I WAS PRETTY FEARFUL after the Derrick escapade that I would be unable to handle being around Noah, even with Jasper's insistence to stay glued to my side this time around. Mostly out of apprehension that he would ultimately pull the same card that Derrick did and crush any hope of future friendship.

So far, that has not been the case. I'm beginning to wonder if it ever will be. But I'm trying not to get my hopes up.

"This place is awesome," Noah says as we enter the gates to the carnival, buzzing with activity as per usual. "And this just stays here all summer every summer?"

"Yep," Jasper responds, leading us—well, more like Champ leading us, tail wagging—toward our favorite section of the grounds, where all the best food stands are. "And it's open in late spring and the first half of fall, too."

"Hm," Noah hums thoughtfully, "but I thought carnivals usually travel around the country?"

"Not this one," Jasper says with a shrug. "It's found its home here and it works because all the tourists at the beach are always coming through. Besides, 'fair' is a boring word that doesn't elicit as much excitement as 'carnival' does."

"Fair enough," Noah says, and I share a smile with him, catching his dig.

"So, how are your friends at home dealing with your leaving?" I ask Noah.

He keeps his head down and kicks a pebble with him as he walks. "There are really only three of them I'll miss," he says. "The guys I'm in that band with. It sucks; they're already recruiting for a new guy on keyboard."

"Maybe you could start a new band here," I suggest, trying to be helpful.

"Maybe," he agrees, though the way he says it makes it clear that this will never happen. I feel like an idiot for suggesting it. Who starts a band at their new school their senior year?

"Lexi can be lead singer," Jasper jokes.

"You can sing?" Noah asks, looking up at me now.

"No!" I exclaim, way too forcefully. Great, now I'm blushing. He really is going to think I'm an idiot by the end of today. "I mean, not really. I just hate public-anything, so standing in front of a crowd singing would be a nightmare for me. But I'm not even good at singing, so I would never do that, anyway." I close my mouth before I can blabber anymore.

"I dunno," Jasper counters. "I've heard her sing along to the radio in the car before, I think she's pretty good."

So not cool, Jasper, I want to tell him.

Instead, desperate to seem nonchalant, I just shrug and say, "It's a shame Jasper is leaving so soon. He really loves to belt along to the High School Musical soundtrack. I think he'd bring the start of something new to the table for your band." I send a pointed look at him, and the tiny look of embarrassment on his face makes my insides burst with self-satisfied glee. It's not often I manage to torment Jasper instead of the other way around.

Noah laughs, brown eyes crinkling. "You guys are the kind of best friends that live to embarrass each other, huh?"

Jasper wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Wouldn't wanna have it any other way. Though I'd like to point out that usually it's me embarrassing Lex. If you end up staying friends with her after I'm gone, I might have to pass that torch down to you and make you Lex's new designated embarrasser."

"Noah is too nice to do that," I say smugly. "I'll be in the clear."

Noah watches me for a moment. "No," he counters slowly, "I might be interested in getting in on this. I don't think it would be fair to let Lexi off the hook completely."

I pretend to look offended, but if I'm being honest, I'm just happy that Noah is basically vowing to be my friend the upcoming school year. Will he follow through on that once school has started back up and he's met the cooler people in our grade—probably not. But his intentions appear to be pure.

And, well, pure is good.

"We have to ride the Ferris wheel," Noah says as the spinning contraption comes closer into view. "It's a carnival must."

Jasper eyes me, and I pinch the skin on my forefinger. "I don't do Ferris wheels, or heights. But you two should go. They only seat two people at a time anyway. I'll wait down here."

Noah shoots me a questioning look. "New York City native doesn't do heights? Seems a little contradictive."

"Yeah, well," I say awkwardly. "That's me."

"The best time to do the Ferris wheel is at night when the grounds are all lit up," Jasper explains. "Let's do that one last."

"Sure," Noah says, still eying me.

I blush and look at my sneakers, wishing I wasn't such a blatant social reject.

"So why didn't Izzy come with us?" Jasper asks Noah.

He narrowly dodges a young girl toddling around, chocolate ice cream smeared all over her face and hands. "Didn't want to," he mumbles. "It's hard having any kind of relationship with an eleven-year-old girl that wants nothing to do with you."

"I'm sorry," I say, oddly feeling a pang of sympathy for Izzy. It's not easy when your family situation is ripped apart. I never experienced divorce since my parents were never actually married in the first place, but I know the confusion that comes with parents who don't want to be together. At least, on the dad's end of things.

Noah shrugs. "It is what it is. The age difference makes it hard. Our parents keep treating us like we're fully brother and sister now, which is weird, so I get it. Plus, she really didn't take our parents' marriage well, or the move, for that matter."

"Yeah, I could tell last time you guys came into town," I admit. "I get it though. Moving to a new place isn't easy." My eyes instinctively trail over to Jasper. He kicks a rock, his mouth set in a firm line. I rush to add, "Especially when you're that young. I was right around her age when I moved."

"Who's hungry?" Jasper suddenly asks, clearly desperate for a subject change. "I'm feeling corndogs with a side of cheese fries."

"Wow, I forgot how good carnival food is," Noah says. "That combination sounds heavenly."

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Five corndogs and two baskets of cheese fries later (boys), we're all perched around a picnic table, basking in the late afternoon sun. If Jasper was bitter toward Noah before, he's not now. The two of them have been going nonstop, ping-ponging questions at each other back and forth for the last hour.

"So, what types of movies do you hope to film someday?"

"What type of music did your band play?"

"Are you gonna continue playing soccer when you move to Australia?"

"Are you gonna keep playing—what sport was it again? Lacrosse? —at Abilene High?"

Basically, I have become the third wheel of their newfound brofest. I'm not opposed to them getting along, just bored at this point.

Champ lies by our feet, panting contentedly, and I reach down to scratch her ears.

"So, what's the deal with the service dog, if you don't mind me asking?" Noah asks. I look up and realize he's watching me pet Champ, so I straighten myself out, heat rushing to my cheeks.

"Oh," Jasper says with a chuckle. "Right. I probably should've explained that sooner. People always assume I'm either blind or mentally ill when they see her. I just have diabetes, and she can, like, tell me when my blood sugar gets too low or whatever. No big deal."

"Dude, that's so cool," Noah says, looking genuinely interested. "Dogs are amazing."

"Yeah, she's pretty great," Jasper agrees, giving Champ an encouraging pat. "Hopefully the Australians at my new school will think that it's cool and not freakishly weird."

"In what world is getting to take a cute dog with you everywhere you go considered freakishly weird?" Noah shoots back. "I'm more jealous of you than anything. Aside from the diabetes part of it. That must be kind of hard."

"Yeah," Jasper mumbles. "It is what it is."

"Well, Lexi," Noah says, finally focusing his attention on me. I look up, alarmed by the sudden shift. "It's your turn. What's your situation?"

"My situation?" I parrot questioningly.

"Yeah. You know, the important things I should know about you since we're gonna be friends. Like how Jasper wants to be a filmmaker and has a service dog for his diabetes and plays soccer. I remember that you like books and doing crafts and things with your little cousin, but what else?"

What else?

"There's not really much else to tell," I joke nervously. "I'm pretty boring."

Noah studies me. "Somehow I don't believe you."

"Good. You shouldn't," Jasper cuts in. "Lexi is one of the nicest, coolest, funniest people I know. She tends to be stupid hard on herself, but she has this depth to her that's worth knowing. Don't let her tell you otherwise."

"Jasper," I mutter, suddenly feeling spotlighted. "Relax."

Noah shakes his head. "It's okay, Lexi. I think it's great that you're a bit more low key. I think I'd get overwhelmed if you were some intense party girl or something. I kind of did the whole douchebag guy thing at my old school, because believe it or not, girls tend to think that guys in bands are hot. Weird, right?"

Unable to help myself, I laugh.

"But anyway," he continues, "I don't want to be that guy anymore. It gave me this inflated ego that I definitely should not have had. And I kind of just want to get through my senior year here with just a couple really good friends. Besides, parties are exhausting, and do not mix well with my anxiety."

I pause, latching onto this new idea. "You have anxiety?" I find myself asking. And you can talk about it so casually?

He shrugs, and I might be imagining it, but I swear his cheeks get a little pinker. "Yeah. Dealt with it ever since my mom left."

"Me too," I say. "I mean, I have anxiety, too. Not sure when it started, because it's been a thing for a long time. But I was diagnosed when I was eleven."

He stares at me for a long moment, and I find myself wishing I could eat my words. In what realm do I willingly bring up my anxiety to anyone?

"So we're all a little screwed up," Jasper finally says, ending the silence. "I'm gonna go pee real quick, and then we should take Noah on the pirate ship ride. It's one of the few ones Lex will actually agree to do."

"Sounds good," I say, composing myself.

Jasper shoots me a lingering look, like he isn't sure he wants to leave me alone with Noah, and I finally understand why. He's terrified of being responsible for leaving me with another Derrick-like fiasco. But somehow, I trust Noah. Genuinely.

I give him an encouraging smile, and, after one last questioning eyebrow raise, he reluctantly retreats toward the bathroom, Champ in tow.

"Thanks for telling me about your anxiety," Noah says once Jasper's out of earshot. "I know how hard it can be to talk about. But know that I relate, and I'm here, if you ever want to talk about it."

"Thanks," I say, digging my toe in the grass. "You too."

"And, Lexi," he adds, "I want you to know that I'm not trying to replace Jasper. I get that he's your best friend, and I think that's really great."

I chew on my cheek. "I appreciate that. And I understand if you find other friends here when you start meeting the rest of our class. Don't feel obligated to stick by me if you don't want to."

He rests a hand over my own, and I stare down at the contact, somewhat surprised by this bold gesture. "I think Jasper's right," he tells me softly. "You are so much greater than you give yourself credit for. You don't have anything to worry about."

Oh how I wish that was true.

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The guys have been gone to ride the Ferris wheel for nearly twenty minutes now, and I sit cross-legged on a bench, secretly thankful for the opportunity to catch my breath. Jasper alone is usually enough for me; adding Noah into the mix has proved to be mentally exhausting. Not because of anything he's doing—he's actually been really great all evening. I just feel this skewed necessity to be perfect around him, so as not to push him away.

My eyes scan the grounds, watching all the couples and families and herds of middle schoolers trying their hand at flirting with each other. There's something therapeutic in putting your own life on hold to focus on other people's. There's no stake in other people's lives. Just little flickers of their life story, portions of the puzzle so tiny and unimportant that they'll likely forget about it by next week.

There's something beautiful in the insignificant. We like to measure our lives by the big and grandiose—getting your driver's license, graduating high school, receiving a college degree, getting married, having kids, and so on. But the bulk of our lives consist of the in betweens. Another night roaming the carnival doesn't seem important in the grand scheme of things. And yet here we all are, filling just as much of our allotted time doing this as we would be doing any of the "important" things.

There has to be a significance to that.

I find myself wondering what Jasper and Noah are talking about, spending so much time together out of my earshot. I don't want to believe that they're talking about me. But I know Jasper, and his intentional efforts to set me up for as good of a school year as he can in his last days here.

I just hope he doesn't tell Noah anything that could potentially scare him off.

A dark shadow reels me out of my thoughts, and I squint against the lamplight illuminating the dark. An unfamiliar boy towers above me, a lazy smirk on his face.

Goosebumps immediately prick up over my whole body, and I fail to find words, my mind flashing furiously back to a few nights ago with Derrick.

This cannot be happening to me again.

"Hiya, cutie," the stranger says. "What are you doing over here by yourself?"

I swallow hard, forcing myself to muster the strength to combat this one solo. Creepy guys trying to flirt with girls at the carnival are nothing new. Usually I'm in the clear, since I'm typically here with Jasper and they just assume we're dating and don't bother approaching me. "Waiting for my friends," I say blandly. "I'm okay, thanks for checking. Have a nice night."

Instead of receiving my very obvious hint, he takes a seat alarmingly close beside me, much to my dismay. I glance frantically around, hoping someone notices my discomfort, but everyone is so absorbed in their own little storyline, they neglect to pay any attention to mine.

"I better sit and keep you company, then," he says, putting a hand on my thigh. I look down at his hand, then up at his face. His hair is disheveled and dark, so dark that I wonder if he dyed it black. His skin is pale, a stark contrast to his dark hair, and his ears are full of silver piercings.

My stomach crawls at his contact.

"I don't need a babysitter," I say, wondering if my voice sounds as shaky as it feels. "But thanks." I uncross my legs, yanking away from his touch, and scoot as far towards the end of the bench as I can get.

To my horror, he scoots down with me, close enough that I can smell cigarette smoke on him.

I try to remain calm, weighing my options. I could hightail it out of here and find a bathroom or something to hide out in, but what if he follows me and waits for me outside the entrance? There's a little alley by the women's bathroom that's not very lit up; it would be very easy for him to drag me back there and then do God-knows-what. I could run away, but that would draw anxiety-inducing attention, and what if he chases after me? I'm not a very fast runner.

"Are you from around here?" he asks, draping an arm over my shoulders. "You're a babe."

"Please leave me alone," I mutter. "I'm not interested. Go flirt with someone else."

His hand squeezes my shoulder so hard that it hurts, and I twist in pain. "Come on, babe. You and I both know your 'friends' aren't coming back. Come with me."

"No," I say, jerking myself out of his grip and springing up from my previously tranquil bench, until he had to ruin it. "Just leave me alone."

He makes a grab for my wrists and I swat him away, but somehow, he still takes hold of my right wrist and death grips it in his hand. "You're not going anywhere," he says, a newfound darkness encasing his words like a storm cloud settling over a previously harmless sunny day. "You're mine for the evening."

Oh, God. No, no, no. Bile billows up in my stomach, swishing around past and present heinous memories, and before I know it, I'm doubled over, puking on my harasser's shoes.

You're mine for the evening. That's exactly what one of my dad's friends used to say to me before . . . before . . .

"What the hell?!" the creepy boy yells. "You stupid slut!" If I didn't want attention before, I sure have it now. Several passersby crane their necks to get a good look at the spectacle. And yet none of them comes over to see what's wrong. I want to crawl under a rock and die.

To my relief—and horror—Jasper and Noah suddenly come rushing to my side. Noah tugs me away from the creepy boy and pulls me protectively toward him, meanwhile Jasper pushes past both of us, getting up in the creepy guy's face. "Get the hell out of here," Jasper demands, roughly shoving him. "Touch her again and I'll call the cops. Scumbag."

"No need to get so defensive, there, buddy," the guy says. "She was asking for it, sitting all alone. But screw this, I'm out. Keep your little slut."

Noah lets go of me and steps forward. Before anyone can react, he swings and knocks the creep right in his face. "Watch your mouth, asshole."

The creepy guy swings back, and suddenly two guys are going at it in front of a nacho stand, and I'm the reason why they're fighting. Sensing my revulsion, Jasper steps forward and pulls Noah off of my harasser. "He's not worth it, dude," Jasper tells him. Then, focusing his attention on the creepy guy, he says, "Just get the hell out of here. We're done with you, dick."

The guy yells a colorful string of curse words at us before hauling himself up and hightailing it out of there, blood gushing out from his nose. I glance around, and everyone is staring, still processing the spectacle that just unfolded. Exactly what I was hoping to avoid. Overcome by all that just happened in the span of several seconds, my eyes brim with tears, and I don't realize I'm shaking until Jasper coaxes me back down on the bench that started it all.

"I'm sorry," he says, hugging onto me tightly. "Just block everything else out. It's okay. You're safe now."

I want to speak, to explain what happened before they came, to crack a joke and lighten the mood—anything. But I can't. All that's left is a shell, shaking and rocking in Jasper's arms.

Noah collapses beside me, and I notice the bruise that's quickly forming around his eye.

"Thanks for that," I mumble weakly.

He gives me a small smile and rests a hand on my back, gently rubbing it. "I'm not supposed to get in fights anymore. I just couldn't let that asshole get away with talking to you like that."

Even Champ licks my leg, her doggy way of saying I'm on your side, too.

"Let's get you home," Jasper says. "Tonight has been . . . a lot."

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling miserable and helpless.

"Please shush. None of that was remotely your fault," Jasper says. "I'm sorry the male race has a track record of being scumbags to you."

If only he knew that half of it.

"Hey, Lex," Noah says in a lighter tone as Jasper lends me a hand, pulling me up. "For the record, I only punch people in the face when I'm defending my friends. So if you're still having any doubts about me, rest assured. You're in."

Despite myself, despite everything, I laugh.

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By the time we've parted ways with Noah for the night and pulled up in Jasper's driveway, I'm exhausted.

I turn to open the passenger door, but Jasper leans over and captures my hand, stopping me. Unable to control my movement, I stare at the contact, chills coursing through my body as I remember the creepy guy from earlier putting his hands on me. Jasper seems to realize this, and promptly lets go.

"Lexi, what can I do to make this better?"

"Jasper," I say, feeling deflated. "You already stepped in and stopped it. It's fine."

He shakes his head. "I don't think you understand," he says, and my eyebrows crease in confusion. "You don't realize how much it kills me knowing that there will always be gross boys out there trying to take advantage of you. I just—I feel like I'm your protector at this point, you know? Your dad is nonexistent; your uncle is never really home. I feel like I'm the one who can keep you safe. And then things like tonight happen, and I feel like I'm letting you down. And what am I supposed to do when I'm on the other side of the globe and have nothing to offer you anymore?"

"Jasper," I whisper, completely awestruck. I never thought about it like that. He puts so much pressure on himself not only to be my best friend, but the proper protector that I never had. "You've done a phenomenal job at being there for me. You haven't let me down. Don't even think that."

"Can I hug you?" he asks timidly, and my heart swells.

"Of course you can," I say, and he unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches over the center console, wrapping me up in his arms.

I'm transported back to Christmas break freshman year, the first time of many to follow that Jasper ever hugged me. It was Christmas Eve, and we were sitting in my room, watching Christmas movies and sipping hot chocolate together. We had just gotten through the second Home Alone, and he turned to me.

"You know, this past semester, we've actually somehow gotten really close. I'd probably even consider you like my best friend by this point."

"Really?" I blurted, blushing. "I mean, you're probably my best friend. I just didn't see myself as being yours. You have lots of friends."

"Lexi," he said, his tone patient. "You're my favorite person to spend time with. You don't drone on and on about all the he-said she-said drama like everyone else does. You just exist in your own little way, and I like that."

"Thanks . . . I think."

He laughed. "It was meant to be a compliment. Listen, now that we've established that we mutually see the other person as our best friend . . . can I hug you?"

I chewed my lip, suddenly feeling timid after spending the last hour cracking jokes with what I now recognized to be my best friend. "Sure."

His hug engulfed me, and I let my eyes flutter shut. For the first time in my life, I felt completely safe wrapped up in the arms of a boy.

Author's Note: i'm home for the summer, and a lot of inspiration has been striking up. hoping i can bang out some more updates soon. hope you're all doing well.