Jake is wiping away tears I didn’t realize were falling. He places his hands on either side of my face, looking into my eyes. He must see so much sadness, hurt, anger, and regret, but all I see in his are comfort and understanding. He brings my head to his lips and gives me one short, sweet kiss on my temple. It’s all I need to keep going and believe that everything will be okay.

   Everyone around us continues to chatter, and I realize I’ve totally spaced out.

   “I can’t wait to hit the bars around UNC,” Cam says.

   “Huh?” I look up. “Who’s going to UNC?”

   Cam laughs. “We all are. Why? Are you?”

   “Yeah, I am,” I say, wide-eyed. “What? All of you are?”

   Cam eyes Jake for a second then looks at me. “Yeah, your boy Jake got a full–ride athletic scholarship.” He smiles like a proud dad. “He’ll probably be starting pitcher as a freshman.”

   I whip my head in Jake’s direction and see him nodding shyly. “No shit?”

   “Shit,” he deadpans.

   “And what about the rest of you?” I eye Lucy in particular, because I think we’re probably going to study the same things.

   “I got a partial academic scholarship and am planning to major in either creative writing or journalism. I haven’t decided yet.” She shrugs.

   “No effing way!” I cry, my voice laced with disbelief. “Me too! Like, exactly—partial scholarship and all.”

   “No shit?” she says.

   “Shit,” I return.

   “Jake and I are the only ones lucky enough to get scholarships. Cam and Dylan are hoping to share a dorm, and Heidi and Logan will be majoring in the Greek system.” She laughs, and the rest join her. I see her glance at Jake and feel his body move under me.

   “What about you?” I ask him.

   He shrugs. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

   We continue to drink and talk the rest of the night. I’m feeling slightly buzzed—okay, maybe a little more than slightly. I’m smiling and having a good time, and the ache in my heart from earlier tonight is a fraction less painful.

   Lucy shuffles through her bag to find her e-reader.

   “Seriously, Luce?” Heidi says.

   “No, let her read,” Cam says with an evil smirk. His eyes look heavy—he’s definitely drunk.

   “Shut up,” Lucy mumbles under her breath.

   “What’s going on?” Logan looks up from his phone.

   Cam starts laughing. “Oh, I love it when she reads.” He turns to Lucy, whose face is turning a bright shade of red. “She reads these smutty books—like, full-on dirty sex and BDSM shit.”

   “Oh my God, Cameron. Shut the hell up!” She reaches out to cover his mouth, but he’s too quick. He jumps off the truck and starts walking around.

   “Sometimes when we’re in bed, she’ll be reading and make these little moaning sounds,” he continues, trying not to laugh. We’re all cackling with him.

   Lucy jumps off the truck, too. Removing her heels, she stalks him like prey. “I swear to God, Cameron Aladdin Gordon! You better shut your mouth or I won’t put out for one year!”

   “Aladdin?” we all yell and erupt into fits of laughter.

   For some reason, Cam decides to keep talking. “She reads these books, right . . .” He walks backwards around us as Lucy advances. She occasionally tries to cover his mouth, but he slaps her hands away. She’s fuming, but I can see she’s also trying not to smile. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

   “I’m not joking, guys! They’re pornographic, all about silky shafts and veined dicks,” he continues. Logan is on the ground, holding his side from the pain of laughing too hard. “Sometimes she suddenly puts her book down and looks at me like she wants to eat me—literally eat me!” he yells, laughing harder and swatting her hands away. “I mean, I don’t mind it at all. It’s hot as fuck. She wants to try everything she reads in these books—everything. So I don’t give a shit when or how much she reads, because I get the rewards.”

   I bury my face in Jake’s neck to stop a hyena laugh from bubbling up. Logan’s still rolling around on the ground, and Heidi is wiping tears from her eyes. Even Dylan has his head thrown back, his body convulsing with silent laughter. Jake’s deep, rumbling chuckles are so close to my ear that I can feel his breath.

   Cam runs away from her faster. “The other week she even let me do her in the a—”

   Lucy squeals. We burst out laughing even harder. Her face is bright red now, and she’s given up trying to catch him. She stands defeated, and when Cam strolls over to her she slaps him hard across the face. We all quiet down and, still giggling, stare at them, waiting . . . Then Cam says, “Yeah, baby! You know I like it rough!” and throws her over his shoulder. They head into the bushes, Lucy laughing and pounding his back.

   They return thirty minutes later, changed out of their prom clothes. It’s obvious what just happened. Where did they go, anyway? I look in the direction where they came from and see lights on in a little wooden cabin.

   “Where the hell are we?” I ask. The group chuckles.

   “This is my family’s property,” Lucy says, sitting back down on the truck bed. “We live on a billion acres or something. My dad built that cabin for me to use whenever I want to escape. My mom passed away a few years ago, and I have six younger brothers, so it’s just me. They can’t hear anything from the main house. Cam and I practically live there.”

   “Your dad doesn’t mind that you’re out here by yourself or with Cam?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

   “My dad acts naive and likes to think that Cam leaves every night. I’m his only daughter, so as far as he’s concerned all I do is study and read books. He probably doesn’t want to think too much about it. It’s not like I’m a crackhead or goth or covered in tattoos and piercings.” She shrugs. “Would you worry if I were your daughter?”

   “Probably not,” I say. “But if I knew you were a lady in the street and a freak in the bed, I’d have my doubts.”

   Everyone cracks up. Logan goes to an iPod dock that’s sitting in the truck and plays “Nasty Girl.” When Ludacris says the “A lady in the street and a freak in the bed!” line during his rap, we all yell it. Logan knows the entire rap word for word. He then plays “Yeah” by Usher. We stand up and dance like fools, thinking we actually have moves like Usher. We try to pop and lock but look like we’re having epileptic fits. Even Dylan gets in on it.