“Please don’t.”

“I can’t stop it, Ava.” His eyes flick to the doorway, where Knox and Tawny still are. I can see them in my peripheral. “And everything Knox has done and said was right, and I’ve been wrong. I am sorry. You’re right about me. I messed up. I should have made you stop drinking, been more protective, or made sure I left with you—”

“But you didn’t. Ha.”

What has Knox done and said?

His eyes close briefly. “I’ve never been in that situation. I never cared about a girl like you. I didn’t dream someone I knew, a friend of mine, would hurt you—”

“Save your apology!”

“I know! I hate it, okay? I hate it! I can’t change how I reacted!” His voice rises, but there’s no one here to hear us. The room is empty except for that maddening couple at the doorway. I refuse to look at them, but I can feel them there like a dark shadow.

“I always thought I was a strong person, but I’m not,” he adds as he scrubs his face. “Ava, please.” His chest rises, expands. “I’ve…missed you. I’ve imagined you in the hallway a hundred times. I didn’t play one football game without looking at the sidelines and wishing you were there. I’ve played back that night in my head over and over, but I was drunk too, and I wasn’t thinking right. You ran off to dance, and all I saw was you at your first Shark kegger, leaving me for someone better. I didn’t do the right thing. I reacted like a sniveling, jealous asshole. I let you down and you got hurt.”

Ugly emotion tightens my throat and I kick it down.

He closes his eyes. “Tell me how to make it better.”

I scowl at him, really looking at him. The way his sandy hair is full and thick, how my fingers felt brushing through the wet strands after a game. His strong shoulders when he hugged me so tight. All the little notes he’d leave for me in my locker. You’re beautiful was the first one. I’ll be yours, if you ask was the second. And then, I dream of you more often than I should. Oh, I recall them and that last one got to me. So good. To imagine he wanted me… I imagined us at prom, at college together, me walking down an aisle toward him. Who was that girl? I got foolish. I forgot life isn’t kittens and rainbows.

“I know it’s too late to change anything—”

“Stop. Just stop talking. Don’t come near me and I swear to do the same.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I do!”

He flinches, looking like he might say something else, but he dunks his head and brushes past me.

My chest heaves. Big breath in. Long sigh out.

I hear the warning bell and other kids rush in from the hall to take the seats around me. I dash to the door and Knox and Tawny are still there. WTF. Go already!

She has him pressed against the wall, her manicured, red-tipped hands dancing over his chest as she daintily frowns at the bruise on his face.

His eyes cling to me. Knowledge gleams there, of my conversation with Chance. First-row seats to that little show—was it on purpose? Maybe. It feels like Knox always has a reason for everything.

I’m about to pass them when I stop and turn back around. I ignore Tawny and glare at him. “Tomorrow night. Vanderbilt library. I’ll meet you on the steps at seven and we can watch the movie together in one of the study rooms. I have an ID because I used to go last year when I was doing homeschool stuff.”

“Alright,” he says softly, his eyes studying my face, as if looking to see if I’m okay. He moves Tawny away from him, literally pushes her shoulders until she’s fuming prettily. She sends me a little glare and whispers in his ear. I definitely hear bleachers in her rush of words. He shakes his head at her.

I smirk.

She saunters off and I watch her, but when I turn back, he’s got those gray eyes on me.

“Should we eat first?” he asks.

“Please. This is not a date.”

“Agreed, but my stomach will growl. It might disturb the other people studying. Plus, I’ll be fresh from practice, and I get queasy if I don’t get protein.”

He is…ugh.

My hand goes to my hip. “First I have to drag it out of you to hear what happened to your eye, and then you want to watch this stupid movie together. Now you insist on eating.”

“It’s just food. Why can’t we eat? If you came to my house, Suzy would make us dinner.”

Nope. Not going to a Shark’s house.

“Meet me at Lou’s Diner and we’ll drive over from there. The restaurant is on Elm Street in Nashville. Happy?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Just two students watching an iconic romantic movie for a class. It’s a plan, Tulip.”

“See you, Cold and Evil.” I walk out the door.

Why did I do that? is racing through my head as I leave.

I blame it on Chance and his half-assed apology.

Maybe that memory of how Knox looked at me.

Whatever.

I push it aside and pick up my steps as I jog down the hall. Crap. I’m going to be late for English. Mr. Banks is old, though, and it takes him a few minutes to get his roll out. I can sneak in and sit in the back. I dash down the mostly empty corridor to my locker, my steps picking up when I see Brandon Wilkes, one of the football players. All crazy red hair and jacked muscles, he slows as he passes me and sends me a leer. He flips around, sliding black eyes over me as he walks backward. “Get the message, snitch. We don’t want you here.”

“Asshole,” I mutter and keep marching.

It’s not until I reach my locker that it makes sense. Scribbled in black marker on my silver locker are the words LEAVE SLUT.

My mouth dries. Nausea boils in my stomach. That word. That fucking word.

Someone is behind me, and she laughs.

No matter how many times I walk through the doors of Camden, they’ll never forget who I am and what happened to me—

Shake it off. No self-pity allowed. Zero.

With fumbling fingers, I open the lock, take out my book, and slam it shut.

When I turn, Jolena is there, eyes sparkling. She holds her hands up. “Don’t blow up at me. I didn’t do it, but boy do I like it.”

The final bell rings. We’re late to class.

She doesn’t move, smiling still.

I tilt my head toward my locker. “You think that bothers me?” It KILLS ME. Loneliness sucks at me and I clench my fists. “What a joke. At least it’s not, oh, I don’t know—a violation of my body. Yeah, that is so much worse. Plus, the missing comma is deplorable. Whoever wrote it is an idiot.”

“Stay away from the football players, Ava,” she calls to my back as I walk away. “And I don’t just mean Liam. Knox too. He belongs to us. Don’t forget it.”

How can I forget?

On trembling legs, I walk to the office and find Mrs. Carmichael. In a toneless voice I stare at her flowered blouse and tell her what’s on my locker, and she murmurs words I barely hear. “Oh, no, terrible…kids these day…so sorry for you. I’ll get maintenance on it, I’m sure we have something to remove it…” Blah, blah, blah.

She hands me a note to class and I accept it then run to the bathroom, finding the last stall and sitting on the toilet, my legs tucked up so no one can see me. My stomach rolls, thick and heavy, and I shove it down.