But Blake—he made me question it.

   He made me want to change it.

   To change my outlook.

   And to change myself.

   But I couldn’t.

   And I wouldn’t.

   Because one day, sooner rather than later, I’d be gone.

   And I’d leave them all behind.

CHAPTER EIGHT

   Chloe

   He hadn’t gone to school yesterday. Not that I’d been looking for him, but his chair in the cafeteria had been empty. I’d heard his girlfriend, Hannah, telling people that he was with Josh and Tommy and that Tommy had been sick Monday night. I was glad that they had spoken and that he’d told her the truth.

   He’d looked pissed when I had said that I didn’t want anyone to find out that we knew each other. High school was enough of a bitch as it was. I didn’t need people like Hannah as my enemy. I’d studied enough to pass my classes and moved on to the next day.

   But he was there that day. Which I knew meant that I’d most likely see him at work, or earlier, as fate would have it.

   I saw him when I showed up for gym class. “A special guest,” Coach Riley called him. “He’s here to teach us the fundamentals of basketball.” Fundamentals? We were eighteen. Seniors. If we didn’t know the fundamentals of basketball—living in Wilmington, North Carolina, home of the Michael Jordan—then it meant we didn’t ever care to learn. I, for one, did not care. Hannah, however, gushed, clapping her hands when she saw him. It must’ve been as much of a surprise for her as it was for me.

   I kept my head down the entire time, trying to be inconspicuous. Even when he stood behind me and guided me on how to hold the ball and shoot from the free-throw line, I didn’t acknowledge him. Not even when I completely missed the shot and he said, “We’re gonna need to work on that. What’s your name?”

   “Chloe,” I answered, my eyes never meeting his. I turned and walked to the end of the line. He said my name eight more times during class. I knew Hannah noticed. She glared at me the entire time in the locker room. But her glare changed to a smirk after I went to put on my shoes only to discover that they’d been drenched in water. I left before everyone else. Soaking-wet shoes and all. He was outside the gym doors, waiting. He called my name, but I kept walking. He knew that was the opposite of what I wanted. He knew, and he’d done it anyway. If he’d meant to piss me off, it worked—I was done with him.

   His car was already in the lot when I pulled up. I stepped out and yanked down on the hem of my whore-size T-shirt. My boobs almost spilled out. Note to self: Make sure to get a larger size by Friday. If not, quit.

   I walked into the building with my chin up, ignoring the fact that he rose to his full height from his lazy slouch against the desk when I walked in. He called my name. I didn’t care.

   Flowers were waiting for me when I got to the snack bar. A huge pink balloon floated above them. The words “It’s a Girl” had been crossed out with a marker. Written underneath was “Thank you.” Josh walked out from the prep area and grinned. “It was all they had,” he explained, pointing to the balloon. He came up and wrapped his arms around me. I wasn’t expecting the embrace. “Thank you again,” he said, hugging me tighter. I hugged him back. I couldn’t not.

   “Switch jobs?” Blake’s voice felt like a force field pulling us apart.

   “Sure.” Josh shrugged, lifted the counter door and walked away.

   Blake walked in after him. “You’re pissed at me?”

   I turned my back on him, picked up the flowers and carried them to the storeroom, where I dropped my bag.

   “Oh. So you’re pissed and ignoring me?”

   I spun on my heels to confront him. But he was right there, towering over me. He blocked me in with both hands, palms against the wall, on either side of my head. Looking down at the floor, I said, “So you’re going to intimidate me into talking to you? That’s kind of a dick move, don’t you think?”

   He dropped his arms and cursed under his breath. “I just don’t get you.”

   “You don’t have to get me.” I raised my eyes. “All I asked was that you do the same thing that you’ve done for the past four years and just ignore me. Just pretend like I don’t exist. But you couldn’t do that. Was there a point to that little charade in the gym?”

   “What is with you?”

   “Nothing!” I lost it then. “I just want to get through the next few months unnoticed, like I’ve done my entire life, and I don’t want you to ruin that for me!”

   “Why? What’s the big deal if people see you? If people notice you? So fucking what?”

   “I don’t want people like your girlfriend—” I broke off. He didn’t need to know what Hannah had done.

   “Hannah?” His eyes widened. “Did she do something to you?”

   “No.” I shook my head quickly. “No, Blake. Nothing happened.”

   He studied me for a second, evidently trying to decide whether to believe me or not. Then a fire sparked in his eyes. “Speaking of girlfriend,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “You want to tell me why you thought it was okay to kiss me Saturday night when you knew I had a girlfriend and you had a boyfriend?”

   “What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend!”

   “Oh!” He rolled his eyes. “So you drive to Clayton’s house in the middle of the night, he answers the door half-naked, and just lets you in because he’s not your boyfriend?”

   “You followed me?”

   “I wanted to make sure you got home safe. Don’t change the subject.”

   “I’m not changing the subject, asshole. I told you. I don’t have a boyfriend!”

   “So what is it then? You guys just fuck whenever you want? No strings?”

   “Fuck you.”

   I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm. “Tell me I’m wrong.” I could see the plea in his eyes, but I didn’t care.

   “You’re wrong,” I told him.

   “How?”

   I let out a shaky breath. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I went to his apartment to sleep. I told you that I don’t like going home in the middle of the night in case the kids wake up.” I pried his fingers off my arm. “And it shouldn’t matter. Because you and I—we’re nothing. We never were, and we never will be.”

   Blake

   There had been this party last year. It had been the party to end all parties. Some guy had come home from college and hosted it. He’d said it was open to high school juniors and seniors but only a select few. Invitations had been sent out via Facebook. You had to show the evidence on your phone before you entered. It was that exclusive. Hannah was thrilled when I got an invite. She didn’t get one, but she was my girlfriend, so it automatically made her my plus one.