My senior year of high school, everything went to shit.

It started out better than I could’ve expected, giving the false illusion that Isabelle and I really did stand a chance despite my darkest, nagging fears. After I returned to the academy in Texas, I called her every single night. Her aunt gave her a pay-as-you-go cell phone once she returned to Vegas, so our conversations were less limited when she wasn’t home to take my calls on a landline.

And on Thanksgiving, my grandma sent me a ticket to Vegas.

It was on the condition that I fly to New York for a few days before the end of my break, but I didn’t give two shits what stipulations were involved. I’d submit to another round of my father’s beatings if that’s what it took for another chance to see my girl.

Originally I was going to surprise Isabelle and just show up at her apartment, but Grandma Caroline insisted that it would be bad manners to simply appear without making arrangements to stay with them. When I first told Isabelle she seemed hesitant, as if she was worried I’d judge her by where she lived. Then we started planning what we’d do the two and a half days I was there and her excitement grew.

My flight was scheduled to leave Christmas morning, but a freak ice storm delayed it for several hours, and my plane didn’t touchdown in Vegas until after dinner. I was pissed that I’d lost half a day of the already short trip, but my anger dissolved the minute I found her waiting for me by the baggage carousels, holding a small piece of paper with “MY ROMAN” written in her handwriting.

Breath caught in my throat, I allowed myself a moment to revel in the sight of my girl. She was anything but ordinary by then. Her smooth skin glowed with the same deep tan she had in Tahoe. She only came up to my shoulders, but carried herself in a way that made her seem bigger. For the first time I could remember, her dark hair hadn’t bleached over summer, and it hung in large, sexy curls that fell just past her tits.

Overall she was smaller than most girls her age, but the memory of exploring her slight curves and narrow waist had me all at once harder than the candy cane I had taped to the top of her present. Then she smiled at me, and the spark in her dark eyes made the noisy airport go silent. I loved her more than anything.

She launched herself into my arms and we collided with hungry kisses that elicited a few cheers and snickers.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” I whispered once we came up for air.

A soft cry slipped from her lips as she squeezed her arms around my waist. “I never thought I’d hear you say that to me in person.”

“Better get used to it,” I said with a quiet chuckle. “If I have anything to say about it, we’ll get to do this every year.”

I was aware that I was always making promises to her that could be difficult to keep, but I hoped by saying them out loud it would somehow help to make them true.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that she had driven by herself to get me. Things got hot and heavy in her aunt’s boyfriend’s car before someone from security banged on the window and told us to get moving. But she surprised me once more when we arrived at their tiny little apartment with the news that her aunt and Chris were working for the night. We had the place all to ourselves.

We spent hours making out before breaking in her sad little twin bed. Neither of us had slept with anyone else, so we couldn’t imagine the sex could get any better. I learned how to get her off on the Fourth of July, and managed to do it once again before I came in one of the dozen condoms stashed in my suitcase. I sang some of the songs I had written for her, and she made me pancakes in the middle of the night before we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It was the best Christmas ever.

Early in the morning we showered together. Seeing her under the water like that had me painfully hard, but everything was a little too slippery, so we dried off and managed to get dressed before her Aunt Joey and Chris returned.

Though Joey was excited to see me, hugging me and giving me a t-shirt from the casino where they worked as a Christmas present, her boyfriend watched me with a suspicious glare. Balding with wrinkles around his eyes and a fat gut, he looked to be several years older than Joey, and seemed to play a fatherly role to both girls. He was nice enough to Isabelle, but there was something about him right away that left me uneasy. Simply put, he gave me the creeps.

The plans Belle made to show me around Vegas were forgotten once Joey and Chris went to sleep for the day. Instead we camped out on the couch in her living room for a marathon of Christmas movies, making out every now and then. I was just as content eating popcorn with her in my arms and singing along with the commercials as I would’ve been sightseeing.

It was my first time visiting Vegas and I didn’t really know what to expect, but their neighborhood was especially rundown. The apartment complex was a literal hole in the wall. We could hear her neighbors arguing through the thin walls, and the windows weren’t thick enough to keep out the busy sounds of the wild city as night drew near. I hated that she lived there. I would’ve given anything for the chance to take her back to Texas with me.

Her aunt wanted to make up for the fact that she hadn’t been able to spend Christmas night with Isabelle, so once they were awake, she treated us to a buffet at one of the casinos. I sweated through the entire meal beneath Chris’s critical stare, and was relieved when Isabelle announced after that we were leaving to explore The Strip.

As the sun set and the city became alive with bright lights, I was ready to drag Isabelle back to the airport with me. She seemed all too comfortable with the heated stares and lewd comments thrown at her by strangers, even though I was holding her fucking hand and her body was modestly covered. It made me sick imagining what it must be like when she was on the streets alone when dressed for warmer weather. At least half the men we passed looked dangerous, like they could be packing under their winter coats.

Then she took me a block off the strip to some seedy-looking bar where the women lined up outside were barely dressed, and I almost lost my shit. The building was one missing brick away from being condemned. I got the feeling the way the girls in line were eye-fucking me that it was the kind of place kids came to hook up. It wasn’t the kind of place I wanted to take my girl.

“Let’s head back,” I told her with a growl, trying to pull her away. “This place doesn’t look safe.”

“Some of my friends wanted to meet you,” she explained, twirling a piece of dark hair between her fingers. “I hope it’s okay.”

My stomach dropped to my feet when I considered it was her usual hangout.

She tugged me back to the entrance where she slapped hands with the bouncer and gave him a friendly greeting. Although the dude was twice my size and covered in intimidating tattoos, I wanted to throw my fist into his ugly face when he threw her a wink as we passed. My blood boiled when I realized the truth—she really did spend a lot of time in the shit-hole with her friends.

Heavy metal blasted from the speakers as Isabelle pushed her way through a crowd that stunk of body odor and weed. It only took a handful of minutes for her to drop my hand and charge toward two scantily-dressed girls making out with guys on the dance floor. One even had her hand down the front of the guy’s jeans like she was jerking him off right there in front of everyone. Both girls wore too dark of makeup, their tits hung out, and their little dresses hardly covered their asses.

All the blood drained from my face with a sudden whoosh. These were the kinds of girls Isabelle hung around? I couldn’t help wondering if she would’ve been doing the same thing as her friends if I hadn’t been there. I almost hurled with the thought.

“Tina! Shawna!” she called to them. “Come meet my Roman!”

Hearing her claim to me temporarily calmed the anger stewing in my chest, but only for a second before the two girls came at me, throwing their arms around my neck and purposely pushing their tits into my chest. They both reeked of booze and swayed on their ridiculously high heels. While Isabelle was talking with one of them, the other one who had been fondling the guy just seconds before stroked my arm and leaned in close.

“Twenty bucks and I’ll suck you off out back, gorgeous,” she purred in my ear. “I normally charge thirty, but since you’re Izzy’s man…”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Her friends were hookers. And that could only mean one thing. Why else would she hang with girls like that?

The world turned red before my eyes when I snatched Isabelle’s wrist and drug her away from her friends.

“Hey!” she cried, looking at her friends over her shoulder. “Where are we going?”

She called my name several times, begging for me to stop, but I didn’t let go until we were outside of the club and around the corner.

“What the fuck, Belle?” I snapped, tightening my grip. “You seriously hang out with those whores?”

Wriggling her arm away from me, her eyes narrowed. “Judgmental much?”

“The blonde one offered to give me a blowjob for twenty bucks!”

“Oh,” she answered quietly, rubbing her wrist as she looked away.

I shook my head and raked my fingers through my short hair. “Is this really how you live?”

Her gaze snapped back to me. “You knew I was poor, Roman. What did you expect?”

“I didn’t expect you’d be hanging around in a place that should be bulldozed with the kind of girls who give sexual favors in exchange for money! Jesus Christ, Belle! Being poor isn’t an excuse for this kind of shit!” Balling my hands at my sides, I sneered. “Is this what you do when I’m not around? Make out with random guys on the dance floor and offer to suck them off for a little cash? Is that how you made your way to camp?” Then, with a surge of red-hot anger ripping through my chest, I asked, “Were you really a virgin before you slept with me, or was that all bullshit?”

Her beautiful eyes filled with an ugly, hateful look that would leave me uneasy for countless years to come, even though I knew at the time that I deserved it for the shit I said. I immediately wanted to kick myself for accusing her of something so crude. How could I say that to the girl I had loved for so long?

“Fuck you,” she spat before turning away from me.

She strode away so quickly that I had to jog after her.

“Belle, wait!”

She spun around, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe after all this time you’d think I'd lie to you about being a virgin! You—of all people! You know me better than anyone!”

“After what I saw back there, I’m starting to doubt that’s true!”

Her lips flattened into a tight line as she started for me, poking my chest. “What about you, huh? You seemed to know an awful lot about kissing the first time we made out! How many other girls were there before me, Roman? How do I know that I was your first?”

Unable to lie to her, I looked away. I knew it was a little late to confess to the hand jobs I was given in Texas a couple of years ago when I was worried that I wouldn’t see her again. I may have been young and dumb at the time, but I still knew it made me a jerk to mess around with anyone else when I already thought of Belle as my girl.

“Do you see what’s happening?” she yelled at me. When I looked back her way, tears streaked her face and her hands were aggressively held out at her sides. “This is the universe showing us why we can’t ever be together outside of camp! You don’t belong in my world any more than I belong in yours! Do you really believe if you took me back to New York with you that I’d fit in with Brooke and your crew, or that someone like me would get accepted into Juilliard? Wake up, Roman! What we have is just a summertime thing! You shouldn’t have come here!”

I should’ve taken her in my arms and told her she was wrong, that things would be different once we were out of high school, but I was still pissed after meeting her friends. I didn’t understand how she could hang with those girls without being disgusted by how they were acting, or at least be outraged that one had propositioned me while she stood inches away.

For the most part I believed that she truly cared about me. I wouldn’t have spent countless hours telling her about my sucky life from the other side of the country if she didn’t. Despite having a hard time with the word “love,” I knew she felt it. She proved it in the way she kissed me when we made love. I knew the adoring way she had looked at me as our bodies joined under the stars, like I was her universe, wasn’t something that could be faked.

Still, a small part of me would always wonder if she was like her friends the other nine months out of the year. Maybe she had tricked me into believing she was someone else.

“You’re right,” I muttered, walking past her in the general direction of her apartment. “Coming here was a mistake.”

We didn’t say a word to each other as she lead the way back. That night I lay on the couch, but couldn’t sleep more than a couple hours with the obnoxious noises of her neighborhood and the traitorous thoughts whirling through my head.

I loved Isabelle and would do anything for her.

But the shit I said to her outside of that club proved otherwise.

And although I had never questioned whether or not she was faithful before, I couldn’t deny that I had my doubts after what I had witnessed.

How well did I really know her?

In the blink of an eye it was morning, and the harsh sunlight was pushing through the cracked blinds in the kitchen. As I was rubbing my eyes, Chris came out of the master bedroom wearing only a pair of boxers.

His nose crinkled when he saw me stretched out on the couch. “What the fuck did you do to Is? She was cryin’ half the night.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood upright. I had no doubt at that point the guy was a slime-ball. It sickened me that Belle was forced to live with him. “None of your fuckin’ business.”

“Seein’ that you’re on my couch, sniffin’ around my girl, I’d say it is my business.”

“She’s not your girl,” I snarled, sitting up with a deadly glare. “Even if you marry her aunt, she still won’t ever belong to you in any way.”

“You think you’re somethin’ special, coming into my home and threatenin’ me?”

He started for me just the way my old man would before he delivered a beating. But I was done with that bullshit. I refused to let this guy hurt Isabelle or me. I rose to my feet and lifted my chin, letting him know I wasn’t going to budge. He was several inches shorter, and there was more fat on him than muscle. I knew I could take him.

Isabelle’s aunt came stumbling out of their room as Chris took a swing. I easily dodged him and locked his head under an arm. Joey’s shrill screams brought Isabelle running.

“Roman, no!” she pleaded, bursting into tears.

Seeing her break down distracted me just long enough that Chris was able to deliver a good right hook into my stomach. The next few minutes that followed were a blur of angry shouts and threats to call the police as Joey pried her boyfriend off me.

I tried to collect Isabelle in my arms. “Does he hit you, Belle? Is he the real reason you didn’t want me coming to see you here? If he hurt you…I swear to God I’ll kill him!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she shoved me away. “Just go, Roman! Leave!” Again when her eyes flipped back open, she gave me one of those dark looks that would haunt my nightmares for endless nights. “You’re making everything worse!”

The rejection stung. I wasn’t thinking straight as I collected my backpack off the floor and ran outside to hail a cab. My flight wasn’t for another five hours, but I knew I couldn’t stay in that shitty apartment any longer—especially the loathsome way Isabelle had looked at me.

By the time I realized I may have lost her for good, I hated myself.

When I landed in New York and found my father waiting instead of my grandmother, my life flashed before my eyes. I would’ve given up my goddamned voice if it meant I could go back and tell Belle that I still loved her with all I had, and that I was sorry I had said all that mean shit. I should’ve stood up to that douchebag Chris and refused to leave until I knew she was okay.

That day when I looked into my father’s eyes, I somehow knew that I’d never see my girl again.