I’M FINISHING UP ANOTHER TUTORING session with Ana after school on Tuesday when Alex texts me.

ALEX: are u still around? want to meet me in the workshop?

My heart swells. I fire back an okay before I even question it.

Ever since we skipped school together on Friday, I’ve been finding any excuse to talk to him. In Algebra II, I ask to borrow a pencil even though I have six sitting in the bottom on my book bag. Heat gathers in the pit of my stomach when he waves in my direction in the halls. I consider it a small victory when he texts me first, because at least that means he’s thinking of me, too.

Ana turns my notebook back toward me. “You got those last two equations right.”

I let out a small breath of relief. It’s so much easier when she breaks the steps down for me.

I begin packing up my books. “Thank you. My dad wasn’t exactly thrilled when he saw my progress report.”

Ana smiles. “I’m here anytime.”

I’m standing up, about to say good-bye, when she adds, “Your performance was great on Friday. Alex thought so, too.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, a mix of flattery and fluster. “Oh, um—thank you.”

She grabs her book bag, grinning like she knows something I don’t. “See you next week.”

I wave good-bye, but my mind is replaying what Alex said on Friday: I didn’t think my feelings were that complex. We were so out of sync back then, between Lacey, Jay, and my dad. But things are different now.

Could our timing finally be right?

I walk into the tech workshop, not surprised to see Alex is the only one working late. He’s wearing his double shirts with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms, and a few loose curls fall into his face as he reaches for a screwdriver.

A nervous zing courses through me. God, he’s gorgeous.

My heart stumbles. I catch my breath.

“Hey.”

He looks up, a grin spreading quickly across his face. “Hey!” He steps to the side, then gestures to his creation. “I wanted you to meet Audrey II.”

I’m floored. Alex has really brought this life-size monster plant to life. The shell of the Venus flytrap body is coated in a glossy green paint, and vines twist along the outside of the base. The enormous mouth contains dozens of sharp wooden teeth—painted white—that give her a truly menacing personality.

“I still have some tweaks to work out. I want to make her look more waxy than shiny, but I’ve finally got the pulley system working.”

He walks around to the back, and I follow. There’s a large, gaping hole in the back of the plant-body, and a small bench, and Alex’s slender frame slides in with ease. His right arm reaches for a rope to his right while his feet press down on two different pedals. In an instant, Audrey II’s giant mouth widens.

I marvel at the mechanics of it all. “That’s amazing.”

He eases his grip on the rope, and the mouth closes. “Wanna try?”

“Can I?”

Instead of exiting the gap, Alex scoots over to make room for me. My heart bangs against my chest as I slide in next to him, leg against leg, shoulder against shoulder.

“Okay,” he says, his soft breath tickling my neck. “Press down on both of those pedals and pull the rope at the same time. You’ll feel it give.”

Our fingers touch as he hands me the rope, and a rush of heat fills my body. I blink away the persistent pounding in my ears, using all my strength to pull. I feel it give, just like Alex said.

“You’re a natural.”

I find my voice through my nervousness. “I’ll add it to my list of many talents: Life-sized Botanical Puppeteer.”

Alex laughs, and the vibrations of his body course against mine. When he stops, he looks right at me. His gaze is so intense, so immediate. My chest rises and falls in quick motions, but his does, too. His soft brown eyes are still searching mine, deciphering. Deciding.

I so desperately want him to show me exactly what’s on his mind.

He reaches toward me, his thumb trailing down my jawline. Chills and yearning and desire burst through my chest. Slowly, carefully, he tips his head toward me. His bottom lip brushes mine, a motion that sends raw electricity spiraling through my veins. I take in a sharp breath, closing my eyes as his lips fully cover my own.

That one spectacular motion sets me off.

I devour the sensation, breathing him in. His hands are still cold, but the heat from my body could start a fire between us. I run my hands down the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and his breath hitches in surprise.

All I can think is Alex, Alex, Alex—this is Alex. How long have I wanted this for, and how long have I been denying that I’ve wanted this? His lips are so urgent on mine, but his hands are so gentle. I shiver, tangling my hands through his loose curls before we both gasp, pulling away.

Oh god. We’re still at school. What were we thinking? I mean, clearly we weren’t, but anyone could have walked in. We’re both on thin ice with Mrs. Donaldson. We don’t need to get on anyone else’s bad side.

Alex is flushed, and I imagine I am as well. His hair is rumpled but his eyes are glowing, and I ache to dive back in.

As we collectively try and catch our breath, he turns to me. “Can I ask you something?”

I wonder if he can see the warmth on my cheeks. “Go for it.”

“Would you rather live in this gigantic Venus flytrap for the rest of your life, or give Mrs. Donaldson a pedicure?”

A burst of laughter escapes my lips. I’m still shaky from his kiss, but I try and keep my voice steady. “I’d stay right here.” His hand is still on my knee and when he notices, he blushes. I don’t want him to remove it, but I know it’s probably best to extinguish the flame for now. “God, I don’t even want to imagine touching her feet.”

Alex laughs. “Me, either.”

I sigh. Everything has changed, but it feels so right. So easy.

I turn back to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

He nods.

I take a deep breath, then blurt out what’s been on my mind since we talked about it on Friday. “Why don’t you look into applying to a film school? Or somewhere that has a stronger focus in screenwriting?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. Ana is already set on attending Stanford, and Marlina’s already thinking of transferring to Kansas State. It just seems selfish, I guess.” He shrugs. “It feels like I’m ditching my mom.”

“Does she feel that way?”

“Well, no—”

I give him an encouraging grin. “Then why not go for it? You designed this set for Little Shop of Horrors. You’ve finished screenplays—”

“I was twelve when I wrote those. And they were terrible.”

“They weren’t, but you’re going to write your own pilot someday. And it’s going to be great.” I look at him. “You’re talented, Alex. You should really go for it.”

He looks down at the pedals. “It’s hard, I guess. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard if I wasn’t the youngest.”

“Your mom knows how to adapt to change,” I say. “She’ll be okay.”

He glances up at me. “What about you?”

“What about me?” I repeat.

“I still remember our conversation from that day in the parking lot. You were miserable when you came from practice.”

I stare down at my hands. Caught.

“I think… a part of me doesn’t want to be on the Wavettes,” I admit. “The part of me that stays only wants to in order to be close to Whitney and Raegan.”

“So why don’t you quit? It’s not like you’ll lose their friendship.”

It’s true. It’s scary how true it is, and yet I continue to be the biggest hypocrite. Because this not how my twelve-steps list is supposed to go. I’m supposed to want to be on the Wavettes with my best friends, to earn back their friendship. I’m supposed to want to reconnect with Jay, but I’m falling for someone completely different.

“I guess being part of the team makes me feel like I’m part of their lives again, like I was back in freshman year. Even if it doesn’t feel the same.”

“But… you’re sticking it out until it does feel the same?”

I shrug, not quite committing to a yes or a no.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says. “But why try so hard? To get back to a point in time that maybe wasn’t so great for you?”

My phone chimes with a text. Dad. Almost done with tutoring?

Ever since my outburst with Peach, he’s been keeping a closer eye on me. I’ve caused the walls to go back up between us, but I know the only way to break them down is to apologize to both him and Peach. I still haven’t, and I know that hurts him more than he’d ever admit.

I’m thankful to use my dad as an excuse to exit this conversation. “I should get home.”

His features sink with disappointment. “Yeah, okay. It’s getting late anyway.”

He climbs out of Audrey II, then extends a hand to help me.

I’m reaching down to get my book bag when he says, “Listen… I, uh. It’s just that, if you ever need another Slurpee night, I’m available. You can text me anytime.”

I know his words are coming from a good place, but they fill me with unexpected guilt. Here I am again, avoiding his hard questions by looking for an escape when he’s simply trying to be there for me. And after we just kissed. I hope he doesn’t take it as a rejection, because it’s not.

It’s definitely not.

He’s asking the questions I should have been asking myself all along. “Thank you,” I say, and I hope that he knows I mean it.

He smiles, but his face doesn’t light up like it did before.

With one last glance, I do the only thing that comes easy. I leave.