As promised, Mr. Montgomery ordered pizza as soon as everyone was finished unloading the van—enough to feed a small army—or half of West Valley’s senior class. But that was how it was at the Montgomery home. Sometimes it was over half the football team, more than twenty-five jocks and their girlfriends, filling the great-room and lounging on the sectional in the corner. Today, however, there were only ten, which filled the home with rowdy laughter that sounded like twice that.

Renee sat at the bar with Samantha and Steven, wrapped in a purple blanket she’d taken from the cabin. It was far too noisy for any of them to hold a conversation, so they sat in silence, trying to ignore Tristan, and his friends who seemed to monopolize the entire room.

Samantha didn’t mind—because it took the attention away from her. Away from the guilt, the jealousy, and the desire she was sure could be seen on her face. Because her mind was preoccupied with something else. Two somethings, actually. One: she needed to figure out what to tell Renee. Because “I let your brother stick his tongue in my throat” didn’t have the right ring to it. And two: she needed to apologize to Steven. Because that’s what it would be. An apology.

She couldn’t be the girl he wanted her to be. She couldn’t like him the way he wanted her to, and she knew that fact would hurt him. She would say it as gently as she could, hoping with all hope they’d still have a friendship when it was over, but she was worried. It was all too much for a girl to take. Too much responsibility, too much stress. So much so that she thought she might have a nervous breakdown, right there in Mrs. Montgomery’s kitchen.

She picked up another slice of pizza, hoping to dull her emotions with carbohydrates, but Steven’s phone buzzed on the counter at that moment. He slid open the call, and held one finger to his ear as he excused himself to the front porch. Everyone was distracted, watching TV or playing pool, and Samantha knew it was the perfect opportunity to talk. She picked up her plate from the counter, then tossed it into the trashcan, intending to follow.

She found Steven sitting on the front sidewalk, still on the phone. Far enough from the house that the distance offered privacy from the rest of the party. Samantha sat down beside him, her feet stretched out to the road, waiting for him to finish his conversation.

“Okay, okay…” He held up one finger. “Yeah, I’ll wait outside.” He said goodbye, looked over at Samantha, and slid his cell back into his pocket. But he didn’t say a word for a good moment. Just stared at her. As though they both waited for the other to speak. A moment passed, and he turned in her direction, resting his elbow on his thigh. “Sorry, that was my mom.”

She nodded, though her throat tightened with anticipation of what to say next, because she had no idea where to begin. She’d never had a boyfriend before, but she imagined this felt much like breaking up. Ironic, considering they’d never even had a first date.

She worried her bottom lip, unable to pull the words from her tongue. But she finally turned to face him, her eyes intense.

“How long have you been here?” she asked, her hands in the warmth of her hoodie’s pocket, pulling at bits of lint to calm her nerves. She closed her eyes, knowing she’d messed things up already. Feeling the tension rush in all around them. “I mean, before we got home?”

He shrugged a little, but his brows furrowed slightly as if sensing her discomfort. “About an hour. I walked here from Mr. Chavez’s class—he wanted help setting up for fall semester.”

“Oh.” She nodded, taking a deep breath before looking down to the asphalt. Not surprised, because this was such a typical Steven thing to do. He was the only kid she’d ever met who still went to school during summer. But she admired that about him. She admired a lot about him.

He turned to face her, swallowing hard before opening his mouth again. “Did you give any thought to my question?”

She looked straight into his eyes, knowing without a doubt he was referring to the proposition he’d given her before she’d left. About becoming his girlfriend junior year, about crossing the bridge from friends, to so much more than that. She looked down to the pavement, to the rocky texture that blurred through unshed tears. This was her chance to speak up, to say she was sorry if she hurt him, but that she couldn’t do it. Because she was falling for someone else, someone who was unexpected, but the exact opposite of everything she ever thought she wanted. She chewed her inner cheek, unable to think properly. “About that—”

“Samantha,” he interrupted, taking her hands in his and squeezing. “Before you say anything, know this—you don’t like me as much as I like you. I know that. But you haven’t really given me a chance.”

“Steven, I—”

But before she could finish her sentence, he grabbed hold of her face and kissed her. Firm and hard—urgent…messy.

The exact opposite of Tristan.

She didn’t know what to do, push him away, hurt him more than she already had to—or stay there. To bear the invasion to save his pride. His tongue pushed inside her mouth. Soft and velvety, but different. She waited for the butterflies to flutter. To grow in her belly and swarm to her lips until the feeling filled her entire body. The way they had when Tristan kissed her—the way they did when he even looked at her.

But they never came.

Tears pooled in her eyes and she squeezed them shut. Partly because it felt so wrong, but partly because she wanted it to feel so right. She prayed for her mind to go blank, to replace all the wild thoughts with something safer. With Steven. With the boy who did homework on the weekend. Who didn’t have girls hanging on his arms every second of the day. But she couldn’t.

Nothing came. No butterflies. No tingles. And eventually she pushed at Steven’s chest, not hard, but hard enough to break away.

He scooted down the sidewalk, a good foot away, and looked down at his feet. A crease stretched across his entire brow, making him look older, upset, or almost angry. She pressed her hot lips together, still swollen and sore from their brief kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said, his voice low, but more emotional than she’d ever heard it.

She nodded, moisture threatening to seep through the corners of her eyes. Because she knew it was the truth. She knew that’s what he wanted, what he’d always wanted. Which was the reason it was so hard to let him down.

“I’m sure it will get better with practice,” he said, almost as though trying to convince himself.

She shook her head, knowing she had to speak up. “Steven—”

But before she could say the words, a bright blue hatchback pulled along the sidewalk.

Steven cleared his throat, quickly standing and dusting off the back of his jeans. “That’s my mom,” he said under his breath.

Mrs. Mathers waved from the driver’s seat, smiling the same infectious smile as her son’s. Steven looked down to sidewalk, where Samantha still sat on the ground.

He offered his hand, helping to pull her up beside him. But his dark brown eyes were searching hers, and seemed to have lost a little of their light.

She swallowed. “Steven, I don’t think this is going to work—”

But one finger came to hush her, pushing her lips closed before she could say more. “You’re confused, I can tell.” He searched her eyes, as if trying to read her thoughts. “Don’t answer now. Don’t answer tomorrow. But when you get all this stuff sorted out in your head”—he cupped the side of her cheek—“call me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by what was happening. He was right. She was confused, but it wasn’t about Steven. Still, she could wait until tomorrow, wait until his mother wasn’t around as a witness—because right now she had bigger demons to face.

When she was finally stood alone on the curb, after Steven had driven off with his mom in her hatchback, Samantha shoved her hands deep into her pockets and headed for the house. She paused when she caught a glimpse of Tristan by the garage door, a two-liter soda in each hand as he walked into the house.

She held her breath, unable to move a muscle. Had he seen them? Had he watched them kissing? Her heart pinched with fear and she stopped at the front step. It had been the briefest of kisses, so much shorter than the one they’d shared in the woods. But if he’d been there for longer than a few minutes…

She bit her lower lip, not allowing herself to think like that, and walked back into the house.

When she entered the great room, her heart instantly eased. Tristan was laughing and joking with his friends, playing pool with Beef, and looked exactly like he had last time she saw him. Relaxed and confident, like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he was the brightest star in the sky, and everyone had the privilege of dancing in his light.

She took a seat next to Renee, relieved but still breathless, and took another slice of pizza. The whole ordeal with Steven made her ravenous…and despite still having one conversation left to go, she took a bite of her pizza.

Renee leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “How’d it go?”

Samantha only lifted her shoulders and locked eyes on the television screen. A rerun of I Love Lucy caught her attention as she started chewing.

“Did you tell him?”

Samantha shook her head. “No—not yet.”

Renee let out a heavy sigh, picked up her paper plate and jumped down from her barstool. “I can’t take it anymore. They’re too loud, and I have a headache. Are you staying the night?”

Samantha swallowed, knowing her time to procrastinate was coming to an end, and glanced over one shoulder to nod at her best friend. “I think so.”

Renee tossed her plate into the metal trash can, adjusted her blanket, and headed for the stairs “Okay. I’ll pick out a movie. Hurry up, okay?”

“Okay.”

She took another slice of pizza, adding more to her plate that already held too much. But she wasn’t ready. How could she tell Renee about what happened? To tell her she’d kissed her brother, and that she wasn’t even sure it would be the last time.

Tristan was still playing pool behind her. Joking with his friends, occasionally laughing, and already she craved his attention. For him to sit beside her, too close, like he had in the woods. She craved more than that though. She wanted to talk to him. To get to know him—the way others never took the time. But all that would have to come later. She swiveled in her chair, ready to jump to the ground and find Renee, but immediately stopped.

Tristan was standing straight across from her. His arms were braced on either side of the pool table, and the brunette who had told him about her keg was standing right in the middle. His lips were lifted in a flirtatious smile, and his hips were pressed against her body, pinning her in place as if staking a claim. He leaned forward until his lips touched the side of her ear.

They were too close. Much too close for it to be innocent, and no excuse Samantha could come up with would explain what he was doing. She’d seen it a thousand times. Tristan standing too close to other girls. Too flirtatious, too—much. Pizza began to climb up her throat, making her nose burn with heartache and humiliation.

She didn’t understand it. How could he be one way with her, yet brazenly flirtatious with another woman while she sat less than ten feet away? A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, not allowing herself to cry over him.

She finally hopped down from the chair and tossed her paper plate and the rest of her food in the trash. She felt dizzy, broken, and sick to her stomach—but she somehow made it to the staircase.

Before she allowed herself to climb, she turned around, and found Tristan watching her. His hands were still on either side of the brunette, his hips still pinning her in place. Samantha didn’t look away. She needed to see it. To burn the image of him like this in her memory. Because she would never again fall for a guy like Tristan. Not even for a moment in the woods, not even when the timing was so perfect it seemed to come from a fairy tale.

Tristan looked down to the girl held in his arms and smiled. He whispered something in her ear, then picked up his cue stick and began playing pool again, leaving her dazed and smiling. She was the next girl to sit too close to Tristan Montgomery, but that was her problem.

Samantha finally made it to Renee’s room, where she crawled into bed beside her best friend and nestled under the covers. The opening credits to The Notebook were playing on the large screen, and a box of tissues was front and center in the middle the queen sized bed.

Samantha let the top of her head fall to her best friend’s shoulder, fighting back tears that still clogged the back of her throat. “I’ve decided I’m going to say yes to Steven.”

Renee sat up, grabbed the remote, and paused the movie. She turned to Samantha and looked into her eyes, studying her in a way that was all knowing. “Are you sure?”

Samantha squared her shoulders and nodded, because she’d never been surer in her life. Steven was honest and stable, and would wait for her for all eternity. Until just a moment ago, she hadn’t realized how important that was. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Renee bit her lower lip, then looked down to the bed. There was no hiding the fact she was disappointed, but when she looked up again, she grabbed Samantha’s hands and squeezed them with her fingers. “Is that why you’ve been acting so weird all day? Because you’ve been afraid to tell me?”

Samantha looked down to the sheets, knowing that hadn’t been the reason at all, but Renee tightened her grip on her hands, forcing her to look back up again.

“Never,” Renee began. “Never be afraid to tell me anything again. You’re my best friend, and if Steven is the boy who makes you happy, I’m ecstatic for you. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

Renee pulled Samantha into her arms, and the tears she’d been holding for too long landed on her best friend’s shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Renee asked, “You’re worrying me.”

Samantha nodded, plucking a tissue from the box and wiping her nose before sitting back against the headboard. “I’m fine. I must be close to my period or something.”

Renee searched her face for another second, as though trying to figure out what this all was about. “Do you still want to watch the movie?”

Samantha looked into her best friend’s eyes and nodded, maybe a bit too vigorously. She sank down deep into the pillows. “I want that very much.”

Renee un-paused the movie, nestling deep under the covers next to Samantha—but it felt different. There was a secret between them for the first time, one Samantha would never share. There was no reason to anymore. That night on the lake with Tristan, that kiss, was just one mistake, one stupid and vulnerable moment that had the potential to hurt forever. It would never happen again, of that she would make sure of.