“The nurse gave me Aleve and Band-Aids. I’m ready for battle, Cold and Evil.”

“Not an answer,” he says softly.

Dane watches us, a wary look on his face.

Knox glances over at him. “He’s been here for a few hours. I was in Trask’s office and didn’t know what happened until Dane texted me.”

A long sigh leaves me. “Did you get in trouble for fighting?”

His lips tighten, a dark expression on his face. “No. He’s going to let Coach take care of it. I’ll be running sprints tonight after practice. Brandon won’t be calling you names anymore.”

I frown. “I don’t want you fighting my battles. Don’t do it again.”

He sighs. “Can’t seem to stop, Tulip. Now, who do I need to take down for this?”

His voice is cool and calm, but I hear the steel underneath.

“I didn’t see his face. He hit me, not with his fist, I think. It was too solid and big, maybe a textbook, then he put his foot on my back, called me a few names.” I swallow down the fear. That voice. It was the guy from the woods.

“Motherfucker.”

“Yep.” I push to stand and take a big breath. “What period is it?”

“Lunch. Where are you going?” he says as I walk around the room, spying my backpack that someone must have dropped off. Grabbing my blazer that’s lying on top, I slip it on, wincing but glad it hides the holes in my shirt. I lean down and swing my backpack up and over my shoulder. My fingers linger over my locket for a moment and my spine straightens.

“Ava?” Knox has moved and is standing next to me. “Maybe you should head to the dorms and rest. If you want me to drive you, I’m sure Maxine will—”

No.

He doesn’t want to kiss me.

We can’t do this, he said.

“I’m fine.” I brush past him, walk over to Dane, and stare up at him. A faint smile tugs at my lips. “Next time, I’ll hit you harder, asshole.”

He smirks. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I need to teach you how to hit, sweetheart.”

“Meh, I was holding back,” I say. My efforts to fight him were half-hearted. Even as upset as I was, I recognized that it wasn’t Dane’s voice who said those words to me.

He scrubs his face and gives me a little grimace as if to remind me—Remember what you saw on my nose? Can you just forget that?

I send him a shrug. Maybe.

He rolls his eyes.

I think back to those words he said while carrying me: Things will be okay, I promise, I promise, I promise.

Yeah, someday it fucking will be okay. Not today, but soon. The guy from the woods lashed out at me, which means he’s getting careless, and if he’s getting careless, he’s scared…

“Don’t tell me you’re actually going back to class?” Knox says as he crosses his arms.

“Why wouldn’t I? Just another day here.”

He exhales. “Ava, come on, let me take you home.”

Home? I don’t really have one.

Ava? I want him to call me Tulip, dammit.

“I agree,” Dane adds. “You’re pale.”

Huffing out a laugh, I throw him an Are you serious? glance. Has he looked in the mirror lately?

Dane laughs and shakes his head as if he reads my mind.

“Ava, I don’t think you should go to class. You need to rest.” Knox again. His jaw pops and he reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb brushing over the top of my hand.

And there it is, just a tiny touch from him and electric tingles dance up my arms and over my body. I look down at our hands.

He’s worried.

He keeps fighting my battles when he clearly has his own.

His gray eyes cling to mine. “Please.”

My body clenches at the mere sound of his voice. I want him so much, yet it’s so much more than simple lust or desire; it’s deeper and stronger and crazy and how have I let him scale my fortress?

He wants me, and he fights it.

I don’t want to think about the whys of it.

I lick my dry lips, and it takes everything inside me to pull my hand out of his grasp.

This is my journey, not his.

I walk out of the nurse’s station and head to lunch.

16

Love dies.

Then you’re at the end of my kaleidoscope,

Broken, bright shiny pieces.

Obviously, you can’t love me.

And neither should I.

The text from SA comes in on Wednesday night as I sit on my bed, my laptop and textbooks scattered across my quilt. Earlier, I had a quick dinner with Tyler at the group home, and now I’m at the dorm and bored, my homework looming.

Ava? You there?

I stare down at my phone. It’s been several days since I heard from him, and I can’t stop the curl of excitement in my chest.

Another poem? Wow, you’re really into this class. Same author? I ask.

Yep.

Funny. I googled that last one you sent, and it never came up anywhere. The internet is a pretty amazing tool. Wanna tell me who wrote it?

He doesn’t respond for several moments, so I open a bag of Doritos and chomp down on a few. I’m grinning around my munches, imagining SA squirming. I can’t help but think about Knox, holding his phone somewhere, typing. Maybe he’s at home. Maybe he’s in his car and had to pull over because he can’t stop thinking about me.

I scrunch up my face. I wish.

I was too embarrassed to admit I wrote them.

Oh, it’s getting good now.

Yeah, the jock who writes poetry. For me, I assume? I send.

YOU.

They’re pretty nice.

I scroll up, read the poem again and type, So you’ve never been in love? You said it dies.

My parents didn’t even want to be in the same room as each other. He loved her one day and she loved him, then they both changed.

SA is a bit of a pessimist.

Another text comes in. I care for my brother. He’s all I care about. Who have you been in love with?

I sit up straighter in bed. Knox cares for his brother.

Ava, tell me—who have you loved?

Gah, we’re getting personal, and part of me can’t resist it. It’s a place to pretend we might just have something special, and I want to trust SA; I do. His poetry is revealing…

I loved a boy once. He moved to Texas for college.

Do you still see him? Email him? Text him?

SA is poking a little hard.

Another text comes in. Never mind. I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to think about you with him. Then, What was his name?

I laugh out loud.

Luka.

Luka with his shaggy brown hair and cigarette burns on his arms. We started off as friends, but nights were lonely at the group home and soon we were sneaking into each other’s room, talking about our hopes and dreams. I loved his crooked smile and shy glances. I don’t know that our emotions were the kind of love that’s forever, but he was my friend, and I trusted him. We fumbled through sex, and while it was never the way I’ve read about in books, it was enough.

My eyes widen at the next text.

I only want you.

My fingers clutch the phone as I type out a response.