We didn't say much on the drive home. I wouldn't say the atmosphere was awkward but it was definitely different than it had been after the game and before I'd tried to kiss Tasha. When I dropped her off at the end of the street she lived on - because she flat-out refused to let me drop her at the actual house - she gave me a stiff little smile and a thank-you for inviting her to the game. I opened my mouth to say something, to keep her with me for a few more seconds, to hopefully arrange another date but she was gone before I could find the words. I watched her in the rearview mirror, walking down the sidewalk with that same purposeful gait she'd had in the parking lot outside the grocery store all those years ago.

I should have been pissed off. I was pissed off. A little, anyway. I'd invited her to a damn football game, not given my consent to being interrogated. But no matter how hard I tried to stay annoyed, I couldn't. Someone had hurt Tasha Greeley. I didn't know who it was but it couldn't have been more obvious. Knowing that just made me want to comfort her. It made me feel like an ass for trying to kiss her. And it made it almost impossible to stay mad at her.

My parents were already home when I got in. My mom got up and gave me a big hug.

"Great game, Kaden. You were even better than usual tonight."

Then my dad stepped in to bro-hug me. "The NFL scouts were there again, son. If they haven't already got a detailed plan for you I'll eat my hat. I'll eat ten hats."

Hm. The NFL scouts. There were at almost every single one of my games those days. Everyone knew they were there for me, too. Colleges were already sending me letters about their programs, brochures full of photographs of smiling students. Most of them included scholarship offers. My parents had already floated the idea of hiring an agent but at that point, it still didn't feel real. What if I got injured? What if I was just peaking early? It's not like that didn't ever happen.

"So who was the girl?"

"Huh?" I asked, snapping out of my own thoughts at the sound of my mom's voice.

"The girl," she smiled. "Aaron Sokolsky's mom said she was sweet. Clueless about football but sweet. I've never seen her before - is she new in town?"

"Uh, no," I replied, nervous in a way I'm usually not when my parents give me one of their good-natured grillings on my personal life. "She - she grew up here."

"Did she? Huh."

"Well she lives on the other side of town and we don't really - there's not much crossover in our cliques."

"Hm, OK. Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you a sandwich or something?"

I wolfed down the sandwich in record time, told my parents I was tired and headed up to bed. It wasn't a lie, I was kind of tired. But I also had to jerk off really badly. Tasha in her goddamned leggings. Just sitting next to her on the hill after the game had made me so hard I'd barely managed to conceal it. The images of her in my mind were relentless. There was something so delicious about her body, something that made me want to put my fist through a wall just thinking about her.

I tried to make it last. I wanted to keep her there in my mind, the image of her lips when she smiled, or the firm curve of her ass when she'd walked up the stairs ahead of me at the stadium. It didn't work. I lasted about ten seconds and came so hard it made my head spin. Then I tripped getting out of the shower and bruised my hand on the countertop trying to break the fall. I stumbled into my bedroom laughing under my breath at myself and fell into bed.

Whatever Tasha Greeley's deal was, I was going to get to her. Giving up wasn't an option. If she wanted to test me then she could test me. She wasn't like any of the other girls in school. Almost all of them would have been offering themselves up on a silver platter up there in the hills after the game. Not Tasha. I was going to figure her out.

The next day at school, between first and second period, I found Kelsey Richards waiting for me at my locker and only just managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. When was this girl going to get it? I didn't say anything to her at first.

"Hey, Kaden."

"Hey," I replied curtly.

"What's up?"

Even her voice annoyed me, a high-pitched little sing-song. She sounded like a five-year-old. "Not much."

"Who was that at the game last night - that girl? Is she your-"

I turned to Kelsey suddenly and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Kelsey!"

"What?" She asked, smiling hopefully.

"Why the fuck are you always following me around?" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down. "We're not dating, do you understand that? I didn't promise you anything, I never told you I was interested in dating. I mean, did I?"

"Well..." Kelsey started. She couldn't get the rest of her words out. I watched her face crumple and her eyes fill with tears and to be perfectly honest it just made me even angrier. Why was this dumb girl's obsession my problem?

But then something else happened. The image of Tasha's face crossed my mind. I wouldn't want her to see me speaking to someone like I was speaking to Kelsey then. Even thinking about Tasha witnessing the scene made me feel ashamed. I even managed, when I looked back at Kelsey's mascara-smudged face, to feel what I think might have been compassion.

"OK," I said to her, softening my voice. "OK, Kelsey, I'm sorry. Just - just come sit down and let's talk about this, alright?"

She sniffled and nodded her head, allowing me to lead her into an empty classroom.

"Listen," I said when we were seated across from each other. "Kelsey I know I've been an asshole to you. That's on me. I guess I've just been avoiding telling you the truth, because I didn't want to hurt you. I mean, it was probably just because I'm a coward," I continued, wondering why the fuck it was suddenly so important to me to tell the truth. Was it Tasha? She wasn't even there to witness my act of brutal honesty. I put my head in my hands as Kelsey reached out and rubbed my shoulder.

"It's OK, Kaden," she whispered. "You're not a coward."

I looked at her, disbelieving. Had she not heard what I said at the lockers? That I was in no way interested in a relationship? "No. It's not that, Kelsey. It's not about whether I'm a coward or not. It's about the fact that I'm not, uh, I'm not into you in that way."

I couldn't even catch her eye. A few seconds passed and she finally spoke up. I could hear her trying to keep the wobble out of her voice. "Oh. OK, Kaden. Well, I mean, it doesn't have to be, like, a relationship-relationship. You know?"

I knew. She was offering herself up for sex. Just like she had a few months ago when I'd stupidly gone for it and created the situation I was now dealing with. "Yeah, it's not that either, Kelsey. I'm not interested in any of it, do you understand? We never should have hooked up in the first place. If I knew you had feelings for me, I wouldn't have done anything with you." A lie. I'd slept with Kelsey because I was horny and because she was there. There was no other reason beyond my own laziness.

The door was only a few steps away. I had to get out of there. Kelsey looked up at me like a lost kitten and started to cry again. Fuck. I can't deal with girls crying. "Listen," I said. "I have to go to class. I just wanted to be honest with you, OK? You should find someone who wants to have a real relationship with you, Kelsey. You deserve that."

I stood up and began edging myself towards the door as she sat at the table wiping her eyes. "But I don't want a relationship with anyone-"

"I have to go!" I cut in, desperate to just get away from her. "I hope you, uh, I hope you feel better. I'm sorry if you thought this could have been something more but it can't OK?"

Back out in the hallway I slumped against a door and exhaled. Shit, that was difficult. It was also, for me, almost totally out of character. I operated under the assumption that girls knew who I was. Most of them did. Most of them knew perfectly well that a make-out session at a party or a drunken blowjob was going to be just that and nothing more. I needed to stay away from girls like Kelsey. Definitely more trouble than they were worth.

Days passed. I kept my eyes out for Tasha but I didn't see her. It was odd not to see her - even if we didn't actually have any classes together I knew where her locker was and I used to see her a few times a day most days. Not that week. Was she avoiding me? Why hadn't I gotten her phone number? By the time the next week rolled around I was getting so pre-occupied with her whereabouts that a couple of my friends even noticed and asked me what was up. I denied that anything was up.

The next day, I spotted Tasha outside the school, on her way to the bus stop. She was with one of her friends. I ran to catch up with them and called her name. When she turned around I could see she was upset.

"Hey," I said, obviously having blundered into a serious conversation. "I, uh, I was wondering where you were. Didn't see you last week."

Tasha's friend gave her a look. "I'll let you two talk. Call me or message me later Tash, OK?"

"Is something wrong?" I asked, as Tasha's friend walked on ahead. "You look-"

"No." She cut in. "Nope. I'm fine. How are you?"

Goddamn, there was that tone again. I hated it. That I-have-better-things-to-do-than-talking-to-you tone. It was almost impossible to respond to.

"I'm good,' I replied. "Won another game this weekend. I threw three touchdowns." Ugh. I sounded like a little kid trying to impress one of the grown-ups.

"That's cool," Tasha said, looking at the time on her phone and clearly uninterested in how my game went.

An awkward silence descended before I blurted out another question, inviting her to the game the following weekend.

"I don't think so, Kaden," she replied, and it was like I could actually feel my heart sinking in my chest. "I'm pretty busy this weekend."

Damn. Is that how it felt to all the girls I blew off like that, with an obvious lie? I definitely wasn't used to being on the receiving end of that. The thought occurred to me that I would rather have been slapped in the face than have Tasha giving me that look, the one that said she was just waiting for me to leave her alone.

"Are you?" I asked, making a fool of myself but somehow unable to stop. "I could come pick you up if you want, and take you home right away. We could-"

"Kaden!"

"What?"

"What part of 'I'm busy' don't you understand?"

She was angry. I could hear her breathing getting faster. When I didn't answer she jabbed her finger into my chest and just tore right into me.

"I'm not Kelsey Richards, OK, Kaden? Do you get that? I'm not Kelsey or any of those other stupid chicks who follow you around like puppy dogs and accept the crumbs from your table with a grateful smile, OK? I'm never going to be like that. I'm not interested in worshipping at the altar of the great Kaden Barlow. So why don't you just...why don't you just leave me the fuck alone!?"

I took a step back, genuinely shocked by the vitriol in Tasha's voice. I think she might have shocked herself, too. Her eyes widened and she looked like she was going to say something else but instead she just turned around and ran away. I watched her for a few moments, stunned and considering whether or not to chase after her and demand she tell me what I'd done to warrant her being so angry. But by the time I'd decided against it, she was gone anyway, so I headed home to wallow in the new and unpleasant feeling of being rejected by a girl.