“What did Alex want today.”

“Huh?” Sam looked up from the chemistry text she was studying at the opposite end of her bed.

“He was talking to you at your locker.”

“Oh. He wanted me to go to some party with him.”

I raised a brow. “Hope you let him down easy.”

“Why am I supposed to let him down at all?” she asked. “It’s not a crazy idea. Girls ask you out.”

“But I don’t say yes.” Probably because Sam was becoming my favorite person. The girls I’d flirted with, kissed, teased, faded away.

In fact, the more time passed since Sam had transferred in, the more it felt like she’d always been there. Sometimes Max would come to my house for dinner when I could drag him off his computer, but Sam was becoming a staple, smiling at Annie’s jokes and complimenting my mom’s cooking.

She went back to her textbook and I prodded her with my foot. “Sam, come on. You already have A’s in every science course. You’re going to get into any school you want for pre-med.”

Whatever she'd fallen behind in on account of her family tragedy and the subsequent move she'd more than made up since.

“What do you want me to do.”

“Draw me,” I said, shifting closer to her.

“No.” She toyed with the cuff on the thin sweater the color of blackberries. She'd always preferred baggy clothes, but lately, she'd at least started to buy things in her size.

“Why not?”

“I don’t draw live models.”

I shifted up on my knees, covering her eyes with my hands. “Then draw me from memory.”

She tried to hide the smile, her hands going to my wrists. “What. You think I just sit around thinking about you?”

“Why not? I think about you.”

She pulled my hands away. I watched the flush creep up her face until she broke my gaze. “I need to study.”

That flush had me thinking well after I went home that night.

For weeks I’d lain in bed staring at the ceiling, picturing the way she’d chew on her lip when she was distracted. How her fingers twirled a pencil. The way she’d adjust her backpack at school when she was trying not to comment on something ridiculous.

Tonight was the first time a crazy thought entered the realm of possibility…

Did she think about me?

I was used to girls being interested, but this was Sam.

In my mind she was too cool for any guy. Definitely for Alex.

But seeing her with him today reminded me she was still a girl.

And maybe one day she’d decide she wasn’t too cool for someone.

I managed to hold in my feelings for weeks after that, needing the right time to tell her. But being seventeen and spending every waking second around someone who looked like her, who made me feel like she did, was a special kind of hell.

When I saw the poster for winter formal, I knew I had to move. I felt it, like some cosmic wave.

Sam’s dad and I never exchanged more than a few short words in passing. Today when I knocked on the door, though, he broke all the rules when he said, “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

I sat on the couch across from his chair, wary. “Sure thing, Mr. Martinez.”

“It’s been a difficult time for Samantha. With her mother’s death. You’ve been there for her.”

“I’d do anything for her.”

“Did Samantha tell you she was the one to find her mother when she died?” My stomach dropped. “She came home from school early. She called the ambulance, stayed with her until the paramedics arrived, even though it was already too late.” I swallowed, trying to process. “No child should ever have to see death. To feel that kind of suffering.”

“She’s strong, Mr. Martinez.”

He rubbed a thumb over his trimmed mustache, as if reassuring himself it was still there.

“Before everything, Samantha was a wonderful swimmer. For weeks after, she didn't want to swim. Didn't want to do anything, speak to anyone. The first day she asked to go back to the pool, I was relieved she was showing an interest.” He shifted back in his seat, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee. “When the lifeguard noticed her lying facedown in the pool, he dragged her out. He had to use compressions to get her breathing again.”

My heart stopped. I couldn’t picture Sam purposely hurting herself.

But she did have dark moments. And maybe once, right after her mother…

Could I rule out that she’d been in that place?

“She needs a friend.” The emphasis on the word friend cut through the numbness that’d taken me over. “Someone to be there for her. Who cares for her in a way that’s healthy.”

“I’d never hurt Sam.”

“Relationships can be destabilizing, especially complicated ones. High school is complicated enough for Samantha given all she’s been through. She has a bright future ahead of her, if she can find her way back to her path. Do you know what I’m saying?”

I shook my head, slow. He was wrong about Sam. She was fine. Stable. She had to be.

“I’m asking you to be what she needs, instead of asking her to be what you need.”

No. The reaction streaked through me as his meaning became clear.

This man who’d had his family ripped apart was asking me to care for the one person who meant more than anyone safe.

Keeping my feelings about Sam to myself felt like trying to hold vapor in my hands. If he’d asked me to bottle it for his sake, I would’ve rejected it.

But he was asking me to do it for hers.