“I don't want to hurt her, Rachel. Ever. And she is special. The most special person I've ever met. I want to promise you that her heart is safe with me. But...” He seemed to choke up as his words trailed off.

Wow, he was really intense. It was sort of all consuming. I knew he cared about Maggie. More than I had originally thought. But that didn't change the fact that there was something sad and tortured about Clayton Reed. He seemed to be saying as much with his cryptic half thought.

It worried me.

A lot.

Clay cleared his throat and looked me straight in the eye. “But just know that she's really important to me. The most important thing in my life.” He clenched his fist over his heart. And for a second, I forgot to breathe. How easy it was to forget everything else when confronted by such passion.

It was my turn to clear my throat. “Well, I'm glad to hear that,” I said a little awkwardly. What else was there to say? Just don't go psycho on my BFF, please? That probably wouldn't go over too well. Deep down, I really wanted to like him. But I was still a little unsure, though so far this evening, I had thawed considerably.

My buzz was starting to wane and that just wouldn't do. “Let's go find that keg,” I said, trying to inject some perk back into my voice. I couldn't do serious anymore. I needed to drink and party and forget about my own heartache.

Clay's face relaxed and he seemed just as relieved as I was at dropping our conversation. He followed me into Melissa's house. He seemed uncomfortable and stayed close to my side. We finally located the keg in the garage. I quickly found a cup filled with frothy, beer goodness. Clay looked at the keg as though he expected it to open its jaws and swallow him.

“Do you want anything?” I asked, wondering what his deal was.

“Uh...” Clay looked strange. What was his problem? Before I could give it much more thought we were surrounded by a group of football jocks and the ubiquitous cheerleader or two.

Louis Feldman, the quarterback on the football team clasped Clay's shoulder. I noticed the immediate tension and I had to say I was intrigued by the exchange going on in front of me. Clay was such an enigma; I understood why Maggie was so entranced by him. He had all the makings of the popular boy. Hot as hell, aloof, the sensitive loner type. But he seemed to shun all of that. If my heart wasn't so wrapped up in dumb Daniel Lowe (and if I was a backstabbing bitch) my best friend may have had a fight on her hands when it came to Clayton Reed's attention.

“Dude, you're the new kid, right?” Louis asked. Clay pulled away from him.

“Yeah,” he bit out, looking at the much larger guy with apprehension. I remembered the way he had been targeted by Paul Dewlader his first week of school and I understood his hesitation.

But Louis was a decent guy, if lacking a few necessary brain cells for basic functioning. Louis jerked his head in the direction of the keg. “Wanna do a keg stand? It would be seriously cool.” Clay looked like the guy had asked him to streak naked through the party.

He needed to lighten up. No one could be that uptight and not be miserable. I nodded in agreement. “Go for it, Clay. I really have to see this.” I urged, pushing him in the back as Louis slung an arm around his shoulders in a guy half hug thing that always seemed strange to me.

“I don't think so,” Clay said firmly, trying to pull away. I gave him another playful shove.

“Don't be such a snooze. This is a party! You only live once. What will it hurt?” Okay, I was like some bad afterschool special. When had I become the captain of the peer pressure team? But I really thought Clay needed something to chill him out. His angst was giving me a headache.

Clay wavered a bit and Louis grinned. “Yeah man! Come on!” And Clay allowed himself to be pulled toward the keg.

I stood on the sidelines as Louis and another football player lifted Clay off his feet. I cheered him on as Clay guzzled beer from the tap. See? I was bonding with the guy. I was such a good friend, trying to be all buddy-buddy with the boy my best friend was into.

Or maybe not.

The next few minutes were a bit of a whirlwind. One minute I was chanting Clay's name, the next Daniel was pulling me toward the garage door. I tried to wrestle against Daniel's grip and I could see Maggie intercepting Clay over his shoulder.

What was going on?

“Let go of me!” I yelled, once we were outside. Daniel dropped my arm like it burned him and glared at me. I pulled myself upright and leveled my own glare right back. Two could play this game, butt hole.

“What was that back there? Encouraging people to get alcohol poisoning isn't normally your thing.” Daniel's words were hard and brittle and I lifted my chin.

“I was just getting the poor guy to have some fun. You should thank me for helping to pull the stick out of his ass,” I griped, turning my back on Danny and swiftly walked away. I made my way around the side of the house and found a swing set.

I was feeling obnoxiously sober and I didn't want to be. And I sure as hell didn't feel like spending said sobriety with Daniel Lowe when he was being condescending and preachy.

Of course, he followed me. Because alone time was asking too much. “Danny. Please. Just give it a rest,” I pleaded, not above begging him to back off. My head was starting to hurt and my happy fun time was clearly over.

Now that Daniel and I were alone, I was starting to feel the mortification for my earlier behavior. I had been a little too obvious in my dislike for Kylie. Raging bitch isn't usually my color and I couldn't believe how easily I had worn it. My jealousy issues were getting a little out of hand and I knew if I didn't get it together, I would be in danger of losing one of my longest and most important friendships.