Jake pulls me back to look at me. “You okay?”

   I nod, blushing a little. “What does ‘you got fire’ mean?”

   He laughs, shaking his head. “It means they think you’re hot.”

           JAKE

       We spend another hour or so at the club, but I’m beat from waking up at five in the morning, so we catch a cab home.

   I walk her up to her door, but I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want to spend the night apart.

   “So . . . good night,” she says through a yawn.

   “Good night,” I tell her, pulling her in so I can kiss her temple. I don’t make a move to leave, though. I know I’m in way over my head with this girl, but I can’t help it.

   She smiles a little before looking down and opening her door, but she doesn’t close it. She goes into her bathroom, and I stand outside, waiting. She opens the bathroom door, dressed in pajamas, and climbs into bed. She doesn’t look at me or say a word the whole time.

   I take that as an invitation and walk in. I stand on the opposite side of the bed and strip to my boxers. I get into bed with her. We lie on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. She reaches down and takes my hand in hers under the covers, our fingers entwined.

   I can’t get tonight out of my head. I think about that asshole and wonder who the fuck he is and what he was doing buying my girl a drink. I let out a sigh.

   She must know what I’m thinking, because she says, “Jake, if there’s something you want to ask me, just ask.”

   “If you know I want to ask, why don’t you just tell me?”

   It’s her turn to sigh. She looks at me. “I don’t like playing games, Jake.”

   I return her gaze. “Then don’t.”

   We shift to face each other. We’re inches apart, but our bodies aren’t touching—only our fingers are still entwined.

   “His name’s Andrew. He went to my school—he’s James’s best friend. He bought me the drink because he knows I love it. He introduced me to it.”

   “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

   “Because I wasn’t sure how you’d feel if I brought up James. Besides, you didn’t ask.”

   “What did he say to you?” I move the hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “You looked sad for a moment there.”

   “He said that he was sorry about what happened that night. He said that just because his best friend is a dick doesn’t mean that he is. I was sad because he said that he’ll miss me when we go off to college. We were friends, too, you know? It shouldn’t have to end because James is an asshole.”

   I take a deep breath in then huff loudly. “You should have just told me.”

   “You should have just asked,” she replies.

   It’s quiet for a few moments. Then I say, “I don’t know that it’s my place to ask. I mean, do I have a right to ask?”

   “Who was the girl, Jake?”

   “She was no one.”

   Silence.

   “She’s this girl who went to my school. She’s the coach’s daughter. She threw herself at me, but I stopped it as soon as I knew what was happening. I swear it.”

   She sighs and moves closer to me, burying her face in my chest. I hold her. “You have the right to ask, Jake. But you have no reason to.”

TWENTY-NINE

MIKAYLA

   “So Lucy’s all up in this girl’s face, picks up a random drink from one of the tables, and throws the contents on her,” Cam says, laughing.

   “What did she say after that? It was so fucking funny,” Logan joins in, trying to remember.

   Apparently, after we left the club some girl was at the bar next to Cam, trying to get him to notice her. When he brushed her off, she grabbed his junk—not in a bad way, but in a . . . seductive way.

   “Oh yeah!” Logan laughs. In a high-pitched voice, fingers snapping, he mimics, “ ‘My man would never touch you, you fucking slut! You’re so fucking ugly, it’s like your face caught on fire, and someone tried to put it out with a goddamn fork!’ ”

   We crack up. We’re at Lucy’s cabin, drinking around a bonfire. It’s good times.

   “I was so turned on,” Cam says.

   Lucy just sits quietly.

   “And she knew it, too,” Cam continues. “She turns into this animal when she knows I’m turned on. She blew me in the car on the drive home!”

   “What?” Heidi yells, a disgusted look on her face.

   The boys all cheer for Cam, and I stifle my laughter against Jake’s neck. I feel his body shake with that deep, throaty chuckle I love so much. I look up at him but his cap is in the way. I flip it backwards so I can get closer to him, and he smiles at me. I glance at Lucy. She’s not saying anything—she just looks down and blushes. It must be true.

   After the laughter dies down a little, Logan sighs. “I can’t wait to get the fuck out of this hick town.”

   We all look at him. His eyes are red, his lids are droopy, and he’s been slurring his words the last hour. He’s obviously beyond buzzed, but he hasn’t stopped drinking. I asked Jake if we should cut him off, but he assured me that Logan knows his limits.

   “I just get sick of being the seventh wheel, you know?” He’s still looking down, and we watch him curiously. It’s a big deal when Logan has something serious to say, so we listen. “I mean, even before Jake met Micky.”

   I tense, but Jake squeezes my hand reassuringly.

   “When Jake was single, it wasn’t like he was on the prowl or anything, but he didn’t care, you know? It was never about girls with him. I just . . . I don’t know. Sometimes, I watch all you guys, and I want that. I know I’m an asshole, but it’s not like . . .” He shrugs to himself.

   We eye each other. I guess we never thought he felt this way.

   “I see you guys together—how you get each other, how you want to be around each other all the fucking time—and you’re there, you know, through all of it. I finish my days and I got no one to go to. Nobody gives a shit if I have a bad day or not.” He sighs out a heavy breath. He looks at the sky and runs a hand through his hair.

   “I know I sleep around, but it’s not like I haven’t been looking. I just haven’t found anyone who makes me feel anything—not the way you all feel about each other. I guess I’m just wasted . . .” He trails off.

   Everyone is quiet. What do you say to that?