I found Quinn sitting on Robin's couch in the living room, nursing a plastic cup and a bruised ego.

"Hey," I said, plopping on the seat beside her.

"Hey," she replied, sipping her drink in empty silence.

A rap song blasted from the speakers. Robin's parents had re-decorated since my last visit. The furniture was still upscale, but less rustic now, more modern than it used to be. A group of girls I didn't recognize waved as they passed. I waved back, biting my lip in embarrassment.

"Don't you think it's weird that we're both here?" Quinn brushed her hair form her face.

"What do you mean?"

"If you can't get in an Easton party, you're nothing. You stopped being friends with Robin, and I got kicked off the squad—we're outcasts. So why are we here?"

"Robin wants to prove Tyler belongs to her. Either that or all her friends have knives in their back pockets."

"I saw your dance with Tyler. You're really good, Ali—like, tour-for-Gaga-good. I promise I'm not trying to mess that up for you. I won't pretend that dumping cheap beer all over Tyler's shoes didn't bring me immense joy, but he was right about me being a shitty friend. You have to stop smoking, Aaliyah."

I rolled my eyes. "You and Tyler are so dramatic."

"Not as dramatic as pretending not to have feelings for someone you obviously like. If this party is just one of Robin's traps, then she's already caught you. If you like Tyler, just admit it."

The sip from my red cup didn't burn enough to numb the truth. Being with Tyler would mean being in his shadow. It would mean putting his career first and my dreams second. And if my dancing career kicked off, people would call it nepotism and accuse Tyler of pulling strings. That's not the kind of dancer I wanted to be.

"I kind of changed our plans. After the party, I'm going home with Declan. Tyler punched him in the face out in the woods, so I get to play nurse. You can take the Jeep home. I'll swing by and grab the keys tomorrow."

I was getting used to Quinn making decisions without me. "Sure. Whatever."

"Yeah. Whatever." Quinn got up from the couch, leaving her mess behind. Pouring whatever was in her cup into mine, I took a big sip and wiped my mouth. From a busy corner, where Eric was the epicenter of the group, he cast a signal nod. It looked like there was something he wanted to say, like any minute he would walk over here and admit something only alcohol could say.

I did us both a favor when I got up and left.

***

I wandered a hallway on the fourth floor because going home and falling asleep to Netflix was way too lame. As if being alone at a party wasn't bad enough, I tortured myself by scrolling through social media on my phone. Robin's back handsprings were perfectly executed, her jumps were flawless. I clicked on a picture of her at the talent show, dancing onstage. Makeup flawless, she hardly broke a sweat under the searing heat of the stage lights. Her timing was precise, her execution impeccable. She would have been unstoppable in ballet.

A kissing couple bumped my arm on their way past. I nearly dropped my phone, spilling my drink down my shirt trying to save it. My Kim Petras ringtone sounded. I glanced at my screen, hesitating before hitting the answer button.

"What's the teenage version of a cat-lady?"

"A drama student."

I chuckled. "What do you want, Tyler?"

"Second floor bedroom—it's the door with the mirror. Don't keep me waiting, Preston." Tyler hung up before I could say no.

I rolled my eyes.

***

I waited until the hallway was clear, then slipped into the room and locked the door behind me. The bedroom was champagne tones, with ornately carved furniture. The cozy queen-sized bed was pushed to the wall, marked by a tufted headboard that reached the ceiling. White, gauzy curtains flowed at French doors leading to a balcony that overlooked the garden. Town lights winked in the distance.

Tyler sat on the edge of the bed, playing with the silver rings on his finger. I leaned against the door, arms folded, a red cup perched in my hand.

"Do you know how this looks?"

"You and Astrid worry more about my image than I do. I just wanted to talk in private." Tyler smoothed a spot on the bed. "I won't bite."

I walked to the bed, taking a prim seat next to Tyler.

"Ali, I think we need to clear the air. About your mom."

I didn't say a word. I got up and walked across the room, headed for a door I prayed wasn't a closet. It opened to a sparkling, marble bathroom, with his and hers sinks, a vanity, and a shower as big as a sauna.

I lit a few of the decorative candles on the counter, then dug a squashed box of cigarettes from my pocket.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Tyler lingered in the doorway, fists against the frame.

"If you really wanna have this conversation, I'm gonna need a smoke." I exhaled a long stream, blowing from the side of my mouth. "My mom told me I was the best thing that ever happened to her." Leaning on the counter, I flicked ashes down the sink drain and took another drag. "I miss her, and for a while, just waking up every day without her sucked. But I'm healing. So, if you feel sorry for me, don't."

"I loved your mom too, and I know what she'd do if she knew you were smoking. Weed is one thing, but cigarettes? You're killing yourself, Aaliyah, and I won't let you do it."

Tyler advanced. He stole the cigarette from my lips and drowned it in the sink.

"Are you kidding me, Tyler? Do you know hard it is to get those?" The next thing I knew we were wrestling for the carton. Tyler succeeded, holding the cigarettes over my head, mocking me with childish taunts as I made a fool of myself trying to get them back.

"God, Tyler, you are such a hypocrite! You can do coke, get into fights, break people's cameras, but I can't have a G-D cigarette every now and then? What is it about being famous that makes you so fucking entitled?"

"Entitled? You wanna see entitled, babe? I'll show you entitled." Tyler stomped past me, dropped my cigarettes in the toilet, and flushed. Then he walked to the shower, grabbed the extendable showerhead, and turned the water on cold...

I stepped back, hands raised. "Tyler, don't you even th—"

Gasping at the water's shock, I waved in defense, yelling at Tyler to stop as he doused me head to toe. Once I had suffered to his liking, he turned off the water, and came back, glaring as I shivered in place.

"Did that wake you up? Stop fucking smoking, Aaliyah. I can't be with a girl who smokes cigarettes."

"And I can't be with a guy who missed my mom's funeral."

Tyler's expression softened to a simmer. "I didn't miss the funeral on purpose, and I'm sorry I did. You wanna punish me? Go ahead. But Amelia would be turning in her grave if she knew her only daughter was doing something that causes cancer.

"Shut up." I wiped the water from my eyes, furious. "She died from breast cancer, Tyler."

"Cancer is cancer, Aaliyah!"

Chained to the bitter prison of silence, we were so lost in each other that we both jumped when the toilet erupted. Bright blue water cascaded under the lid and splashed to the floor. Panicking, we scrambled to the shower and closed the glass door, hiding from the mess.

I shook my head at Tyler. "You're in big trouble."

He grinned. "I know," he whispered.

I laughed so hard I nearly went tumbling, my soggy boots slipping as I lost balance. Tyler grabbed me before I could fall. Tattooed hands gripping my waist, the laughter died on my lips as he pulled me close. Song lyrics danced in Tyler's emerald green eyes.

Give me a chance, girl, give me a chance

Dance my heart in circles but I can't be your man...

"I love the water on your skin..." Tyler's electric fingers traced the curve of my jaw. "And all that attitude when you dance." He played with my shirt. I shivered, goosebumps rippling across my body as his hand grazed my collarbone. "If I act entitled it's because I care about you. I don't want you to get hurt, Aaliyah." He leaned in.

Hands pressed to his hard, sculpted chest, I hesitated. "I taste like cigarettes."

Tyler pressed his forehead against mine. "You're beautiful."

I drew him in, slowly, one hand pressed to his stubbled cheek. He hesitated, pulling back with a teasing grin, my heart jumping when he snared me with a lightning kiss.

We took it slow, savoring every moment. Tyler's lips were soft and wet, rough warm hands exploring beneath my skirt as we French kissed. But it was more than kissing. We devoured each other...

We burst through the bedroom door, kicking off our shoes and loosening our shirts. I tossed mine aside and jumped into his arms, legs around his waist as he carried me to the bed. We fell on the mattress, laughing. Straddling my waist, Tyler sat up and removed his shirt, revealing waves of smooth, golden skin. He dived in for another kiss and we rolled, switching positions. Tyler gripped my thighs, his head lifting from the pillows as he chased my lips.

I swept my hair to the side, grinning as Tyler's gaze traced the gold body chain that disappeared under my skirt. His palm traveled up my stomach, to the black bralette. The ribbons were tied in a bow at the back of my neck, just waiting to be undone.

"No labels, okay?" I leaned down, my curls falling like a curtain he smoothed with his hand. "And I'm not a virgin, so don't treat me like glass. It's just sex."

"Not for me." Tyler sighed, dragging both hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, Ali. I can't do this." He sat up, swinging his legs over the bed. Legs tucked beneath me, I waited for him to explain away the stinging behind my eyes.

"We almost kissed in my kitchen. I know you felt something, Tyler, because I feel it too."

"I'm saying no to a beautiful, half-naked girl. You think this is easy for me?" Tyler shook his head, hands in his lap. "I want you. But you don't know what you want yet, and that's okay. We can take it slow. You, in a prom dress, my corsage on your wrist, that's my fantasy. Not like this."

I swallowed the thorns in my throat. My first time being rejected. There's nothing more brutal than being turned down by a boy who respects you.

"You're really sweet." Tyler settled back on the pillows, his arm around my shoulders as I lay on his chest. I held his hand in mine, trying not to read into his sudden change of mind.

***