After we returned to the clearing where everyone parked, Clay cut the engine and immediately jumped off the ATV. He hung his helmet on the handlebar and raced over to join his friends, throwing a look over his shoulder at me, a deep crease of concern between his brows. He pressed his lips into such a tight line; it looked like he didn't have any.

I sighed, my heart heavy. Clay felt it. I was afraid he might when it happened, but I had no control of it. I never should have squeezed him so tight. I only did it because I was terrified I would fall off when Clay took that one hill. Would he believe it was the vibration of the ATV that caused it? Not the truth—that I'd been fantasizing about him the whole time I had my arms around him.

Jackson hopped up in the truck bed and opened an ice chest. He passed out cans of beer. "Yo, Clay. Want one?"

Clay glanced back at me before turning to Jackson, nodding.

Jackson tossed the can. Clay caught it easily. I wouldn't begrudge Clay this. I could drive his car and then walk home. He had pointed out his house this morning. It wasn't even a mile from my house. If I cut through the huge cement drainage ditch that stretched through the neighborhood, I could be home in ten minutes. I could make up a story about why I was walking home.

"Emmett!" Jackson raised a beer in question.

I shook my head as I neared the group, rubbing my hand up and down my arm.

Clay moved farther away as if we were two magnets, repelling each other, unable to connect. He wouldn't even look at me now.

I really hoped he didn't freak out too much. Even if he didn't want me the way I wanted him to, I still wanted him as a friend. He was such a sweet guy, and he made me want to open up. So few people did that for me. The list pretty much consisted of Carrie, Dr. Herrera, and my mom. Although there was a lot my mom and the good doctor didn't know. And if I had my way, my mom wouldn't find out any of it until it was too late for her to ground me.

"Look at this asshole, showing up late," Jackson said as a silver SUV pulled into the clearing.

"As usual," said the blond boy standing next to Clay—Jackson called him Brandon when offering him a beer. His teeth were too white and even though his clothes were just as tattered as the others, his jeans had a Diesel tag and his shirt was Ralph Lauren. He was the one driving that gas guzzling monstrosity we followed back here.

I was barely paying attention to any of them. I didn't care about them or the newcomer and his apparent chronic lateness. All I cared about was catching Clay's eye to make sure things wouldn't be weird between us. He just stood there, staring at his unopened beer can pensively.

"Did you dickheads start without me?" the new guy asked.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, but I wasn't sure why.

"Relax. We just did one lap," Brandon said. "You can get in on the next one."

"Beer, Duke?" Jackson asked.

Duke must have agreed because a beer can flew across the space, startling me to take a step back.

They all laughed. I thought for a moment that they were laughing at my reaction, but one of the unnamed guys—the stout one with a shock of orangish-red hair—said, "Good thing you're not a receiver, butterfingers. Otherwise our team would be fucked."

"Fuck you, Mark. Linebackers are a dime a dozen." That voice sounded vaguely familiar. It wasn't deep enough to be Jackson. Nor the raspiness of Brandon. And it definitely wasn't the honey sweet tone of Clay's voice.

I looked over at the new guy. An icicle stabbed through my heart at the sight of the dark-skinned Adonis with the chiseled jawline. "Alfie?" The name slipped from my lips before I could stop myself.

They all looked at me, but I was staring at my ex-boyfriend. My very closeted ex-boyfriend.

"Who the fuck is Alfie?" asked the gangly boy, wearing a camouflage shirt and matching hat.

"Christ, Tyler!" Brandon smacked the back of Camo Boy's head. "Duke's first name is Alfonso, dumbass."

"Since when?"

"Hey, dude. Long time, no see." Alfie said, as if we barely knew each other. As if he hadn't taken my virginity. As if he hadn't shattered my heart.

I forced a nod. I wasn't even sure my head actually moved enough to be perceptible. I could barely breathe. I couldn't blink at all as water seeped around the edge of my eyes. Contrarily, Alfie seemed great. He looked great. Hotter than ever. His muscles had grown some. He'd traded his flattop for a shaved head, and his face had cleared up a lot since I last saw him. That was almost a year ago.

"Motherfucker!" Clay yelled.

Everyone's attention shifted to him. His beer spouted out a stream of foam. "You asshole." He glared over at Jackson. "You did that on purpose."

Jackson held up his hands. "It wasn't me. It must've got shook up in the cooler."

Clay held the beer at arm's length, letting the overflow pour into the grass. "I can't drink this. It's all fucking foam."

"Want another one?" Jackson asked.

"Nah." Clay set the can on the rail of the trailer and flicked his hand to clear off the excess liquid. "I'm good."

Clay finally looked at me. His eyes stuck on me.

I did our secret sign, hoping Clay would still be willing to leave his friends for my sake. I couldn't stay here with Alfie. Or was it Duke now?

Clay pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Shit! My mom just texted. She needs me back home."

"You only got to do one lap," Mark said.

Clay shrugged. "She pays for my car insurance and gas. Can't say no."

I released the breath I'd been holding. Even if Clay never spoke to me again after today, I would still be eternally grateful to him for keeping his word in this moment.

"Sorry, Emmett," Clay said. "We gotta go."

I nodded and walked toward him.

"Hey, Emmett," Jackson called. "If you want to stay, I can drive you home."

I knew Jackson was only trying to be nice, including me, but I really wanted to punch him in the face for the offer. Couldn't he see I was on the verge? Honestly, I hoped he couldn't. Because that would mean Alfie couldn't see it either. I didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing he could still get to me, even after this long.

"That's okay," I squeaked out. My voice sounded so weak. "Thanks though."

Jackson's eyes jumped to Alfie/Duke. He nodded, a knowing look on his face. He seemed to realize there was something else going on.

"Tell Carrie I'll come by later," Jackson said.

"Sure." I rushed toward Clay's car.

"Are you okay?" Clay asked when we got our doors closed.

"Please, just drive before I burst into tears in front of your friends."

Clay nodded and cranked the car. He whipped the car around, like this was one of those stupid Fast & Furious movies, and sped down the road. I barely noticed the bumps this time. I was already reeling from seeing Alfie.

"What happened?"

"I can't talk about it," I said.

I wouldn't out Alfie. No matter how heartless he'd been to me when he abruptly stopped talking to me just after our four-month anniversary.

"Did he bully you or something?" Clay asked. "He can be a dick sometimes."

"He didn't bully me. Although he did utterly destroy my soul."

I should not have said that.

Clay narrowed his eyes beneath deeply furrowed brows as he watched the road. His face suddenly shifted, his features stretching into a mask of awareness. He glanced at me. "Were you guys—"

I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the headrest. I'd already said too much.

"I never would've guessed that Duke is gay."

"He's not gay," I spat.

Honestly, I didn't know how Alfie identified. He said he liked girls, and he certainly seemed to like me. But I would not say any of that. I still felt like I needed to protect Alfie. It might be stupid, but I would want the same consideration if I were in his position.

"But you hooked up? Dated?"

I rolled my eyes, propping my arm on the door, covering my mouth with my hand. "Why do you care? Is this going to change how you see him?"

"I don't know. I've never been through this kind of thing."

"He's still Al—" I paused to correct myself, because he wasn't Alfie to Clay "—Duke."

"I know that. I just mean that when you learn something about a person, it can change your perception of them. That doesn't mean it's a negative change, but this is a huge thing I just learned."

I turned to glare at Clay. "You didn't learn anything. I didn't say anything."

"I'm not going to go up to him and say I know, if that's what you're worried about."

I shook my head. I didn't know how to feel right now. I hated Alfie, but I also kind of still loved him. How twisted was that?

"Emmett." Clay's voice sounded far away.

"What?" I snapped. I didn't want to talk about this anymore.

"I'm sorry I freaked out earlier. It wasn't about you."

I stared at Clay, shocked that he was bringing this up. "It felt like it was about me."

Clay licked his lips. I pushed the thought of kissing him away as soon as it popped up. He clearly didn't want that. I got my answer loud and clear. He literally ran away from the evidence of my attraction to him.

"I wasn't trying to make a move on you, if that's what you're worried about," I said, sullenly.

"I'm not worried, Emmett." The corner of Clay's mouth curved up, giving me a glimmer of hope that I could salvage this friendship.

Hoping to reassure Clay, I added, "Trust me, it'll never happen again. I'm not into you like that. I'm not desperate enough for affection to go after you. It was totally involuntary. Like you in math class."

Clay's smile fell away. He nodded. "Right. Okay. Good."

"I know we just met, but I really like being your friend, Clay. I don't want to jeopardize that because of something I can't control."

"I like being your friend, too," Clay said, glancing at me with a tight smile. "And, trust me, we're cool."

I was pleased to hear it. I'd never been drawn to anyone the way I was to Clay. I didn't want to give that up, no matter what it took to keep him.