“Do I have to go to this party?” I ask Scarlett for probably the third time since we left the game.

She groans in frustration. “Yes! Your best friend just got engaged, and she’s expecting you to come celebrate with her. Stop being a whiny bitch!”

That’s the thing I love about Scarlett. Like Peyton, she doesn’t sugarcoat things. If you’re acting like a whiny bitch, she’s going to tell you, and she isn’t going to be nice about it. “Okay, okay. Sheesh. I’ll shut up now.”

“Good girl,” she says with a grin as she parks her car. The canary yellow bug is as loud as her clothes and hair. No one could ever accuse Scarlett of wanting to be in the background.

The four of us climb out of her car and see Max and Clay talking at the foot of the stairs. They stop talking just before we reach them, and we walk up the stairs together, them letting us go first. The door to Wyatt’s apartment opens just as we reach the landing, and Peyton moves to let us walk by. “Hey guys,” she says happily. She’s beaming, showing off her ring to each of us girls as we walk by.

“Hey babe. You ready to leave that bastard you’re living with to run off with me yet?” Clay flirts, and I turn to see him wiggle his eyebrows at her. Saying that would normally have Wyatt kicking his ass, but I’m sure he’s too happy to care about Clay running his mouth like an idiot.

She laughs. “Not even close.” Peyton looks back toward the living room and says, “Go on in, y’all. Make yourselves at home.”

We walk into the homey living room, and can see Wyatt and Sophie standing at the bar separating the room from the kitchen. Sophie is talking animatedly, her hands flying all over the place. Max goes straight over to her, and Scarlett and Annabelle squeeze onto the love seat, while Becca stretches out on the floor.

Clay takes a seat on one side of the couch, and not wanting to sit on the floor; I sit beside him. He smiles smugly at me as he stretches one arm out along the couch behind me. Pretty soon, Max and Sophie come in too, taking the rest of the couch, with Max beside me and her on his other side. The only seat left in the living room is an old, oversized chair that Wyatt sits in, opening his arms for Peyton to sit in his lap.

We’re all comfortable here, thanks to the monthly movie nights we’ve been having since Peyton and Wyatt moved in last July. Usually, those nights end up being girls against boys, fighting over whether we watch a chick flick, an action movie, or a horror flick. Clay loves horror movies; I think mainly to scare me to the point I almost pee myself every time.

Once everyone is settled, Peyton says, “Thanks guys for being there with us tonight.” She smiles, almost shyly, and Wyatt echoes her words. We all wave off her thanks, happy we could be there for their moment, and Peyton jumps back up. She’s got more energy than usual thanks to her happiness. “Oh! I should have brought out some wine or something so we could have a toast!”

Wyatt laughs as she runs into the kitchen and starts searching through cabinets. “Baby, I bought champagne earlier. It’s in the fridge.” She squeals, jerking the door open and grabbing it.

He gets up to help her, but she shoves him away. “I’ve got this. Go. Sit down.” Before he leaves the kitchen, she pulls him back and goes up on her toes so she can kiss him. “Husband-to-be,” she murmurs against his lips.

“If you two are going to be disgusting,” Clay complains, “I’m going home.” Wyatt shoots him a glare, then waits for Peyton to start filling glasses so he can pass them out. Once we all have glasses, and Peyton’s back in his lap, he raises his glass, looking at Clay pointedly. Clay rolls his eyes but lifts his glass too. “To Wyatt and Peyton. May your life be full of sex, booze, and more sex!” Spoken like a true should’ve-been-a-frat-boy.

We all groan, but then Wyatt laughs, clinking his glass against Peyton’s. “I guess that’s as good a toast as any. I’m down for the sex and more sex at least.” Peyton blushes, hiding her face in his neck, but it’s not like we didn’t already know they sleep together.

She sits back up and glares at Clay. “Anyway. Who wants to watch a movie?” She doesn’t wait for our agreement, which tells me she already has a movie in mind. Sure enough, she goes straight for the TV and turns it on. Grabbing the remote, she dims the lights, then goes back to sit with Wyatt and press play to start it.

Clay groans when the beginning credits start. “Are you kidding me? A love story? Why?” He shifts beside me, clearly uncomfortable.

We all laugh at his outburst, but the longer the story plays, the more I understand his discomfort. The movie is about two people who have a one-night stand that turns into more, and I can’t help but think about the night I spent in his bed—and the dream I wish I hadn’t remembered. He’s sitting so close to me, the heat from his body making me almost too warm, and the scent of his cologne bringing all those memories to the surface.

I shift so there’s a little more space between us, but that just moves me closer to Max, another uncomfortable prospect. When I move closer, he moves so his arm is no longer along the back of the couch, much like Clay’s, only behind Sophie, instead of me.

“Kat, we need to talk.” His voice is so low I almost don’t hear him, but I can feel his breath against my ear.

“About what?”

He scoffs. “I don’t know. Maybe about the fact that you’re punishing me for hooking up with Sophie, or for forgetting to pick you up that day. I’m not sure which it is, honestly.” I roll my eyes, but his next words make me freeze. “Or, maybe we need to talk about the stuff Scarlett said earlier in the dining hall. The look on your face when she opened her mouth freaked me out.”

I grit my teeth, not wanting to lash out at him here in front of everyone. Why is it always about him, about how he feels? It’s like he doesn’t care about my feelings at all. Like I shouldn’t be mad he “forgot” to pick me up. Why is he so oblivious about that, but fixated on my facial expression earlier tonight?

When I don’t say anything, he becomes angry.

“C’mon Kat. This is ridiculous.” His voice comes out strained. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you’ve been acting like a bitch for two weeks now. What gives?”

I flinch at the word bitch, and notice Clay flexing his arm out of the corner of my eye. I turn to see him giving Max a dirty look, and I know he’s seconds away from stepping in. I don’t want Clay of all people fighting my battles, and the look on Max’s face makes me so mad. I jump up from my seat on the couch and Max does the same. Walking over to stand in front of him, I put both hands on his chest and shove as hard as I can, forcing him to step back.

“You’re an asshole; you know that?” I yell at him. The room goes silent, and I can look around to see everyone staring at us. Peyton’s pauses the movie, her mouth dropped open as she stares at us. Scarlett looks proud, and Becca is busy texting, not caring in the least about the drama going down in front of her. I don’t look at either Clay or Sophie, embarrassed beyond belief at my outburst, but needing to get the words out.

I poke Max in the chest and tell him, “I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” I spit out from between gritted teeth. “How is it possible everyone around us knows but you don’t?”

“Knows what?” Max asks, looking first at me, then over to Peyton and finally Clay. “What do you mean what you saw in me?” He looks so confused, and I almost feel sorry for him, but I’m still just so angry!

I push up on my toes so I can get in his face, forcing him to meet my eyes when I tell him, “I’ve been in love with you for years, you jerk.” Max’s eyes grow so wide the whites of his eyes are visible all the way around his irises.

“Wait,” he pleads, backing away from me like I’ve just told him I have a contagious disease and anyone within touching distance is sure to get it. Gah, I must be channeling my inner Anna right now, because that’s so something she would say. “You’re not in love with me,” he states, panic making his voice more high-pitched than normal. “That’s, that’s just not possible. You can’t love me, Kat. Take it back.”

Peyton sucks in a breath, and I watch as she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes bouncing back and forth between us. Everyone in the room, aside from Becca—and what’s up with that?—is riveted, unable to look away, or heaven forbid, leave the room. “Take it back? Take. It. Back? What the hell, Max? Love isn’t something you can just ‘take back.’ You’re an idiot.” I pause, swallowing hard as my eyes fill with tears. My voice is thick when I speak again. “You had to know. I’ve been following you around like a lovesick puppy since we were fourteen. You never wondered why I didn’t have a single boyfriend? Why I said no to every date I was asked on? None of that ever clued you in?” He can’t be that dense, can he?

Max rubs a hand across the back of his neck in discomfort, then his shoulders slump, and he releases a heavy sigh. “I knew you had a crush on me in high school,” he admits. I scoff at the word “crush”, and he ignores is. “But Kat, that’s all it ever was. You’re not in love with me; you just wanted to be.” I know he did not just tell me I don’t know what my feelings are. Ohmigod. Yes, yes, he really did.

“Well,” I start, putting a hand on my cocked out hip, “I’m so glad I have you to tell me my own feelings. I should have told you years ago what I thought I felt so you could correct me.”

He backs away from me, and suddenly, Sophie is standing beside him, her arm wrapped around his waist as she glares at me. “I know you did not just tell my boyfriend you’re in love with him. I’m standing right here!” Oh shit.

Before she can say anything else, Clay moves so he’s standing between us. “Okay, that’s enough.” Since when is Clay the voice of reason? I feel like I’ve entered this alternate universe where the guy I thought was one of my best friends has turned into a complete dick, and the guy I thought was a complete dick has become my protector. I’m suddenly exhausted, and all I want is to go home.

I turn to Peyton. “I’m so sorry for ruining your night.” Her sad eyes look back at me, and she pulls me into a hug.

“Oh Kat, you didn’t ruin anything.” Her voice is beside my ear when she says, “I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself. One day he’ll realize what he’s throwing away, and he’ll regret it. It might not be tonight, or next week, or even next month, but he will realize it. Trust me.”

Her words make the tears that dried up at his dickish words fill my eyes once more, and I want to get out of here before I start bawling. I meet Scarlett’s eyes over Peyton’s shoulder and mouth, “Will you take me home?” She nods and gets up out of her seat.

Peyton releases me and looks over at Max. “Are you happy now?” she asks him. I don’t look back to see his reaction to her words, but he must look as miserable as I feel because Peyton looks satisfied.

“Kat,” he starts, but Clay cuts him off.

“Not tonight, Max.” His voice is gruff, and I’m almost overcome with the urge to hug him. I want to thank him for taking my side, for putting himself between his brother and me. I don’t get the chance though, because Scarlett walks over and grabs my hand. She starts to lead me toward the door, but just before she opens it, Clay is standing beside me, looking down at me with concern in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes studying my face. I nod, unable to answer verbally thanks to the lump in my throat. “You sure?” he presses.

I clear my throat, but my voice is still thick when I reassure him. “I will be.” He looks conflicted for a second, then pulls me into a brief hug. He doesn’t say anything else to me, and just that small gesture rocks my foundation. Aside from that one time-that-shall-not-be-named, I’ve only ever thought of Clay with loathing. It’s a strange feeling to associate any good emotions with him. Before I can think better of it, I put a hand on his shoulder and reach up to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks, Clay.”

He just looks at me. “For what?”

“For what you did in there. For stepping in front of me. You didn’t have to do that, so thank you.” He looks away, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink under his tan. He doesn’t say anything else, and I let Scarlett lead me out into the cold air.

She doesn’t say anything until we’re in the car and pulling out of the parking lot. “So, that whole bit with Clay was weird, huh?” I make a non-committal sound, and she must realize I don’t want to talk about it because she only smiles.

When we pull up to the dorm, she doesn’t get out with me since she has to go back to get the other girls. Just before I shut the door, she says, “Did you ever consider that you’ve been pining after the wrong brother all this time?”

I lean back into the car to look at her in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

Scarlett laughs. “Not even a little bit.” She faces forward, not saying anything else, and finally I shut the door so she can leave. I stand outside the dorm in the cold air, watching her speed away, and wanting to forget her question, but as I turn to walk inside, I can’t help but wonder, is she right?