A scrunched up napkin smacks my forehead, pulling me out of my thoughts. My gaze lifts to Logan sitting opposite me. His brows are furrowed as he jerks his head toward Lucy sitting next to me. I turn my attention to her; she's focused on her e-reader, her eyes wildly moving from side to side. She uses a fork to pick at her fruit salad, but she doesn't eat it. Actually, she hasn't eaten anything on her tray.

I switch back to Logan. "What's with her?" he mouths.

I shake my head, telling him to leave it alone. Then her cackle of laughter interrupts us. She laughs so hard her eyes start watering.

The sound of it's so infectious I find myself smiling down at her. "What happened?"

"The guy..." She stops to take a breath. "In this book..." We all wait for her to calm down. "Came in his pants while they were dry humping!"

"How awkward," Jake states.

Logan watches her with amusement in his eyes. "What the hell do you read, girl?"

She shakes her head and wipes her eyes. "Oh man, that was good."

-LUCY-

"I have to talk to you about something," he says.

My body immediately tenses. I try to hide my reaction and finish watering the plants on the porch.

He takes a seat on the steps and motions for me to sit next to him. "I don't know how to bring it up and I'm scared that it's going to upset you."

I turn to him now, trying to mask my emotions.

I knew it was coming.

Setting the watering can down by my feet, I take the few steps to get to him. I hesitate a moment, not sure that I'm physically capable of taking the blow he's about to deliver. I find the strength I need before sitting down and taking his hand. "It's okay, Cameron. I understand." I turn my body toward him. "I mean I was expecting it to happen, I just didn't want it to happen so soon."

He looks down at me, his frown consuming his entire face. "So you know what I want to talk about?"

I nod slowly, knowing things were too good to be true. I had to be grateful it lasted as long as it did. "Yes," I answer. "And it's fine. You don't need to spare my feelings. I'm just thankful you came into my life."

He opens his mouth to speak but I interrupt him. "You don't have to tell me, but do you think I could have done anything different? Could I have been better somehow?"

He rears back, his brows bunching. "What are you talking about, Luce?"

"Maybe I kiss wrong or something. Is that it? Or, is it because you wanna kiss other girls? Please don't tell me you've already kissed other girls." I feel the bile rise to my throat, but I push it down.

"Lucy—"

"I know that your friends are like that. I hear the stories, you know—that they go out and make out with random girls, or whatever. Was she just a random girl? I don't know what would hurt more. No—don't tell me. Ple—"

"Lucy—"

"Oh man. I was prepared to be hurt." I suck in a breath and press a hand to my heart. "I didn't think it would hurt this much."

"LUCY, stop!" His voice is loud. Commanding. His hand rises and wipes at my cheeks. Tears. I was crying. I was so overwhelmed with the pain of heartbreak that I didn't realize I was crying. "Baby." His eyes roam my face. "What are you talking about?"

"You." I push his hand away and ignore the look of hurt that washes over him. "You kissing other girls."

He shakes his head slowly. "Lucy, I'm not kissing other girls."

"But you want to, right?"

He fights to contain his smirk. "What the hell is going on in that head of yours?"

"You! You're in my head," I whine. "You used to make out with girls all the time. I know I wasn't your first kiss, and you told my dad that you've never had a girlfriend before so I know that they didn't mean anything to you and now you're sitting on my porch steps and you want to break up—"

"Whoa." He covers my mouth with his hand. All signs of his previous smirk completely gone. "Stop." His breaths are heavier now, matching mine. He slowly removes his hand, cautious of whether I plan to keep talking. "Babe," he sighs. And I start crying again. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. Then he starts laughing.

He's laughing at me crying.

I try to stand so I can kick him in the head and run inside, but he holds on to me tighter. "You're crazy," he states.

I pull away; using strength I didn't know existed. "I hate you!"

He laughs harder, wrapping both arms around me this time.

I should have stood up when I had the chance and kicked him twice. "Stop it, Luce. How the hell could you possibly think I'd be with anyone else but you?" He grasps my shoulders and holds me away from him so he can look me in the eyes. "I'm crazy about you. How can you not see that? How can anybody that sees me with you not see that? Yes, there have been other girls. And yes, they didn't mean anything to me. But you do, Luce. You mean the world to me."

Breathe.

He leans in carefully, as if hesitating. And then he kisses me. Slowly. Softly. And with each second his mouth is on mine, he repairs my broken heart. When he pulls back, his eyes penetrate mine. "Better?" he whispers.

"Yes."

"Good." He smiles and kisses me again, quicker this time. "Are you going to let me speak now?"

I can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yes."

"Okay." He pauses a moment, preparing his next words. "That night you thought Lachlan was sick... and I walked in—"

"No," I interrupt. I look away from him, too embarrassed by what he saw. "If you're asking if I'm still doing it, the answer is no."

"Good. That's good."

Moments of silence pass, neither knowing what to say next.

"Can I ask you something else?"

I can hear the wariness in his voice and it makes me nervous, but I suck it up because he's earned the right to all the answers. "You can ask me anything."

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" I say, even though I know exactly what he's asking.

"Make yourself throw up like that? Is it because you think you're fat—because I can tell you now—"

"No." I turn to him so we're face to face. He likes that—likes to be able to see my face. He says it's because he likes to read me. "When Mom started to get sick, things got hard for me."

"It's okay," he says quickly, "you don't need to talk about it. I'm sorry for asking."

Inhaling a shaky breath, I move closer and let him hold me. "Things got hard. It's like every day passed and I was barely living through it. The sun rose and all I felt was emptiness. It was the same. Every single day she was dying. And every day I was watching. Waiting. And it never seemed to end. I felt like it was happening to me. Her death felt like it was mine. And sometimes I'd cry for hours. Sometimes it would be silent, and other times I cried so hard it made me throw up. The first time I did it, it wasn't intentional. And then it started to happen more, and I started to feel something. Looking back, I don't even know what it was. But it made me feel... alive? And I needed that. At that time, I needed to feel something different. Something that didn't make me feel like I was living in an eternal loop surrounded by death."