"Okay, what about Gabe Lawrence?" Luna asked eagerly.

"You mean the will do your math homework for you in exchange for sex?" I visibly cringed when she verified it was the same Gabe Lawrence. "I think I'll pass."

She hummed and contemplated for a few moments before lighting up with excitement. "I know! Addison Clark?"

"The girl that un-ironically dresses like Justin Bieber during his fuckboy era? No thanks."

"Emily Scott?"

"Ha. No."

"Why no? She's pretty."

"I've seen cardboard boxes with more personality than her, Luna."

"Fine, then. Ian Addams?"

"Who?"

"Madeline!" She exclaimed. "Come on, help me out here. This won't work if you're not even trying."

"Sorry that I have standards for whom I choose to associate myself with romantically," I responded, relieved to find that we were pulling into Zach's driveway and I would only have to endure this for a little bit longer.

"If your flirting is anything like that robotic response you just gave me, I would consider lowering my standards," She suggested, sticking her tongue out when I scowled at her.

"I know how to flirt," I insisted.

"Yes, and I inherently knew how to suck a dick and didn't learn from watching porn videos."

I winced. "There are some things we just don't need to share with one another."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't act like that's not how you learned, too."

"If it was, I wouldn't vocalize it like it was the equivalent to watching Khan Academy videos for extra help in maths."

"It's basically the same thing."

"I'm going to disagree with you on that one, but sure."

She flipped me off as she pushed open the front door to Zach's house and announced our arrival. Zach was already sitting in the living room talking with Jason, while Dylan and Carson weren't anywhere to be found yet.

Luna still seemed overly distressed about the fact that I was single, whereas I could really care less. That was the charm of our friendship– we were polar opposites in every way imaginable. Our looks, for example: she's kind of tall and I'm an average height; she's blonde, I'm brunette; my eyes are greenish, hers are bluish; I have maturity and she doesn't.

Upon seeing how upset she was, I sighed and looped my arm through hers, "Have you ever considered that maybe, just possibly, I'm happy being single?"

"No."

I gave her a very unamused look. "Seriously, I don't need you setting me up with someone."

"You're funny if you think this is for you," She responded, an air of humor to her tone now. "This is about my precious gas tank. Fuel prices are going up, up, up, Madeline."

I rolled my eyes, "Please, your dad is the biggest softie. All you'd have to do is pout your lips and he would pay for your gas for an entire year." She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something to contradict my statement, but decided against it a moment later. I continued, "This is about not having anyone other than Zach in your car."

"Fine, whatever, that may be part of the reason," She divulged, as she pulled us into Zach's living room. "But also, you could, I don't know, this is just a suggestion: drive yourself."

So she may have a fair point here, as reluctant as I am to admit it. I've had my license for over a year and a car that I could drive, should I choose to. However, I don't really like driving myself, probably because every time I get in a car with me, I'm half-convinced I will die.

"Oh, Luna," I laughed. "Luna, Luna, Luna. You're either a hot girl or a good driver. I can't help that I'm a hot girl."

Upon seeing the smirk on my face, she scowled and shook her head. "You're infuriating, you know that? This is why you have no friends."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine. If it'll get you off of my ass, I will start driving myself to school. On occasion."

"Yes, that actually does make me feel better," She responded, huffing dramatically. "But for further compensation, we have to go to the mall this weekend as well."

"What does the mall have to do with anything? I mean, I'm all for shopping, but-"

"Silly, we're not going to the mall to shop," She laughed, patting my arm sympathetically. "We're going to watch the people. Especially the single ones."

"Luna, you have a boyfriend," I reminded her. "A boyfriend who is sitting approximately three feet away from us."

"I didn't mean for me, I meant for you," She answered. "Besides, there's no harm in window shopping."

I rolled my eyes at her as we separated so she could sit down on the couch next to her boyfriend, and I opted for the open seat next to Dylan, who had appeared from wherever he was, and grabbed the bowl of popcorn from off of the table.

Dylan reached for the remote and started scrolling through the list of options on Netflix. His most demanding audience member was Luna, who would cheer in favor of certain movies that Dylan would click on, then proceed to grumble when Dylan ignored her request and move on down the list. In his defense, she has a weird taste in movies.

"What are we watching?" Carson asked, hopping over the couch, and landing on the other side of me. He had made sure to leave a healthy amount of distance in between us, but that didn't stop me from shifting closer to Dylan.

"You scoot any closer to Dylan, people might think you've got a thing for him," He joked, letting out a laugh as if he actually said something that was in the least bit funny.

"And if you sleep with any more girls, people might think that you're the incarnation of chlamydia."

He snorted in disapproval, "You're just jealous that you aren't one of them."

"One of what? The recipients of the many STDs you've concocted and spread? Oh yes, Carson, I'm so jealous."

"Whatever, Princess."

As long as I could remember, Carson's favorite nickname to taunt me with was 'Princess.' I was sure he started it in an attempt to shame me for my parents being well off, but pretty much everyone else that goes to Valor had parents that were well off. To make the matter of the nickname even less feasible, his parents work with mine. However, none of that ever dissuaded him from using the nickname; he knew that calling me 'Princess' got under my skin, so he kept the nickname as his personal weapon.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" I gritted out.

"Don't know," He shrugged as he reach out an arm and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl. "I stopped counting after freshman year."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I could so slap you right now, and I wouldn't even feel bad about it."

"Go ahead," He goaded. "I'm sure a toddler could do more collateral damage than you."

I was about to test his theory out, but Luna's shrill voice of protest kept me from doing it. "Nuh-uh, one of you is moving!" She demanded, pointing at Carson and I. "You ruined our last movie night because you two couldn't stop yelling at each other. Unless you can somehow manage to go two hours without fighting, move."

"I was here first," I insisted, leaning into the couch cushion to prove my point that I would not be the one moving.

"How mature, Princess," He said rolling his eyes. I was so close to hitting him, but I think Dylan remembered the verbal fight that broke out from the last time I hit Carson because I felt his hands pull mine behind my back to restrain me.

"Whatever, I have to leave soon anyways, I can hold my tongue for a little while. It'll be difficult," Carson said eyeing me over, "Especially since she makes it so easy."

I drew in a breath, trying to calm my nerves and hold back from lunging at him. Luna opened her mouth to scold us all once again, but Dylan had finally settled on a movie and pressed play to shut us all up. Luna settled against Zach's side and glared in our direction a final time before doing her best to tune us out and watch the movie.

"Where do you have to go?" Dylan whispered over to Carson. "Do you have a date?"

"It's not a date," Carson responded, his lips curling up at the corners. "But I do have a girl."

I made a gagging noise, which triggered another trade of insults between Carson and I before Luna yelled at us to shut up again. It was another fifteen minutes or so before Carson finally left, but not before him and Dylan did this whole bro handshake/hug thing.

I never really understood the relationship between Carson and Dylan. Everyone who knew them knew they were best friends, but it didn't always seem that way. Dylan would privately complain to me about stunts Carson would pull at a party or something stupid he did to get a girl off his case. He always made Carson sound like a villain, and was constantly advising me to never get involved with him– not that I ever would. So, the fact that, beyond all of that, they were still very close was a little offsetting to me.

It had only been a half hour into the movie before I started struggling to keep my eyes open; the room had gotten much more silent since Carson had left, and we had turned off all of the lights to see the television better. Dylan had put on some random Marvel movie, and, on a good day, I would care, but I just did not have the energy today.

I decided there was no harm in simply resting my eyes, so long as I opened them before the movie ended. However, the plan didn't go so well, and it seemed like only a few moments later that Dylan was nudging my arm in an attempt to wake me up.

"Maddie," He called when I worked up the energy to open one of my eyes. "Your mother called you– three times." I groaned and turned in to Dylan's arm, determined to go back to sleep before I lost my tired. "She wants you to come home," He continued.

"Why?" I mumbled lazily.

"Do I look like your mother?" He asked. "How in the hell would I know?"

I yawned, but pulled myself up. "Fine, I'll go. Luna drove me here, can you give me a ride home?"

Dylan sighed before pulling out his car keys and tossing them to me. "Drive yourself, I'll go home with J." He pointed at me with a serious look on his face. "Wreck my baby and I wreck you."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving him off, fighting back another yawn. I mumbled out a goodbye to everyone before trudging off for Dylan's car.

* * *

"Mom, I'm home!" I called as I pushed open the front door, tossing Dylan's keys on the table by the door. As if I had whispered some magical summoning charm, she came rushing out of the kitchen, stopping in front of me with an overly sweet smile. One of those signature mom smiles that says 'I did something that you won't like but you have to love me anyway because I'm your mother' type of smiles.

"Mom, what did you do?"

"Well, hello to you too, darling," She sassed. "My day was lovely, thank you so much for asking."

I rolled my eyes, "Hello, mother. How was your day? Good? Great, so was mine! Now, what did you do?"

"How dare you accuse me of doing something," She said, holding a hand to her chest, as if wounded her. I raised a brow, and waited for her to continue. "I do need a tiny favor."

I crossed my arms over my chest, "Why do I have a feeling this favor isn't tiny?"

She held up a finger to silence me, wordlessly expressing that I should quit while I'm ahead. "I have a couple of associates coming over for dinner tonight."

"Mom, you know I hate your dinner parties."

"Yes, I know. But I promise this is, most likely, the last one I will need you at for the rest of the year."

"Why do you even need me? I know my pretty face is good for marketing," I said, earning an eye roll from her. I continued on anyways, "I don't see how I'm really important to a couple of random associates."

"Because they wanted to see you, and I promised you would be there."

I groaned, "Fine."

She smiled, pleased with my answer. "Thank you, not that you really had a choice. Now, can you go get dressed, please?"

I looked down at my clothes, then back at her. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?"

"Darling, it's a business dinner, not a Playboy mansion party."

"Should I be offended by that?"

She shrugged, "Fashion's a made up concept. Although, I'll tell you, what your father wore in college was just plain awful– you'd think growing up with sisters he would have known a little something about how to dress."

"And yet you picked him."

"Love is not something you pick, darling," She insisted. "If it was, I would have picked Bradley Cooper and been a great trophy wife."

I rolled my eyes, "Sure, mother. Whatever you say."

She eyed my outfit once more before pointing to the stairs. I made a dramatic show about going up, but eventually complied and went to my bedroom to change into something 'more appropriate.' I threw on the first decently modest dress, a light pink mini dress that went down to my mid-thigh, before running a brush through my hair and calling it good enough.

It wasn't long after that my mother was calling my down, and I figured whatever 'associates' she invited for dinner had already arrived. I quickly slid on a pair of shoes and made my way back down into the living room.

"There she is," My father, who must have just walked in the door himself, greeted as he held out an arm for me. I made my way over to where he stood alongside my mother. Across from them stood a couple that seemed about the same age as them and vaguely familiar.

The woman had black hair that had been pulled up into an elegant French twist, and her big brown eyes stood out against her rosy cheeks. The man standing next to her, I'm assuming her husband, had short blonde hair and green eyes which were hidden behind glasses. When I entered the room, their faces lit up with bright smiles.

"Madeline, these are our partners," My mother explained. "You've met them before, when you were younger– Eleanor and Christian."

My parents owned a large hospital, the same one Dylan's parents used to work at. It was this whole story about how my parents were in the same residency program as another couple, and a few years after passing their boards, they opened a hospital of their own together. I had met their partners when I was much younger, but it seemed that as I got older and their hospital expanded, they grew less close with their fellow co-founders.

"Your partners?" I asked her through a smile while hesitantly shaking both Eleanor and Christian's hands. My father drew their attention back to whatever story he was telling as he ushered them in the direction of the kitchen.

"Yes, dear," My mother replied, hanging back when she noticed that I hadn't moved. "Is that a problem?"

"You didn't tell me your partners were joining us."

"I don't see how it really makes much of a difference, my love," She responded, her brows knitting together momentarily. "I should go join them– we'll be in the kitchen when you're ready."

She didn't give me any time to respond before quickly walking off in the direction of the kitchen. Of course, she conveniently scurried away before I could say that yes, yes it does make a difference that these 'associates' are in fact their partners. A huge one.

I closed my eyes, trying to think of every sin I've committed recently that might have led me to here, and sent a quick prayer up to God asking him to please look past these sins, at least for tonight. The hopes of a divine intervention became futile as I heard footsteps approaching from behind me.

I refused to face him, hoping that if I just pretended he wasn't here, he would get the message that he wasn't wanted and silently wander off into the night. Of course, he was never one to take a hint.

"Your ass looks good in that dress."

I turned around, inwardly reminding myself to keep my calm and not let him get to me. That sentiment was really tested as he continued to stare up my body, not caring that I was watching him do it.

Finally, his eyes met mine, and the corner of his lips tugged up. "Miss me, Princess?"

Carson.