Chapter One

Cami- Three months later

“Can someone please tell me the ruling for comma placements in this particular sentence?” Mrs. Stuart tapped the board with her old-fashioned, stick pointer as she peered over the top of her small, gold wire-rimmed glasses. Her gaze floated around the classroom, looking for a volunteer as she absently reached up to pat her French twisted gray hair.

I raised my hand from the back of the classroom and she stopped on me, smiling.

“Anyone besides Miss Wimberley?” she amended.

I lowered my arm quickly, accidentally hitting the edge of my binder, which was hanging off my desk. The action caused it to pop up and fall to the floor. The three rings burst open, and papers scattered everywhere.

Laughter twittered through the previously silent classroom, and my face flushed in embarrassment as I slid to my knees, hurriedly trying to gather the mess.

“Attention! Please!” Mrs. Stuart’s voice snapped, directing everyone to look back at her. “Mr. Wilder, please help Cami pick up her things.”

I groaned internally. Not Hunter, I thought.

My humiliation was complete. It was bad enough almost all my classes were seated alphabetically, bad enough the computer had somehow managed to put him in four of my seven periods when he’d moved in a few weeks ago, bad enough he’d risen to immediate ‘in’ status and was now considered the hottest, coolest—and maybe the worst—partier in school. Despite the two of us being from entirely different social classes, him the king of stoners, me the queen of nerdy chic, I still managed to have a crush on him—a crush I did my absolute best to hide from everyone . . . especially him.

“That was a sleek move you did there, Cami,” Hunter whispered as he knelt down next to me and began to gather papers. “I didn’t think notebooks could fly like that. Did you have to get special training?” He glanced up at the board where Mrs. Stuart was continuing with the lesson. “Too bad it didn’t work.”

“What?” I sighed in exasperation, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He flashed a bright smile, and my gaze settled first on his perfect, white teeth, then on those deliciously plump lips of his.

I bet he’s fun to kiss. I blinked. Whoa! Where did that come from?

“Are you saying this whole knocking of the binder was truly an accident?” he spoke.

I jerked my attention from his mouth back to the floor and the task in front of me.

“And here I thought you were trying to save the rest of the class from answering the question,” he continued.

I paused to stare at him. “Really? You did?”

He leaned past me, reaching to grab some papers under a vacant desk, and I caught a whiff of his cool scented aftershave, mixed with the faint smell of cigarettes.

“No.” He chuckled quietly, and a lock of his black hair tumbled over his tanned forehead. He straightened and handed me the papers. “I was trying to give you an out so you didn’t feel quite so humiliated." He winked, and I couldn’t help but notice his chocolate colored eyes looked like they had little drops of caramel scattered through them. I’d never been this close to his face before.

“Oh.” I suddenly felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “Thanks . . . I think."

His smile widened. “Anytime. I may have only been here a short while, but I’m sure I’ve been in enough of your classes to have you pegged."

“Is that so?” I began arranging things in my binder so I wouldn’t have to look at him or his tight, black t-shirt stretched across his perfectly muscled physique. It should be a sin for a guy in high school to have a body that good.

Besides, I was pretty sure he was messing with me.

“I do. It didn’t take me long to figure out you’re sweet, probably the smartest girl in school, maybe the most talented as well, and you’re definitely every teacher’s pet. You always pay attention and do your work like a good student should.” He shook his head, as he stared. “Little-Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes. Do you have a life outside of class? I haven’t seen you around. I bet you’ve never even been to a party before, have you? I just can’t picture you kickin’ back with the homies.”

He was baiting me—and it was working. “Of course I have,” I snapped under my breath, not knowing why I cared whether or not he thought I was  cool. “My mom throws the most amazing parties, and I hang out with my best friend, Clay, all the time.”

“I don’t think birthday parties count. And Clay? Now there’s a nerd for you—pocket protector and everything. Someone told me he has a girlfriend.” He snorted a little too loudly. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Hurry up you two,” Mrs. Stuart called out before turning to her desk.

I snapped my binder back together. “Thanks for your help, even if it was required of you.” I got into my seat feeling irritated.

He slid into his beside me, slouching and stretching his long frame into the aisle. I could tell he was still looking at

me, so I stared straight ahead, determined to ignore him. He was such a punk.

“You need a partner for the next part of this lesson, so buddy up please,” Mrs. Stuart said as she started passing out a worksheet.

There was a bunch of noise as everyone hurried to find whom they wanted to work with. Hunter promptly slid his desk over next to mine before I had a chance to move.

“Hey buddy.” He smiled.

My eyes widened. “Back to degrade me some more?” I grumbled.

He looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t that what you were doing a minute ago? Telling me what a nerd I am and how I have no social life?”

“Is that what you thought?” He leaned forward, placing his arms on his desk and turned to stare at me.

I didn’t answer. He was so close he seemed intimidating, like he noticed everything about me with just one glance. It made me feel self-conscious.

Mrs. Stuart paused at our desks and handed us a piece of paper before she returned to the front of the room. “As you can see, there are several paragraphs on this. All but one are punctuated incorrectly. You’re to take turns reading aloud to each other. In the space below each paragraph, rewrite it the way you think it should be. When you find the correct one, circle it. Put both your names in the top corner, and turn it in before the bell please. You may begin.”

Hunter grabbed the paper and penciled his name in before sliding it over. “I’m glad I picked you as a partner. Maybe I’ll get a good grade on this now.”

“Why? Because I’ll do all the work?” I hissed. I knew guys like him. They sucked up to you until they got what they wanted and then acted like you were no one the next time you were around. There was no way I’d let him do that.

He looked at me funny. “Did I do something to piss you off? You seem mad.”

P“Never mind.” I picked up the paper to begin reading, but he placed his hand on it, flattening it against the desk.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I wouldn’t look at him. I wasn’t sure why I was getting so upset. It shouldn’t matter if some party boy thought I was a nerd. It’s not like I would ever go out with him even if he didn’t. I was positive he was into the whole drug and alcohol scene, just from the friends he’d made already. I’d seen him smoking in the parking lot a couple of times, trying to hide his cigarette in the curl of his hand so no one would notice. I always wondered why the kids in this school were still stupid enough to party after Jordan Henley’s overdose on meth three months ago. You think they’d learn, but no, everyone seemed content to keep on using. “Can we do this please?” I gestured to the assignment.

He removed his hand and leaned in closer, following along as I read the first paragraph.

“Okay, where do you think the punctuation goes?” I asked, not wanting to share my knowledge all of a sudden.

He pointed to a spot. “Comma here, I think.”

Dang. He was right. I begrudgingly penciled it in.

“I can tell you’re a singer. You have a musical quality to your voice. That’s so cool, by the way. I hear you’re pretty good. Do you think you’d ever want to do it professionally?”

“Whaa . . . ?” I couldn’t finish the comment, his remark caught me so off guard. I fumbled, trying to find words. “Where did you hear that?” I narrowed my eyes. “Have you been talking to people about me?”

He laughed. “Of course. Guys always talk to each other about the pretty girls at school.” He bumped his shoulder into mine in a friendly gesture.

My mouth popped open, and I was reduced to the facial movements of a fish. I was stunned, unable to believe what he’d just said.

“I needed to be brought into the loop about who’s hot and who’s not, when I moved here. You know how it is,” he added. “Social status and all that.”

And then I was deflated, because I understood what he meant.

“Yes, I’m sure they were happy to fill you in that I’m part of the ‘who’s not’ category. In fact, I’d imagine I’m probably on the top of that list.”

He lifted an eyebrow in question, and I noticed the color of his eyes again for the second time today. “You’re kidding, right? I don’t think any guy has you on his ‘who’s not’ list.”

“Then please, enlighten me as to which lucky category I’ve fallen into. It’s always nice to be sorted like inanimate objects.”

He appeared unfazed by my objection. “I think you’re more on the unattainable list. Guys figure you’re too good for them, so they don’t bother asking.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “I can’t imagine why anyone would think that. I’ve never acted that way.”

He shrugged. “Must be that Goody-Two-Shoes attitude then.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? I kind of like it. I think it’s going to be my nickname for you from now on.” He grinned.

“Are you this irritating with everyone you know?” I glared at him.

He laughed loud enough that Mrs. Stuart sent a disgruntled look in our direction.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He grabbed the paper, read the next paragraph, and we took turns marking the punctuation together. He got a couple wrong, and I had to explain the rules to him.

I chewed lightly on the tip of my pencil eraser as I quickly skimmed through the next paragraph. “I think this is the correct one. Do you want to read it before I circle it?”

“No. I trust you,” he said, waving it off. “So what are you doing this weekend?”

I stiffened, suddenly worried about where this conversation might be headed. “My dad has a fundraiser concert and dinner on Saturday for his Jazz band. I may attend that, but I haven’t really decided yet. Why?”

“Your dad plays in a band?” he questioned.

“Yeah, my mom is the choir director at New Mexico West University, and my dad is the band director. They’re always putting on concerts together. It was their dream jobs to find two positions together like they did here. I’ve participated in all their concerts and musicals since we moved here when I was little.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Where’d you live before?” He seemed genuinely interested.

 “Tucson, Arizona.”

He looked shocked for a second before he laughed. “What a small world. That’s where I’m from. So you know how painful it is to move from there to a middle-of-nowhere place like Copper City then.”

I nodded. “I do. Of course, I don’t really remember Tucson that much. We moved when I was five. It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. There’s lots of fun things to do here, like visiting the museums, checking out the local artistry, or driving out to see some of the Indian ruins and mines in the . .  .” I let my sentence dwindle off at his horrified look. “Yeah, Copper City is definitely not your kind of thing.” He slouched back into his chair with a sigh. “I know. My life is over.”

“I believe your life can be whatever you want to make of it.” I lifted my chin defiantly, daring him to challenge me.

“Is that how it works? Well then, I want my life to be a big, giant, keg party.”

I pursed my lips together and glanced over him.

“What?” He squinted his gorgeous eyes. “You think I’m a loser now, Goody-Two-Shoes? Just some worthless partier?”

“Actually, I was trying to imagine what you might look like with a beer belly.”  He grinned and sat up, grabbing the paper on the desk in front of me. “I like you, Goody. No one mentioned you were so snarky.”

He started reading the next paragraph out loud before I could respond. I wasn’t sure what to think of him. He’d hardly spoken to me before, except to ask for a pencil once. Now he was suddenly Mr. Talkative? It didn’t matter really. He would probably forget all about me by tomorrow.

Chapter Two

Hunter-

Dude, the girl is freakin’ hot, I thought to myself for the thousandth time as I stared at her during chemistry lab. Initially, I’d been disappointed this class didn’t have alphabetized seating like the others, but I’d grown quite happy with admiring the view from behind without her knowing.

I cast another glance over her form—slender, yet round in all the right places. Her curly, red hair bounced with every shake of her head as she talked animatedly to her best friend, Clay. He was almost the classic nerd stereotype. Slick hair combed with a rigid part, plaid shirts, with pens in his pocket protector. He wore glasses, but they were decent looking ones—not the typical thick coke bottle glasses that were taped in the middle that most people associated with the type. My attention returned to the beautiful girl at his side.

What a pair. I wondered if she knew he was the real reason guys didn’t ask her out much. She was considered nerdy by association, which was a shame seeing how she was drop-dead gorgeous. Even though Clay claimed to have a girlfriend in another town, there was still some speculation on whether or not these two might actually be an item.

I released a frustrated sigh. I wished I hadn’t talked to her yesterday. I liked her instantly. It was fun to push her buttons and mess with her for a bit. But I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, nerd or otherwise—no way, no how. There was enough on my plate right now, and having a relationship with anyone, especially her, would complicate things so badly I didn’t want to consider the repercussions.

I dragged my stare away and looked at the lab sheet in front of me, as I tried to forget the conversation we’d had. She was unsure of me. I could tell from the way her honey eyes rounded in surprise and how she chewed on her apricot colored bottom lip, her perfect

skin blushing softly like an overripe peach.

Growling, I shifted slightly in my seat. I made her sound like she was a fruit salad just waiting for me to take a bite. There will be no biting of anyone, I reminded myself, frowning at my internal dialogue. Strictly off limits.

“You okay, man?”

I glanced over to find my lab partner and new friend, Russ, staring at me strangely.

“Fine, why?”

He shrugged. “No reason. You were just making some funny noises.”

“What’s the next step in this lab?” I asked. If he wondered why I was taking a sudden interest in the project I’d basically been letting him do alone, he made no comment about it.

He chuckled. “We’re done.”

“Oh, sorry.” I wasn’t really. I could think of a million other things I would rather be doing right now. I hated being stuck in this dumb science lab, or any class for that matter. I was so over high school.

“It’s okay. You seemed . . .  preoccupied.” He cast a glance in Cami’s direction before looking back.

I gave a soft grunt and ran a hand over my face. I needed to pay better attention to what I was doing and who was watching.

“I get it,” Russ continued on as if we’d actually been having a conversation. “I’ve always thought she’s pretty.”

“Who?” I asked, trying to bluff my way out of this situation.

He grinned. “That’s really the way you’re gonna play it?”

“Play what? I have no idea what you’re talking about, bro.”

He shook his head looking perplexed. “Okay, I get it. You don’t want to talk about the girl you obviously think is hot. I don’t understand it, but whatever. It’s your deal.”

“Going to any good parties tonight?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

“I’m planning on heading to the one at Billy Barker’s. His parents are out of town. You going?”

“If that’s where the good stuff is, then that’s where I’ll be.” I needed to see if I could score something.

“Then look me up while you’re there,” he said. “We can chill together.”

“Will do.”

The house was easy enough to find, thanks in part to the massive amount of cars parked up and down the long driveway. I climbed out of my black Camaro and glanced around, noticing there didn’t seem to be any neighboring residences close by. This was probably a good thing since the music was pounding so loud I was sure they would’ve called the cops by now. I grinned slightly at the idea of the house being surrounded and watching people scream and scatter while they tried to avoid arrest.

The gravel crunched under my boots as I made my way toward the two-story adobe, Santa Fe styled home. It seemed like the party was in full swing. The tree outside had already been toilet papered, and I could hear some poor person puking their guts out in the bushes.

I walked up the steps to the covered porch, choosing to avoid any eye contact with the couple heavily making out on the swing, and went inside.

Weaving my way through the crush of bodies that danced to the heavy bass, I moved toward where the kitchen appeared to be located. I found the giant keg I was looking for and grabbed a plastic cup off the counter.

“Fill me up!” I yelled over the loud music to the guy manning the alcohol, Johnny, if I remembered his name from school.

He grinned. “Will do!” He opened the tap until the amber liquid was close to foaming over. I nodded at him before lifting it and downing a healthy swig, draining the glass to nearly halfway.

Careful to keep from spilling, I moved through the gyrating crowd toward the open glass doors that led out to a pool area.

“Hunter!” A voice caught my attention, and I saw Russ give me a wave, motioning me over.

I turned in his direction, handing him my cup before I jumped up to sit on the short wall next to him.

“Wassup, dude?” I asked, as he handed my drink back. I sat it carefully beside me while I fished my cigarettes and lighter from my pocket. I lit up and took a long drag before blowing the smoke out the side of my mouth.

“Nothin’ much. Just scoping out the girls.”

“Finding anyone good?” I surveyed the ladies both in the pool and out and shook my head. I didn’t think large crowds, beer, and water were probably the best mix. Plus, there was no way I’d be getting in any pool in March, unless of course it was heated. The weather this week had been quite a bit warmer though, so maybe it wasn’t too bad.

“There’s a couple I might try hookin’ up with later.” He grinned, ruffling a hand through his light-brown hair. “See anyone you like?”

I gave a slight shrug and shook my head. “Not really.”

“Well, Gabrielle Martinez has been asking everyone if you’re coming tonight. I think she has her eye on you.”

I looked over to where the striking brunette was standing beside the pool in a skimpy turquoise bikini talking to her friends and groaned. The lights under the water were sending glowing ripples across her smooth, caramel-colored skin, highlighting her near-perfect body. She laughed at something—her smile lighting her face—and cast a glance in my direction.

“She’s pretty, but not my type,” I replied to Russ, reiterating my complete lack of interest in having any of these girls as a girlfriend.

“Oh, I already knew that. I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that your tastes tend to run toward the nerdy, redheaded variety.” He chuckled.

I stiffened at his reference to Cami and the disturbing fact I immediately knew who he was talking about. Images of the stunning redhead filtered through my mind, causing my pulse to jump up a notch. This wasn’t good. If I were being totally honest, she was the first person I looked for when I walked through the door tonight, although I knew she wouldn’t be here. I was glad she wasn’t.

“Cami’s gorgeous, but she’s not my type either.” I reached for my beer and took a sip before taking another drag on my cigarette.

“Could’ve fooled me with the way you’ve been staring at her in school. If she’s not your type, who is? I’m sure we can find you someone good to hook up with.”

“No one’s my type, I don’t want a girlfriend. They’re too complicated.”

Russ arched his brow, looking at me as if I was crazy.

I decided to get chatty. “The last girl I was with did a real number on me. She was super possessive, always wanted me to meet her and do whatever she wanted. It seemed as if nothing I did was ever good enough. Then I found out she was cheating on me the whole time with some college guy. I broke up with her and she threatened to tell my parents and the cops I was doing drugs. She wanted me to stay with her while she was with this other guy.”

“Wow, that’s crazy. What did you do?”

“I told her to go ahead and tell them—she couldn’t prove anything. Besides, she was the person I was always getting

stoned with. I could’ve gotten her in just as much trouble.”

“Sounds like she was a real winner.”

I chuckled. Dang, I was a friggin’ good liar. He totally bought it. “She was something. Who can I hit up here to score a little blunt?” I asked, successfully redirecting the subject as I glanced around the large group. “The last party I went to provided all the goods for us, but it was smaller. I guess that’s not the case this time.”

“Talk to Derek Johnson.” He pointed to a guy standing by a girl in the far corner over by the house. “He can hook you up. I’m not sure where he gets his stuff, but he always seems to have something on him.”  I saw the girl give Derek some money, and he slipped a small bag into her hand.

“Thanks. I couldn’t find anyone at the party last weekend to spot me something for my personal stash, so I had to make do with alcohol. Thank goodness my uncle left his liquor cabinet open when he went out of town. That helped me pass the week a little easier.”

“I heard you live with your uncle. Sorry about your parents.” He looked at me sympathetically. “We’ve known each other for a couple of weeks now, but you’ve never really brought stuff up when it comes to your past. I didn’t want to pry—figured you’d talk when you were ready.”  I took another swallow of my drink and shrugged. “Accidents happen. I try not to think about it.”

He looked uncomfortable. “So your uncle is gone a lot?”

I nodded. “Yeah, he seems to enjoy that jet-setter lifestyle of his—always flying around to his big corporate meetings around the country. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled to be saddled with me, even though we get along. I don’t mind, though. I’d rather be alone.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to just hang with, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, dude.” I crushed out my cigarette, clapped him on the shoulder, and hopped off the wall. I headed  toward Derek, feeling pretty good with myself—until the very curvy brunette, who’d been eyeing me since I arrived, waylaid me.

“Hey Hunter,” Gabrielle said sliding up close and blocking my path.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not the rest of what she was so generously flashing.

“I’m glad you came tonight.” She boldly traced a finger over my chest.

“Really? Why’s that?” I tried to gauge if she was drunk, but I couldn’t smell anything.

“Haven’t you noticed I’ve been watching you at school?” She smiled flirtatiously, tossing some of her long hair over her shoulder.

“No.” That was a lie. I’d noticed and was doing my best to avoid her. I knew her reputation and exactly what she was hoping to get from me.

“Well, I have been.” She pressed in closer. “Wanna come sit by me at the pool? We can put our feet in together.”

“No thanks. The chlorine bothers me.” Another lie. I noticed Derek slipping into the house, and I felt irritated. I didn’t want to lose him. The whole reason I came to this party was to get some sort of illegal refreshment.

Gabrielle gave me a pouty look. “Okay. How about taking me for a ride in that sweet car of yours then? I know a  place with a great view of the city where we can go park.”   Wow, this chick didn’t take a hint very well, and she certainly didn’t waste any time.

I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and glanced at it. “Sorry, Gabby, but my uncle will be home soon,” I fibbed again. “I was just dropping into the party for a quick beer and to say hi to Russ. I gotta get going.”

“Oh. All right.” She looked truly put out. “See you at school then.”

“Sure thing.” I ducked around her, making a mental note to do my best to avoid her completely from now on.

I hurried into the house, looking around for Derek, but couldn’t find him anywhere. “Hey, did Derek just come through here?” I shouted at the guy standing by the door so he could hear me over the music.

“I think he went upstairs,” he yelled back and pointed.

“Thanks.” I weaved through the throng in that direction, quickly ascending the staircase, but only saw a couple making out in the hallway. I walked around them, pausing by a door that was ajar. I knocked, opening it enough to stick my head in and was rewarded with a shriek.

“Lock the friggin’ door people,” I grumbled, wishing I didn’t have that image stuck in my head. I paused, staring at all the other doors, afraid to open them now. “Derek Johnson! Are you up here?” I shouted.

The couple who’d been kissing stopped and stared at me like I was crazy. There was no answer from any of the rooms, and no one emerged.

“We haven’t seen him up here,” the guy said.

I gave a frustrated sigh and headed back down the stairs. After searching the whole ground floor unsuccessfully, I finally left the house and headed toward my car.

Damn. What a wasted night.

Chapter Three

Cami-

I stretched out in the poolside lounge chair, trying to catch some of the warm, spring rays, and get a jumpstart on my tan for the year. Once again, I thanked the genetics of my parents. Even though they’d given me the curly, red hair of my mother, I had at least been blessed with the warm skin tones of my father—skin that loved the sun.

Clay, who was not so blessed, sat beside me and continued to slather sunscreen over every inch of his white, glowing body.

“I think you’ve got half the bottle on you now,” I joked as I watched him rub it in vigorously.

“Not all of us are gifted with the complexion of a supermodel, like you are.”

I laughed. “Actually, most models avoid the sun. They’re probably as pale as you.”

He considered this for a moment before flexing his mid section. “But do they have my great abs of steel?”

I snorted as I stared at him. He wasn’t flabby by any means, but I certainly wouldn’t call his stomach abs of steel. When I pictured a body like that, I saw someone like . . . Hunter Wilder. I groaned and hid my eyes behind my arm.

“That bad, huh?” Clay sounded defeated.

“No, no, no!” I hurried to reassure him. “Your comment just made me think of something that happened.”

“Oh, well fill me in then.” He finished rubbing his sunscreen in and settled into the seat.

“It’s nothing really. Are those new swimming trunks?” I tried to change the subject. “I don’t remember seeing them before.” I gestured to the plaid shorts he was wearing. He’d had a serious obsession with plaid for as long as I could remember. Sometimes a little was okay, but when it came to Clay, he always managed to overdo it.

“Don’t you even try to dodge me. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten, and I know when you’re hiding stuff. You’ve been quiet and reflective all day. Tell me what’s going on.”

I laughed again. “Are you this bossy with your girlfriend?”

“No. It’s hard to tell Marcy what to do when she lives three hours away.”

“Well, at least you’re close enough to see each other once in a while. That’s nice.”

He made some sort of noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “Back to the original subject. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just had a weird moment with Hunter Wilder. I’m not sure if he was trying to discretely be insulting or if he was flirting with me.”

Clay’s eyebrows furrowed. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have anything to do with him. He’s not your kind of guy. In fact, I advise you to stay far, far away.” His tone had taken on a decidedly agitated quality.

I narrowed my eyes and observed him closely. “You sound upset. Do you know him?”

“Not really, but I know enough. Rumor has it he’s hardcore into the drug scene. He also has “womanizer” written all over him.” He scratched his head as he scowled. “He’s one of those guys that girls just lay down in front of. He can have his pick of anyone.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re saying you don’t think he was flirting with me. Thanks a lot.” I made a screwed up face.

He shook his head. “No, I’m saying I know he was flirting. I’ve seen him look at you. Trust me, Cami. He wants you to be another notch on his headboard.”

My breath caught, surprised at his remark. Clay had never spoken to me this way about other guys. He seemed truly upset.

“I’m not the notch-making kind of girl, in case you’ve forgotten,” I snapped, suddenly irritated by his remark.

“Of course I haven’t.” Clay reached over and slid his hand down my arm.  He grasped my hand, squeezing it. “And I want to help you stay that way. Who knows how this guy would try to take advantage of you?”

“He can’t take advantage of me if I’m not interested.”

“You’re interested. You know you are. I’ve seen the way you look at him too.” He sighed and released me.

I grabbed him back and laced my fingers with his. “I don’t need any guy in my life besides you. Things are perfect just the way they are.”

He visibly relaxed and smiled, looking at me sweetly. “I agree. Stick with me, baby,” he added in an exaggerated attempt at a suave voice, and I laughed hard.

It always amazed me that no one noticed how cute Clay was. Well, I mean I guess Marcy did, but she wasn’t around to show it. Clay met her when he was staying at his aunt’s house during winter break, and he was constantly talking about and texting her.

True, Clay had no sense of fashion whatsoever, but when he was laying here like this—mostly undressed, no glasses, his blond hair spiked from being in the water—he actually looked kind of adorable. I would’ve probably been impressed with his attempt at abs even if I hadn’t been in such recent proximity to Hunter. Clay had obviously been working out; he was getting some definition to his physique. I didn’t know why, but the mental image of him lifting weights made me snicker.

“What?” Clay asked, lifting his head a little to squint with one eye. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” I grinned and bit my lip.

“Don’t make me come tickle it out of you.”

“You’d have to be able to actually see me for that to happen. I know you’re nearly blind as a bat without your glasses,” I teased.

“I’m not that bad.” He looked upset by my remark.

I nudged his arm. “I’m just kidding.”

“Whatever.”

“That’s it.” I moved and tickled him first.

He jerked away in surprise over my attack and laughed before coming back after me.

I squealed and curled up in a ball to protect myself. He rolled over from his chair onto me, tickling me all over as I wriggled. I tried to get away, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them up over my head.

“I surrender!” I shouted, unable to stop my fit of giggles.

“Good choice,” he replied as he stared down. His smile slowly slid from his face and he was suddenly serious.

I squirmed underneath him trying to get free, and he shifted, looking  uncomfortable. “Time for a dip, I think.” He stood up and scooped me off the chair while I kicked and screamed. Then he jumped into the ice cold water, drowning us both.

“You haven’t been around as much, Clay. How are you liking your classes this semester?” my mom asked as she cut some more of her famous chicken salad sandwiches into fourths and slid the heaping plate toward us.

Clay shrugged, fidgeting a little with the hem on his shorts. “It’s more of the same, I guess. They’re all right. I wish I had more classes with Cami, though.”

“Aw, that’s sweet!” I leaned against him, and he wrapped his arm around me, giving my shoulders a squeeze.

 He smiled radiantly. “Classes are always more enjoyable with you.”

“I feel the same way. I’m glad we have band and chemistry together at least. We’ve had lots of good times in those.”

“And lunch! Don’t forget that,” he added, making a gagging motion.

“Of course not. I need someone to make fun of the cafeteria food with me. We’ve made some great sculptures with that stuff.”

“Things worthy of a science project on occasion.”

“The food there is a science project.”

“Hopefully the school board will decide to let us have open lunches again.”

A solemn wave washed through the room, and I thought about the crack down by the school after Jordan Henley had died. They were worried about the kids doing drugs and had closed the school campus in an attempt to make things safer.

“I’m assuming you’ve decided not to attend the fundraiser. What plans do you two have for this evening?” Mom asked, deftly changing the subject.

“I thought maybe we could go see the newest, latest, and greatest action movie that’s out,” Clay said and turned to me. “What do you think? Are you up for that?”

“Sure. It’ll be fun to get out and hang with you for a little while again. We haven’t been able to do that much. You’ve been really busy lately.”

“Just trying to keep up on all my assignments, like you.”

“And talking to Marcy,” I teased, winking.

His face colored. “And working at the theater, like you. I wish Jen would arrange the schedule again. I liked our shifts on the same nights.”

I shrugged. “So talk to her. Maybe she can put in a word for us with Jon and get it switched back.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled. “I better go home and get ready. Do you want to grab a burger or something before?”

I nodded. “That sounds good. Is that okay with you, Mom?”

“As long as you two are home by curfew.”

“Alright,” Clay said with a grin. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

“See you then.” I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a bear hug. “Thanks for coming over today.”

“It’s been my favorite thing to do since I was five.” He hugged me back tightly. “See you tonight.”

I resumed eating my sandwich, swinging my dangling legs from the barstool like a child.

My mom glanced up from the food she was preparing for herself with a puzzled expression.

“What?” I asked.

She gestured toward the door. “I wonder if you’ve noticed that the dynamics between you and Clay have changed. He likes you.”

“He better like me. He’s my best friend.” I took another bite.

She shook her head. “No, I think you’re missing the point. I think he likes you, likes you—more than a friend.”

I choked on my last bite and started coughing. “No way.” I kept coughing as she hurried and got me a glass of water. I took a heavy drink before placing the cup on the counter and staring at her. “You aren’t serious, are you?”

My mom sighed as she continued chopping a tomato for her salad. “I’m just calling it as I see it. You haven’t noticed the changes? Working out more, wearing nicer labels of clothing—even if they are still plaid. He finds reasons to touch you a lot more often too.”

I couldn’t help my gaping mouth; my world was turning upside down. Suddenly I was afraid. “I hope you’re wrong about this, Mom. It will ruin everything.”

“So, I’m guessing that means you don’t reciprocate?”

I groaned. “Not. In. The. Slightest.” I replied, emphasizing each word. “What should I do? Should I call him and cancel our plans? I think of him like a brother, and I don’t want to lead him on.”

“I don’t think so. I may be seeing something that isn’t there. I’d go and see what happens with him tonight.” She stared at me pointedly. “Just be careful. He seems different to me for some reason.”

“Okay.” I pushed my plate away, my appetite suddenly gone. “I’m going to go get showered now. Thanks for lunch, Mom.”

She gave me a sorrowful smile, and I left. I closed the door to my room behind me and flopped onto my bed with a groan, burying my face into the pillow. This was so not what I needed to hear right now. I hoped she was wrong, but she seemed to possess an uncanny sense of intuition about things.

If she was right, I was going to have to find some way to put the brakes on, but I didn’t want to come right out and crush him. Images of our tickle fight and holding hands by the pool popped into my head. Suddenly, actions that had seemed so intimately friendly took on another quality all together.

I got up and wandered over to my closet, trying to decide what to wear. Normally, I’d have thrown any old thing on to hang out with Clay, totally happy to be my comfortable self. However, tonight I was torn. Did I dress down to discourage him? Or should I dress up with the hope of flirting with some other guy there. That would show him I wasn’t into him romantically. Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Maybe I needed to try and do some things with other people so he wouldn’t think we were having some kind of exclusive arrangement.

I reached into the closet to get my newest outfit I’d been saving for something special.

“Oh, Clay. Why’d you have to go and change? It ruins everything,” I said aloud. I hugged the clothes to me before laying them on my bed and heading into the bathroom.

I was going to hate doing this to him.