"Public school kids complain that we get too many days off," Lisa said.

Alison laughs, "why do they care?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's because we're supposed to be working harder and fewer school days make it seem like we're not."

I roll my eyes, "our test scores would say otherwise."

"I'm taking my SATs again. My score was so embarrassing."

"What was it?" Alison asks.

"...1380."

I tune them both out as my eyes follow Leo passing by us with his friends.

A gasp fills my chest and I happily call out for him, "Leo!"

But...he continues walking as if I'm not even here.

Alison looks at me in confusion and then shakes her head. "He didn't hear you."

"No, he did."

And it was clear to all of us that he ignored me without a second thought.

They walk beside me awkwardly now, not knowing whether or not we should talk about it or pretend it never happened...

"You know what will cheer you up?" Lisa smiles, "The Hamptons next week."

"Why are so many people going this year? Did they find gold?"

"There's a big bonfire party everyone's excited for. It will be a mixer for all of us who go to different schools."

"Ah, I see, fresh faces, new mistakes." Count me out.

"Spring romance," Alison sighs blissfully.

"I don't have love in the Hamptons, I have it here."

"Yes, running away from you," she motions toward where Leo went.

"Walking," I correct her.

"You should still come with us. Even if it's not for fresh faces and friends in new places."

"What's the plan for every other day?"

"Ew, every other day? No, Heather, the party is the last weekend of spring break. No one wants to waste a vacation in the cold."

"You know who won't be there at all?" Lisa said slyly.

"Who?"

She points at Ethan. "Him."

"Why not?"

"I hear he bought his own club."

My eyebrows furrow, "Ethan?"

He turns at the sound of his name.

"Ladies, gossiping is rude."

"Okay then. Are the rumors true? Did you open up a club?" I ask him.

"Depends on why you want to know."

"Would you let us in?" Lisa says eagerly.

"It's not a place for nice girls like you. You're better off not going."

I scoff, "If you can handle it, she can handle it. You're just as soft as any one of us, Richie Rich."

He scoffs back, "you sound just like one of them."

"Them?"

"You know exactly who I'm referring to," he shakes his head. "But I hear you loud and clear. You all are more than welcome to Carnal, on one condition— Heather is your entry ticket. That is if she can still handle not being the wealthiest person in the room."

Ethan gives me a sarcastic wave 'goodbye' before continuing off to be a pompous dick to the rest of the world.

"What an asshole," I roll my eyes.

"You can get back at him by going," Lisa suggests.

"You're only saying that so you can go."

"Aren't you even a little curious?" Alison adds.

"It's Ethan. He's just Trevor lite which means his so-called club is just a room full of strippers and alcohol."

"He and Trevor have just as many differences as they do similarities, trust me I would know."

"I don't want to go, you guys. I bet he was bluffing, he wouldn't turn you away at the door."

"Forget about that, we never go out anymore," Lisa whines. "You turned down the Hamptons, and now you're turning down a night out."

"I love how both of those examples come from today," I say defensively.

"You know, this is why I said your double life never mixes. It's because you're cutting off the part that has us in it."

"You're guilt-tripping me," I argue and she pokes her bottom lip out to pout. Not going to work. I look over at Lisa and see she's doing the same thing. You've got to be kidding me. "Alright, When are we doing this?"

Evan chuckles before leaning back against the wall, smirking at the boy in front of him. Typical Evan Andrews move. The smirk, the side-glance, the cool-headed confidence.

Logan Sullivan is his newest victim. He's in band and always has on a hoodie. But, let's just hope he fairs better than I did.

Well, I guess he will since neither of them has anything to hide.

Evan must've caught a glimpse of me from the corner of his eye because out of nowhere, he turned and looked right at me.

Oops.

I face the opposite direction and keep my head down as if my shoes have suddenly become very interesting. Walking away would only sacrifice my chance of playing this off.

Evan crosses his arms as he steps in front of me. "Stalker."

"I'm not stalking. You were just standing where my eyes were looking."

"Oh, my bad then."

"Happens to the best of us."

He laughs and shakes his head, "Later, Zach."

"Can I ask you something?" I say before he could leave.

"What's up?"

"Remember when you came over to my house that time..."

"Which time?"

"The time you and your hand..." Evan still doesn't catch on, "and me and my-"

He chuckles, "Yeah, I remember. I just wanted to see if you'd say it."

"Thanks for that," I glare at him.

"Why are you asking anyway?"

"Because...I wasn't the first guy, right?"

"No, I went to summer camp."

What is that supposed to mean?

"How far have you gone...with a guy?"

A confused smile appears on his face, "What's with the 21 questions?"

I sigh, "Aaron has hooked up a ton of times— so, I said I have too because-"

"Because he finished the game and you're only on level 2."

"And I can't stall forever, right? Last time I told him I didn't want to because his parents were home and it freaked me out— which was half true, but I don't want him to realize I just don't know what I'm doing."

"You can stall forever. There shouldn't be any pressure, Zach," Evan gets weirdly serious.

"He's not pressuring me."

"I don't think you're ready."

"I am."

"Then you're not comfortable with him."

I scoff repeatedly at the accusation, "yes, I am."

"Oh, yeah?" He challenges, "You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

"Then why won't you do it?"

"Because I'll suck."

"Good," Evan smirks, "he'd like that."

I huff and push past him, "If you're not gonna help-"

"What can I do? Talk you through it? It doesn't work like that, it just happens naturally, you're not supposed to think about it this much."

"Forget it," I wave him off.

"No, Zach-" he stammers, "come over, we'll figure it out."

"How?"

"We just will."

"Hi."

I lift my head and see Heather standing there.

"Leo's not here."

"No, he doesn't want to see me," she takes a seat in front of me.

"Okay?"

"I don't know what to do."

"Leave him alone?"I look at her like she's crazy. "Does it really sound that hard?"

"Well..." She sighs sadly.

"Look, if he's not talking to you then you fucked up 'cause communication is his thing. He's a fucking diplomat."

"Yes...I realize that."

"He won't even tell me what you did."

"And that's bad?"

"Yeah, it's pretty bad." She gets even sadder, and I roll my eyes. "Just give him some space. He'll come around when he comes around."

"I bought him a gift," Heather starts to take it out of her bag.

"No," I shake my head, "put it away."

"But-"

"No," I shake my head again, "that's not gonna get him to cool off."

"Okay," Heather gets up from the table, "he'll come around..."

I shrug, "yeah, probably."

She doesn't even pretend to like that answer, but, oh well, can't buy your boyfriend back.

As soon as Heather sulks far away enough, Leo comes out of the woodworks like he fucking teleported. "What'd she want?"

"What- where did you come from?" I look to where he walked over, "were you hiding behind the bushes?" He side-eyes me and I laugh at the confirmation.

"What did you talk about?"

"You, jackass. She was all 'Leo's mad at me, what do I do?' I told her you'll get over it."

His eyes roll as he sighs. "I'll tell her not to bother you again."

"She wasn't bothering me, it was nothing." My eyebrows draw together, "What're you being mean for?"

"Oh, now I'm being mean? You don't even like her."

"I don't like anybody." He narrows his eyes skeptically. "Fine. She's alright."

"Whatever."

"Gonna go find her?"

"Yep."

"As your marriage counselor, should I tag along?" I say in amusement and he flips me off in return. "We need to talk about your anger problem."

"Which one?" The girl holds up a dark red lipstick and a violet purple.

I've seen her before, she's graduating this year and will definitely be in the running for prom queen.

"Do you have a pink?"

"No..." she sifts through her purse, "I don't."

I look through mine and manage to find one. "Here," I hand her the tube, "it washes me out anyway."

She gasps excitedly, "Thank you."

A smile subconsciously finds its way onto me as I reply: "No problem."

And my eyes can't help but fix on her reflection in the mirror when she starts to put it on. Her mouth opened slightly while she patiently drew over her full lips with the blush color. She rubbed them together after and fluffed out her hair a bit as she got a good look at herself.

I suppose you could say she's pretty.

"Headmistress Sanderson volunteered me to show around the new superintendent with her."

"Sounds interesting..."

"In comparison to what? Watching moss grow?" She derides, causing us both to laugh. "The only reason I'm doing it is because she has had her eyes on me since I got accepted to Dartmouth. She's waiting for me to do something, anything that could give her a reason to get my acceptance revoked, and you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because her ex-husband is dating my aunt." She slides her shoe off as she speaks and starts rolling a thigh-high stocking up her slim leg. "He swears their relationship began after the divorce, but no one moves in together that quickly." I watch intently as she connects the lacy white hem to the garter belt before repeating the process with her other leg, smoothly covering her soft skin all the way to her upper thigh. "Plus, headmistress Sanderson would not be out to get me if that were true."

Her shoes slip back on, and I slip back into the conversation.

"Won't your parents do something about it?"

"I considered it, but she should not have the satisfaction. Also, the entire alumni committee would be against me to protect one of their own. Old, botox-filled hags." She takes off her school shirt. "Could you hold this?"

"Oh, sure..." I say nervously and confused.

"I have to cover up, dress modestly. Even more modest than the uniform because the top fits me tighter, especially tucked in—" she looks down at her chest, "they're a little hard to miss." Little? As if. I shut my eyes to force myself back into focus. "Headmistress always tells me 'Sienna, consider ordering a size up.' She can go to hell. What do you think?"

A diamond necklace and your kind of cleavage? I'd tell her to go to hell too.

"I think she has other things she should worry about. Those girdles aren't doing her any favors."

She snickers, "exactly, but I'm the one who has to make myself presentable. Thanks for your help, by the way."

"Of course."

"And, I am so rude, I didn't even ask you for your name."

"Audrey...Michaels. I'm a junior."

"Yes, Audrey, I do know you then." No surprise. "You are sure to be me next year. Sienna Cameron," she shakes my hand, "If you want to see Headmistress fume in anger, say that name to her."

"Heather."

"Hi," she smiles despite my cold greeting.

"You can't go dragging Danny into whatever happens with us. He's got nothing to do with it."

"Well, I wasn't dragging him into anything. You weren't speaking to me, and I wanted to know if there was something I could do to fix that."

I shrug frustratedly, "It's only been a day."

"I know, but since we started dating..." Heather sighs, "nevermind."

"Just don't talk to him about it again. He doesn't even know what went down."

"Nothing went down," she pleads. "you can tell him that."

"Yeah, alright, bye," I step away from her table.

"Wait— I got you something."

"Heather, I don't want anything from you. Alright?" And why would I? "I'll talk to you later."

This is my moment to walk off. I said what I had to, I made my point clear...

But I watch her shrink back.

She nods and takes a deep breath before swallowing hard.

Butterfly...

"Right, yeah, okay," Heather tries to laugh a bit as if her eyes aren't watery. "Sorry. Danny said it was a bad idea. I should have listened." She begins to move toward the door before I stop her.

"Hey, hold on...I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine," she presses her lips into a smile. "Space...you want space. I'm sorry." She backs away from me and quickly heads out of the lunchroom.

Fuck.

I turn to the side and see Danny watching from outside of the window. He nods— as if he's telling me to go after her...or maybe that's what I want him to be saying so I feel like I'm doing the right thing by not standing my ground.

Knowing Danny the nod probably meant 'good job.'

Heather's down the hall at her locker, and she doesn't notice when I start to walk up...and hear her sniffling as she tries to put away her bag.

When she closes it, we're face to face.

You're surprised to see me?

Like I'd be able to go on with my day knowing you were crying somewhere.

"I'm okay," Heather turns away to quickly dry her eyes, though she can't wipe as fast as the tears fall.

I grab her arm and pull her in front of me against the lockers.

"No, you're not," my thumbs skim below her eyes to wipe the tears. "I wasn't trying to make you cry."

"It's fine. I'm— sorry."

"Stop apologizing to me," I say, still gently rubbing her cheek.

"I don't know what else to say..." her voice breaks and a couple more tears meet my hand.

I shake my head and wrap my arms around her, bringing her head to my chest. "Please stop crying, butterfly." She nods against me, and I feel her squeeze me tighter. I hope it's for comfort and not because she thinks I don't want to be here. "Seeing you cry really fucks me up, you know? I care about you too much." Heather moves back and looks off to the side while she dries her face. "You don't have to turn away from me to wipe your tears..." I push her hair back, and she gazes up at me...to show that she's the prettiest crybaby I'll ever see. Annoying— pretty...crybaby. My nose brushes over hers before I lean in and kiss her.

Our lips move over one another lightly, gentle to coax the sadness away.

When I kissed her more firmly— I realized she wasn't in the market for a soft kiss to make things better, no— her hand threaded into my hair and she pressed me against her.

I try not to smirk, but Heather won't even let me pull back enough for the chase. It's so needy— like there's fire on my lips, and she wants to put it out with hers. I hum through the hair tugs and gasping breaths until I finally grab hold of her arms and pry our bodies apart.

Who makes up like this?

"Do you feel better?" I suppress my laughter.

"If I say yes, will you leave?"

Why do you want me to feel so bad?

"Heather," I sigh, "do you think I'm the bad guy in this?"

"No, you're not. You have every right to be mad at me."

"I know."

"I wouldn't do anything with Jace or anyone else."

"I know," I groan, "but, Heather, if it was me in bed with my ex, you'd be really fucking upset no matter what happened."

"You're right. I'm not denying that," her eyes show sincerity. "Can I tell you 'I'm sorry' again?"

"No." I knew she regretted it when I yelled at her in the hall, but it doesn't change anything. She was still cuddling with Jace the jock. You're supposed to be my girl.

"God, you must think I'm so clingy. It's only been a day and I-"

"Did I call you clingy?"

"No, but-"

"No," I say adamantly. The 'clinginess,' makes me feel better. If only a little.

She gives me a small smile before a sigh blows it away.

"You can go back to being mad at me now."

"Who said I stopped? I'm pissed at you." I kiss her again.