Logan skidded off the road with a jerk of the handlebars and bumped along the rocky edge until the bike slid out from under him. When he slammed into the ground, there was a distinct “pop” as his shoulder hit hard. A string of curses burst from his mouth as he rolled to his other side.

From the road, there was the sound of the car zooming by, and he tried to pull up his head enough to get a good look at it. The night was too dark; all he saw was that it was a tiny little something, and maybe red.

But it was hard to tell, since his entire field of vision was red with pain. The pop in his shoulder was now a dull throbbing and he couldn’t move it very well. He turned onto his back, staring up at the sky, vaguely aware of how pretty it looked all littered with stars. Standing was out of the question for the moment, so he just looked at the distant twinkling spots instead.

It was entirely possible the twinkling spots were not actually there and he’d hit his head harder than he realized. The shock was still pulsing through him and his mind decided to focus on anything other than what had happened.  In a few months he wouldn’t even be able to see the stars—the actual stars. He couldn’t imagine what that was like.

Logan’s breath was coming out in short bursts, his chest tight as his muscles tensed in reaction to the pain. He closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control. Long deep inhales, slow smooth exhales.

It worked for a few minutes and he alternated calm breathing and staring up at the night sky. But the throbbing was getting worse, and Logan knew he couldn’t lay on the ground forever. He considered his options.

He could call his cousin, Hideki. But Logan was pretty sure he was still at his job working late at the pizza place two towns over.

Who else could he call? With a groan, he remembered his aunt and uncle were out of town.

The one time they’re away all summer, and of course something like this happens.

Logan felt for his jacket pocket with a shaky hand, and unzipped it to grab his phone, thanking his lucky stars twinkling above it hadn’t broken in the fall. He sent a text to Hideki anyway, just in case.

You done with work? I kinda had an accident.

Logan looked over at his bike and let out a sigh of relief. It looked fine. The tightness in his chest loosened a bit. He really didn’t want to spend his first paycheck of the summer repairing it. His shoulder twinged and he grimaced. He’d probably have to use it on repairing himself, instead.

His phone pinged.

Oh, that sucks. Work’s done but at a party in Lakeside. Where are you?

Logan cursed again. All the way on the other side of the lake. It would take him just as long to walk home as it would to wait for a ride. He was only two miles away. On his bike, it would take him less than ten minutes. Walking would be slow and painful, but he could manage. Probably.

No worries, Logan replied. I think I can make it home. I’m not far.

He sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. He was still lying on the ground, staring up at the stars. The silence was calming, but he didn’t want to fall asleep out here. Shaking his head, he slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position. Then, even slower, he held his arm close to his body to steady his shoulder then heaved himself into a standing position.

A hot streak of fire ripped through his shoulder. He pushed at it with trembling fingers, hoping he wouldn’t feel a bone poking out of the skin or anything. It didn’t feel like a broken bone. Not that he’d ever had one, but the pop he’d heard was worrying. Dislocated maybe? There was a lump around his shoulder joint and Logan let out yet another slew of profanities into the dark night.

He plopped back onto the ground, feeling a bit lightheaded all of the sudden. A quick search online revealed popping his shoulder back into place was probably not something he should do alone on the side of the road. But once he got home, his cousin would definitely be up for it. They’d gotten into their fair share of scrapes they’d wanted to hide from their parents over the years, and Logan knew Hideki would do whatever he could to help him. In the meantime, Logan gently unzipped his jacket and let it slide off his arms. Taking a deep breath, he reached behind him to get it, trying not to move his right arm. After tying the sleeves together, he looped it around his neck and slipped his arm in the opening.

It was probably the ugliest sling in the world, but it would have to do for the next two miles. He didn’t usually listen to music while riding home, but he decided he would need the extra motivation and put his headphones in. Looking for the perfect song took a bit of time, and he could only stall the inevitable painful walk home for so long. With the music turned up, he was finally ready to get started. Just as he bent to pick up his bike, a flash of red caught his eye and he turned his head. A car was pulling up on the other side of the road.

It was the first car he had seen since the small and possibly red one had run him off the road. Eleven at night wasn’t exactly rush hour. He still took precautions at night, not that it had helped him tonight. His bright yellow jacket and lights all over the bike would have made him visible from a good half mile away. It hadn’t done him any good earlier, but maybe whoever had noticed him now would offer him a ride home.

His heart sank when he saw it was a brand new Mercedes SUV with vanity plates reading HART<3. With a sigh, he turned off his music, ignoring every bone in his body urging him to run in the opposite direction.

Cassie Hart was the last person in the world he wanted to see right now.

The car door opened slowly, and a blond head popped out, her hair shimmering in the moonlight. Cassie stepped out of the car but didn’t move closer, instead squinting at him from across the road.

“Are you okay?” she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. The cool night breeze whipped her hair around her face, and she pulled it back with both hands.

“Fine!” he yelled back and turned to pick up his bike. He let out a sharp gasp as his body shifted forward. Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away. No way was he going to let Cassie Hart see him cry.

He heard her running across the road but didn’t turn to look at her. Getting his bike upright without screaming in pain was taking all of his concentration. Could he push it along with only one arm? Hopefully.

“What happened?” Her voice was so close, she must have been right behind him. He still didn’t turn around, though.

“Nothing. Just some crazy driver ran me off the road.” The rough and angry voice that burst from his mouth was barely recognizable as his own.

Cassie inhaled sharply. “You’re hurt.”

“Nice powers of observation.” He rolled his eyes, though she couldn’t see it.

Logan knew he was being mean, but Cassie had been mean, too, for the past 6 years. Well, not mean to him, exactly. Their last names of Hanes and Hart meant they’d been sitting next to each other in homeroom since middle school. She’d barely glanced his way their entire lives. Before tonight, he couldn’t have been sure she even knew he existed. So no, she’d never been mean to him. That much was true.

But he’d noticed over the years how she would treat people. She’d be chatty and nice one day, and then ignore them the next. She’d gossip about people sitting just a few chairs away, as if they couldn’t hear her. Cassie Hart was the typical queen bee, head cheerleader, down to the impossibly beautiful face and body, and crazy rich parents.

And, of course, her crazy rich parents would have a lake house. He’d probably even cleaned it a few times. And she wasn’t the only one from Helena Prep that would be up here this summer. The season was just getting started, and by the Fourth of July the lake would be crawling with all the people Logan wanted so desperately to get away from.

But Cassie was the one he really didn’t want to see him like this: dirty, smelling like the restaurant, with his arm in a makeshift sling on the side of the road at midnight.

Why’d it have to be her?

“Logan, do you need help?”

At this, the sound of his name, he finally turned to face her, his brows drawn together at the genuine concern in her voice.

She looked perfect. Of course she did. He couldn’t help but notice how much of her tanned legs he could see thanks to her short jean skirt, so artfully frayed it must have been expensive. A sequined tank top beneath a luxury brand hoodie completed the casual yet sleek look he saw every day on the people he served at the restaurant. She was a walking, talking reminder of everything he wasn’t, and he hated everything about her right now. Even the fact that she was mysteriously being nice to him.

“Why do you want to help me?” he spat, lifting his chin.

She raised an eyebrow, a hand on her hip.

“I realize the impression you probably have of me, but do you really think I’m the kind of person who’d just drive by someone laying on the side of the road?”

It was like a punch to the gut. His head, already fuzzy from the fall and throbbing shoulder, tried to somehow justify his anger towards her.

It was true; he didn’t know her. He’d gone to school with her for years, and they’d never spoken a word to each other before tonight. Had that been entirely because of her? Or was he partly to blame?

“Well, thanks, but I’ll be fine.” He didn’t have the time or energy to deal with the fact that he was probably the one being a jerk right now. Nearly getting run over had to give him some sort of pass for things like that.

As he turned and walked away, he could hear a slight huff of frustration from her. He smiled, despite everything, thinking that he’d actually said no to a cheerleader who wanted to give him something.

He just didn’t think she had anything he really wanted.