At three a.m. I started to get worried. I called a couple more times, but still no answer.

At four a.m. I heard the front door open. I couldn't help but smile.

He truly has me.

I jumped out of bed and opened my door. He was stumbling down the hallway, clearly drunk.

"Hey, babe," I whispered, not wanting to wake Ethan. I chuckled to myself as he tried to take his sweater off, but his cap was in the way. I held onto his arm, trying to steady him. He continued to struggle with the sweater that was covering his head.

He pushed my hand away. "Get off!" he sneered, "I don't need your fucking help."

"Whoa," I took a step back, surprised. "Mean drunk much?"

"I'm not drunk, Amanda. I just don't need you in my space all the fucking time." He finally managed to take his sweater off, throwing his cap behind him and adjusting his shirt.

I just stood there, not knowing what to say.

He brushed past me and into his room. My legs followed of their own accord. "What's going on?" I asked cautiously from the doorway. "I tried calling you."

"Jesus Christ!" He threw his hands in the air. "Clingy much? You're not my fucking girlfriend," he spat out, slumping onto the bed. "You shouldn't be blowing up my phone when I'm out. It's fucking embarrassing."

I swallowed down the knot in my throat, my eyes stung from holding back tears. I squared my shoulders and tried to act stronger than I felt. "Did something happen?" I said quietly. Something must have happened for this switch in him.

"Yeah, Amanda." He said my name like it was a curse. "You happened. I don't need your shit. Not now. Not ever."

He looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact. He started to unlace his shoes. "Look at me." I ground out.

He laughed. His shoulders bounced with the movement. Then he lifted his head; there was fire in his eyes, but not the good kind. "You don't tell me what to do," he stated, standing and taking a step closer to me. "You don't control me. And I shouldn't fucking control you. What you do is on you. I don't control a fucking thing you do."

I frantically wiped the tears that were falling. "What the hell's gotten into you? Why are you being an asshole?!"

"I'm not being anything!" his tone got harsher with every word. "I'm not being an asshole," he repeated, a little softer this time. "I just am one. You should have known that when I didn't call you after that night."

My stomach dropped to the floor, and for a few moments, I forgot to breathe.

I stared at him wide-eyed. My head shook back and forth. I bit my lip to stop myself from breaking down. He couldn't see me like this. He couldn't win. Not again. Then shock and disappointment quickly turned to anger. "Why the fuck didn't you call me, huh?"

I stepped forward.

He stepped back.

"I'm not fucking doing this, Amanda." He was yelling. I knew for sure it was going to wake Ethan.

I continued shaking my head, angry with myself for letting him get to me again. I knew why he didn't call, but I wanted him to admit it. I wanted the words to come out of his mouth. "Was it a pity thing?"

I saw him flinch.

Asshole.

"I'm right, huh?" I tried to talk through my tears and my voice broke. "You thought it would be fun to fuck around with some loser girl, so you could tell all your friends that you went slumming?"

"What?" He took a step back, confusion on his face. But I didn't care. He needed to own up to it.

"It's true, isn't it?"

He didn't say a word. Just stood there. Hands in his pockets.

"Fuck you, Logan," I seethed.

I turned and walked away, but his words stopped me. "Too late," he announced. "Some other girl beat you to it."

TWENTY FOUR

Logan

My eyelids were heavy. My body ached. My head was pounding. The room was spinning. My mouth was dry. My fingers itched. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear her voice.

Amanda.

Fuck.

I'd love to say that I don't remember what went down last night, but I did. I remembered being an asshole to her. I remember doing it all on purpose, so she would leave me alone and not want to be with me, because there was no fucking way I deserved her. Not even a little.

I remembered hearing her cry in her room. She must have cried for so long, because by the time I'd passed out, she was still going.

She thought I pitied her. The second the words were out of her mouth I flinched. Not because she was right, but because I couldn't believe that she'd ever think that about herself. How the fuck could she think that I was better than her. I let it go. Maybe she needed to believe that. Maybe it would make it easier for her to accept that I didn't want her. But I did, I wanted her so fucking bad. But that was my problem to overcome. Not hers.

I'd love nothing more than to lay in bed all day but I promised Jake I'd meet him at the field. Fucking baseball.

I slowly got up and walked to the kitchen, needing something in my stomach to make this whatever-the-fuck-feeling go away. I stopped in my tracks when I heard their voices.

"Were you arguing with Logan last night?" Ethan said.

"Nope," she said quickly.

"Huh. I swear I thought I heard you and-"

"Nope," she repeated, interrupting him. "Not me. He had some other girl in there."

Why would she tell him that?