventually pulled us under.

Vi had me believing so many things that weren’t true, I was starting to doubt my own perceptions. I’d see a girl walking by and wonder if I was attracted to her. I grew terrified to say hello to anyone of the opposite gender in fear Vi would pop out of the woodwork and declare she was right. And then, that night at the party, that I desperately wished I had stayed away from, I showed up. And Vi didn’t hand me bottle after bottle. I was there willingly drowning my sorrows. The more she rode me, the more I drank, but what I should have done was seen the desperation in her eyes—felt her pain from a different perspective. I could have spared us both a lot of heartache if I did. And when Collette cornered me in that room and slammed her face against mine, I was too weak to fight it. No sooner did she stick her tongue in my mouth than I came to my senses and pried her off me, but it was too late by then. We had an eager audience, two lime green eyes focused in on us with terror. The look on her face was outright heartbreak personified, and I don’t think I could ever forget it. I saw Vi’s crushed spirit in my dreams.

Vi lit into a shouting match that let everyone in a three-block radius know that it was over. It wasn’t. I knew it then, and I know it now. You don’t leave someone because they’re injured, and at that point Vi was family. She was mine—still is. She just needed a little help getting over the razor-sharp hump of her parents’ impending divorce. But time widened the distance between us. A few sorority girls came my way, and I tried my hardest to do just what Wen suggested. Move on. It didn’t work. It just made everything ten times worse. I should have gone home, to Snow Valley, to Violet, and even though it’s a little too late, that’s exactly what I’m doing today.

Sophie suggested I give Violet some space, so aside from a few apologetic text messages, I’ve done just that. We both miss classes the rest of the week. I’ve got a game tonight, and unfortunately, there’s no getting around that for me. But Seth lets me know I’m off the hook for Saturday’s date. Vi has made it explicitly clear she won’t be showing up. So I head to Snow Valley on my own. And as I drive by Main, at the corner of Rose Bloom, I spot a brand new dental office belonging to Dr. Jenson McNeal. Without putting too much thought into it, I park across the street and stare into the mirrored glass window where Jenson is probably three fingers deep in somebody’s mouth. For a second I imagine him groping Violet, three fingers deep in far more nefarious places, and it takes everything in me not to bolt over and throw him right through that mirrored window. A part of me can’t stand Jenson because he’s basically a clean slate. Even though I know I’m a better fit for Vi, they have no dark history together. There is nothing stopping them from sharing a shiny bright future. But with Vi and me—the past will always be there, lingering like a ghost ready to haunt us when we least expect it. As much as I hate to admit it, someone like Jenson McNeal might just be able to snatch Violet away from me. And that, right there, is the final knife in my chest.

I start up the engine and drive home, the house in which I grew up in, just a half mile from the Hathaway home.

I bound up the porch and give a gentle knock before letting myself in. I walk through the foyer and find my parents in the living room. Mom’s lying on the sofa with her bare legs wrapped around my father’s thighs, and he’s got his pants around his ankles. His shirt is disheveled, and it takes me far too long to process what’s going on.

“Shit,” I hiss as I spin around in a fit.

“Dane, get the gun!” Mom wails. “We have an intruder!”

A commotion ensues, and I take a few voluntary steps into the safety of the foyer in the event my father produces a .45.

“I’m not an intruder!” I shout, unsure if I should bolt and simply let them think it. Honestly, I don’t know what would be worse at this point—a little breaking and entering or their only child catching them in action.

“Son?” my mother cries as the shuffle of feet start in this direction.

“Lane, is that you?” My father dashes in front of me with his shirt still unbuttoned down the front, his pants hastily zipped with his boxers hanging between the teeth. His eyes are wide with disbelief. “My God, you’ve about given us a heart attack!”

Mom pants her way around my father and looks up at me with her hair every which way, her lipstick smeared clear halfway across her face. Her clothes are on, shirt on backwards and inside out—points for getting back into her jeans in one piece.

“My goodness Lane, come in. You’re acting like a stranger. What brings you home today? You didn’t call. And is that a black eye?” She shoots me an accusatory look, and I get the message loud and clear. Gone are the carefree days of walking in like I live here. I don’t. It’s as simple as that.

I wince at the two of them. The last thing I want to do is remember this moment. “I’m fine.” I dab my eye with my fist. “Life just sort of careened out of control. I just needed to step away from Leland for a minute.”

Mom grunts as if she’s about to vomit. “Oh my God! He’s quitting school. Do something, Dane. I’ll get the coffee on. I think I have a pound cake in the freezer.” Mom takes off, inconsolable.

“I’m not quitting school!” I shout after her, and she shouts thank heavens from deep in the kitchen.

“On second thought”—she trills with relief—“I’ll make a fresh batch of brownies.”

Dad frowns as he offers a quick pat to my shoulder. He’s an older version of myself, far more frown lines than I ever want to acquire, but at the rate I’m going, I’ll have him beat before the month is through.

He slaps a seat next to him on the same couch that he and Mom were squirming over, and I opt for the recliner instead.

“Let me guess.” He offers that affable smile he’s known for. “Girl trouble? You regretting that social mix-up you’ve gotten yourself into? I hope Violet is faring better than you are.”

That ridiculous TSE motto bumps through me, the odds are in your favor! It’s becoming crystal clear they’re not.

“Vi’s not faring any better than I am.” I don’t know if that’s entirely true, but if she feels a fraction of the pain I do, I know she’s hurting.

Dad leans over, elbows on his knees, that look of laser focus pointed my way. Dad has always had a way of making you feel as if you were his greatest concern. And I believe I am at the moment.

So I tell him about it. I start at the beginning—the very beginning, back in the beginning of time. Violet and Lane B.C. I tell him about how hard Vi took her parents’ split, how it led to ours, about the infamous party kiss. Collette Jameson’s need to turn a quick buck meets Vi’s need to pin her boyfriend to a wax board. I tell him about how much I still love and need Vi. About our failed experiment.

“I tried to live without her.” My voice breaks. “And I can’t. It’s as simple as that. I need her in my life. She belongs with me. I’m not angry or upset with her. I never have been. I was hurt. That’s all. I want to help her crest her paranoia and help her trust me again. Trust people.”

Dad’s clear sage eyes don’t leave mine, but his jaw moves back and forth as he considers all I’ve had to say.

“I knew something wasn’t right with the way you two split. You told us very little. It was out of the blue. And you’re right. The two of you were peas in a pod before everything exploded. How about counseling? Would she be open to that?”

“She might be. But I may never find out. After what happened last Wednesday night, I don’t know if she’ll ever speak with me again. I wouldn’t blame her if she just wanted to put a period on that phase of her life and call it a day.”

“Do you think you can do that?”

“Hell no.” I wince because I don’t usually indulge in expletives around my father. “There will never be a period there for me.”

“Looks to me there’s only one thing left to do. Speak with her. Get her to hear your side of things. What you said a moment ago, you need to tell her. Let her know you’re not angry. That you don’t blame her. Tell her that you love her and that she’s the only one for you.”

“Sounds exactly like what I need to do. Now the obstacle is to find her. She’s at Greer University, or at least she was. Staying with her brother. I’m pretty sure Wen isn’t letting me anywhere near his sister.”

“Wen has a good head on his shoulders.” He glances out the window a moment as he considers this. “But he is a big brother. Big brothers can be fiercer than a grizzly.”

“Don’t I know it.” I can still feel that blow he gifted my eye.

We chitchat about life until my mother reappears with fresh homemade brownies, hot coffee, and milk, and it feels as if everything is as it should be. But it’s not. And it won’t be until Vi is in my life again.

---

I make it back to Leland in time for the game. I spot Rowen and Braden up front. No sign of Sophie or Vi, not that I was expecting Vi to show. And if she did, I would have been too inflated to play. I don’t go over and say hello to the two of them, but once the game is through, and it was a massacre—I don’t think Leland has ever suffered such a loss—the two of them catch up with me on the court.

Rowen slaps me over the shoulder. “That sucked, dude.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to my year.” I nod to Braden.

“Get yourself cleaned up.” Rowen gives me a shove toward the locker room. “We’ll be right here waiting.”

And once I get out, there they are, as unwanted as when they first arrived.

Rowen offers up another slap to my shoulder, and this time he leads me right out of the gym with them. We head wordlessly over to the Underground, where the music is pumping, the girls are losing their minds to some guy belting away on stage, and a waitress just walked by with a plate of sizzling fajitas.

“Looks good.” Braden takes us to a quiet table in the back, and we put in a quick order with the waitress.

Rowen raps his knuckles over the table. “I’d ask how you were doing, but after seeing that game tonight, I think I know.”

Braden shakes his head at me. “You do a repeat performance, and I’m pretty sure they’ll bench you.”

It’s true. I gave the game away, but in my defense, my head just wasn’t in it.

Rowen grunts, “I don’t think he’s too worried about that.” He looks to me. “Have you spoken with her yet?”

“Not even a text. At this point, I’d settle for an emoji of the middle finger. Do they have that yet?”

“They will,” Braden assures. “And when they do, it might even be in your honor.”

The two of them share a quiet laugh, and I’d laugh along with them if I weren’t feeling like a truck just ran over me.

“I don’t know.” I shake my head, staring at the table as if it held all the answers. “I just never in my wildest imagination would think this could happen to us. We were so happy—so normal—and as soon as her parents split, we fractured, too. And I can’t even wrap my head around what happened these last five weeks. Talk about dousing the fire with gasoline. Vi and I destroyed what could have been left of us. It was great in the beginning, and then last week…” A boulder lands in my throat, and I can’t move or work past it, so I shake my head at them.

“It’s all right, man.” Rowen gives me a light kick under the table. “I’ve got some good news for you.”

It takes everything in me to lift my head to look at him. Losing Vi has been a weight heavier than the world.

Braden nods to him. “Dude, he’s miserable. Give him a ray of light.”

Just as Rowen opens his mouth to speak, a blonde whirlwind lands next to me, babbling a mile a minute about how sorry she is for me, letting me know with every passing second how available she is—Becca Carmichael.

“I know”—she leans in, her sugary scent is making my eyes water—“how about you and I head to my place and catch a movie? There’s nothing like a little solitude from the general population to clear your head.”

“Becca,” Braden barks. “You’ve slept with two-thirds of this table.” His eyes round out, incredulous. “Are you kidding me right now?”

She flits her coffee-colored eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, get over it, Braden. I’m not sleeping with either one of you again.” She looks to me, more determined than ever. “I’m one floor beneath you, apartment one oh three.” Her hand slips between my legs so fast I don’t have a chance to stop her from gliding over the goods. “You get lonely, you know where to go.” She shoots a dirty look to both of her exes before taking off, and I sit there like an idiot who just had his balls stroked.

“I’m not going,” I’m quick to let them know. The last thing I need is to get my dick handed to me because of Becca Carmichael and her free love proposition. “I want Vi. That’s the only girl for me.”

Braden looks mildly sorry for me. “And that stunt she pulled? You’re okay with it?”

“No. But I’m over it. People make mistakes. She made one. I made one. Hell, I made three more after that. Look”—I lean over and do my best to market myself to Rowen—“all I need is five minutes alone with her. You have to get Sophie to help me. I don’t want to let another year go by without Violet by my side.”

Rowan lifts his brows. “Well, you’re in luck. Sophie convinced Violet that the two of you should speak.”

My heart soars right out of my body, and I’d swear on all that is holy that I could fly out of here if I wanted. I may never touch the ground again.

“When? Tonight?” I slide to the edge of the table, ready to bolt.

Rowen holds a hand up, a dull laugh expelling from him. “Hold your horses. Not tonight.” The waitress comes by with our food, and he waits until she takes off to continue. “Vi said she’ll meet with you next Wednesday.” He grimaces. “Right where it began. Finley Hall.”

“Next Wednesday at Finley.” My stomach grinds like a gear. Finley has quickly become a thing of horror to me.

Braden clears his throat. “Just a head’s up. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Rowen nods. “They’ll be filming at four instead of seven. Make sure you show up, lover boy.” He gives a cheesy wink before taking a huge bite out of his burger.

I will be there.

I have never wanted time to pass more quickly.