Sophomore Year

"Jeremy Sanders is pretty cute," Taylor said. "Too bad he's a huge gossip. Ugh. He'd probably post about our first night together. Ooh, thoughts on Griffin Keely?" After a second, she shuddered, shaking her head. "Never mind. Gives me disturbed fuckboy vibes. Which is nice and all in a movie, but in real life? They ruin you."

Luce giggled.

I played with my soda can tab. A year ago, I would've laughed or even agreed with Taylor. After the country club and several hangouts, Griffin and I had become good friends somewhere along the way. There was a lot more to him than his notorious reputation, and in some weird way, we worked. If someone had told me that Griffin Keely would ever become a part of my life, I wouldn't have believed them.

"Natasha?" Luce nudged her. "What do you think? Would you go for someone like Griffin?"

"I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Her voice was soft.

I looked at her, surprised. She had never mentioned that the whole time we had worked at the country club together. I guess I hadn't read the signs.

"Oh my god, you have a crush on him!" Taylor said. She stretched out in her pink bikini, looking satisfied with the recent discovery.

"He reminds me of someone," she said, her cat-like eyes focused on the distance. She didn't have to say it; I could see it written on her face.

Natasha's secret had been in front of me the whole time, and I had been too stupid to realize it — she liked Griffin.

She liked Griffin.

The words repeated in my head, and I didn't know why I felt a stab of disappointment. It wasn't like it had anything to do with me, and it wasn't bad that she wanted Griffin. He was a good guy — better than a good guy.

So why did I feel like my heart was crumbling?

"We'd have to do some intense matchmaking. Griffin normally wouldn't go for someone like you," Taylor said.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

Natasha's face flushed pink. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Nat. It's just a joke." The thing was, it was never a joke with Taylor. She was sometimes too brazen, especially to people who weren't as close to her. I always thought it was her personality quirk. Sometimes, though, there was a fine line between her honesty and being rude.

When Natasha didn't reply, Taylor pushed on. "Look, do you even want to be his type? He probably likes easy girls."

"Easy," I repeated drily. "Isn't that sort of anti-feminist, Tay?"

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Can anyone take a joke around here?"

Uncomfortable silence hovered in the air.

Taylor pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. "It's not that deep, okay? Nat, tell me more about you and Griffin. If a new ship is sailing, I want to be on board. But I need details."

"Well, he kept showing up at the pool last summer, and he talks to me sometimes because of class," Natasha said. "There's not much more to say."

Taylor now looked interested. "I guess I was wrong. Nat, you dumb-ass. He showed up at the country club for you."

My stomach twisted. Could that be true? Was that the real reason Griffin kept showing up, time after time?

"I don't know," Natasha said, rubbing at a mosquito bite on her knee. "I'm scared I'll put myself out there, and he'll reject me. Then again, it's better to be hurt than to hurt someone else. Right, Luce?"

Luce raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Natasha's lips folded into a dangerously sweet smile. "I just thought you'd agree with me because you're Fairwood's resident sweetheart."

Luce shifted, visibly uncomfortable. "I mean... yeah. I guess."

"Okay, so, what's our plan about Griffin?" Taylor chimed in, rubbing lavender-scented lotion over her arms. "Do we make you guys play seven minutes in heaven?"

"Haven could put in a good word for me, considering she and Griffin are close." Natasha looked at me, a faint ghost of a smile on her lips. It almost looked challenging. "Would you do that for me, Haven?"

I swallowed before nodding. I took a long sip of my coke. It tasted flat, but it was better than the taste in my mouth.

"Why wait until then?" Taylor's eyes glimmered. "Griffin!" She called his name, waving him over. He was talking to someone, but he turned when he heard her voice.

"You are so getting some tonight," Taylor said. "You're welcome."

Natasha blushed. "That sounds so provocative."

"Well, your future boyfriend is a provocative guy."

"Boyfriend?" I said, scraping my already chipped baby blue nail polish. "Griffin doesn't date."

"Maybe he'll change for me. That would be cute," Natasha said.

Adorable.

"Hey," a voice said, greeting us. I looked up to see Griffin approaching. He had black swim shorts that hung slightly low, and his usually messy black hair was even messier. Even though he didn't play any sports, he was pretty toned.

"Hey, Keely," Luce said, smiling.

I finally looked up to see his gaze focused on me for a second too long, and I broke eye contact, my cheeks growing hot.

Taylor stole the cup from Griffin's hand and grinned, raising it to the air. "Sorry. Ladies first." She downed the little left in the cup, and he fake-protested, laughing.

The only person who didn't respond other than me was Natasha. I saw her looking down at the ground but occasionally glancing at Griffin's face.

Taylor's eyebrows raised, as they always did when she had a great idea — which might not be so great for the surrounding people.

"Um, this is a lot of talking for a pool party. Why are we not in the pool? I'm going to go swimming. Luce, Haven, let's go!" Taylor looked at us and then back at Natasha, signaling with her eyes that we should leave them alone.

"Wait, guys — "

Natasha tried to interrupt, but the three of us ditched our phones and cover-ups, running to the pool and giggling before she could say anything else. I wanted to turn back, but I didn't. We dived into the pool, and I popped up from underneath the water, my body chain dangling against my waist.

"Who wants to bet they'll hook up tonight?" Luce squealed.

I only looked up to see Griffin and Natasha talking, standing super close. From here, they almost looked like a couple. Despite the weird feeling in my stomach, I felt a smile on my face. She deserved this. After all the bad parts of high school, she deserved this more than anyone else.

"Do you think they'll go out?" I said.

Taylor shrugged. "If they do, then I'm a good matchmaker. And if they don't... well, it'll still be a little funny."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"She gets so nervous when she talks to guys. I can just imagine her stumbling over her words, trying to flirt with Griffin." She giggled. "She's a social wreck."

"That's not nice, Taylor," I said. "She just has social anxiety."

Taylor looked at me with raised eyebrows. "You know something, Have? You used to be much more fun before bringing her around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Taylor said airily. "Just that you're getting very defensive for her sake lately. I'd be careful before you turn into another her."

Before I could respond, she splashed me, bursting into a fit of giggles. As soon as the wave hit my face, I staggered back. Water flooded my lungs, and I rose from below, pushing my wet hair back. As soon as my head was above water, Taylor was nowhere to be seen.

What had Taylor meant by that?

Cooper swam over, waving.

"I've had to fend off a lot of girls to get to you," he said.

I forced a smile, pushing Taylor out of my mind. "Yeah, you're Mr. Casanova."

He grinned. Even though Cooper was a super cute guy with his curly brown hair and hazel eyes framed with long eyelashes he didn't need, he was shy, and the thought of him playing Casanova made me smile.

"Where's Justin and West?" I asked.

"Not here yet," Cooper said. "Actually, can one of us text them? I'm getting hungry as hell."

"I'll go," I offered. I stepped out of the pool and walked over to my pool chair, pulling my towel over my wet body to soak it up. Before I could send Justin a text, I felt someone near me. I looked up to see Griffin.

"You're getting me wet, Haven," he said, a playful smile dancing on the corner of his lips.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes at his immature comment and stepping away so I wouldn't drip on him anymore. "Where's Natasha?" I asked, noticing she wasn't nearby anymore.

"She started talking to someone inside," he said.

"Did you guys..." I said, trailing off.

He looked at me blankly. "What?"

"Never mind," I said, realizing they hadn't gotten together. I didn't know why the thought of that made me feel better. There was a pause.

"So, your place is nice. Very rich drug dealer-esque," I teased.

He started laughing. "Haven Grey thinks my house looks like a rich drug dealer's house. Entry number one in the diaries of a handsome, cocky, messed up delinquent."

"Why messed up?"

"Aren't we all messed up?" he shrugged. "Some a little more than others. You should probably get away before it's contagious." There was humor in his smile.

"I'll take my chances," I said lightly. "So, what's with all the fancy wine?" I pointed at the several bottles that were decorated on the outside bar.

"You thought you were the only fancy one, princess?" he joked, then quickly added, "I promise I'm not an alcoholic. But to explain, I have to show you something." He gave me a goofy half-smile. "But it's in my room. You need to promise not to think I'm going all douche mode on you."

"Oh, come on," I groaned. "That's like code for sleep with me."

He laughed, shaking his head at me. "I promise it's a very wholesome reason. Remember lingerie days? I know to keep my distance." I thought back to the risky picture sext and almost laughed.

"Okay," I agreed, grabbing my towel and draping it over me before following him inside. When we walked upstairs, he pointed to the room on the left. I walked in and looked around. Blue comforter, white pillows, fresh sheets. Posters from his favorite artists on the wall and two sports jerseys hung up. Then, a singular family photo from when he was a little younger.

"Where was this?" I asked, looking at his beaming smile, his parents standing behind him. He had his dad's height but his mom's dark hair and light eyes. They were both beautiful.

"My dad works at that vineyard," he said. He looked proud, and I could tell he loved his dad. "There's a huge sunflower field by it, and it's the prettiest place ever."

I couldn't help but giggle.

"What?" he said, feigning offense. "I'm sharing deep childhood stuff, and you're laughing at me. That's messed up, Haven Grey."

"Just never thought I'd see Griffin Keely excited about sunflowers."

"Oh, come on," he said, rolling his eyes but then grinning. Then he turned to his desk, picking something up from behind the stack of books. A sunflower. He handed it to me, his cheeks tinged pink. "Uh, this is for you. I mean, not for you. But what's a guy like me going to do with sunflowers, right?"

People had given me flowers before, but this felt different. I accepted it quietly, but gave him a little smile.

"So, why's the vineyard so special?" I asked, placing the sunflower in my purse.

"Uh, honestly, it's not the vineyard that's special. It's the field." After a moment's pause, he said, "I have some memories tied to there. My mom and I used to visit the sunflower fields sometimes."

"You don't anymore?" 

"Well. I'd like to think she still comes with me there when I visit, even if it's not the way I want."

I glanced at him, uncertain what he meant. 

"She passed away a couple of years ago," he said. His usual playful smile was missing now, and his eyes glazed over as if he wasn't even fully there. "My mom was the one person who truly got me. My dad... He tries, which is more than enough. But me and my mom, we just..." He trailed off, linking two fingers together. "Like that."

"I am so sorry," I said, instinctively squeezing his hand. "Losing a part of you is never easy. She'd be proud of you, though, you know?"

"Thank you, Haven Grey," he whispered. Then, his lips turned into a smile, and I could tell he was going to say something stupid. "And you think? Even though I sometimes make shitty choices?"

"That's what love is. You love the good and the bad."

He nodded. "That's real. I used to think I could act the way I did and get away with it because I was going through shit. I've made a lot of shitty choices, Haven. Things you probably wouldn't even like me for if you knew."

He hesitated. "But then I realized everything I did would catch up to me, and it wouldn't change anything. My mom wasn't returning, and after a while, people wouldn't make excuses for me just because I was dealing with loss. It didn't make me special... it just made me a hurt person who hurt others. So, I stopped being a fuck-up. Well, on most days." His familiar smile returned, even though I could tell it was hard for him to admit.

"Do you miss her?" I asked. He didn't think it was a stupid question; he knew exactly what I meant.

He paused for a moment. "Yeah. I don't think I'll ever stop, but I think she's here with me. She'd like you."

My heartbeat resounded in my ears.

"Really?" I kept my voice casual, even though everything within me felt like it was elevating.

"Yeah. She'd tell me how special a girl like you was, and I'd be stupid to ruin that." He wouldn't quite meet my eyes, and that scared me.

Ruin what?

I didn't want to question the weight of his words. So instead, I said something else. "I bet I would've liked her too," I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. "Griffin, you're a good guy. Even if you think you aren't. I think I judged you too fast."

He laughed a little, brushing some strands of his hair off his forehead. "Don't worry, most people do."

"I messed up," I said. "Especially because I know I hate when people do that to me." I smiled, remembering the unique start to our friendship. "I never thought we'd be friends. But you're one of the few people who gets me. And someone I can be myself with." I looked at him to show him I meant it.

"Yeah?" he said, a lopsided grin on his lips. "Ah, come on. You're Miss Popular. Everyone likes you."

That was the thing. Everyone did like me. I had the boy everyone wanted, the perfect group of friends, and the life everyone wished for. And yet sometimes, it felt like that life wasn't real; it wasn't mine. And if I made even one mistake, it would disappear.

When everybody liked you, you were the loneliest you could be.

"Surface level, yeah. But you like me... despite the bad things." I licked my lips. "You know. The good and the bad. To quote the wise Haven Grey." I gave him a cheeky grin.

He laughed. "Now it sounds like I have to compliment you."

"It wouldn't hurt," I joke lightly. "Besides, is that all you think of me as? Popular?" I was teasing him, wondering how far he'd take it.

"No." His voice was grave, intense eyes watching me. "I think of you as a lot more."

My heart thudded.

He cracked a smile. "Also, to be fair, it's a simple job. To like you, I mean. You don't have many bad traits," Griffin chuckled. But then his smile disappeared. He cocked his head back slightly and muttered, "Fuck."

"What happened?" I searched his face, wondering if I had said something wrong.

"I stay away from you because I don't want to do something stupid." He took one step closer, and I forgot to breathe altogether.

"And I don't want to lose this, even if it's just what we have now." His voice was hoarse, and it scared me to say anything because I didn't want to break this moment. It felt like my heart was fighting with my ribcage, the way it was hammering.

"But whenever you're near me... I don't know, but I know I need to know. If it's something I'm imagining, or..." he trailed off. "If I admit this, there's no going back. But there's a reason I came to that party and kept showing up at the country club last summer."

And that's when he looked at me, and I wish he hadn't.

Because Griffin Keely wasn't supposed to be my friend.

He wasn't supposed to be my anything.

He walked up to me, his eyes focused on my own and his breathing unsteady. I could hear it because it felt like it was the only sound in the room. I held my breath, almost mesmerized as he closed the distance between us, the heat from his body making it hard to think about anything else.

"Please stop me before I do something so fucking stupid," he said in a husky, low tone, almost crazed. He tilted my chin up, and for a split second, I imagined what it would be like for us to kiss. Then Justin and Natasha popped into my mind, and I realized it wasn't about what I wanted.

It wasn't about me at all.

Right before he leaned in, I stopped him.

"We — we can't. I'm sorry." I might've imagined it, but a look of hurt seemed to cross his face. His fingers were still on my chin when the door opened.

Natasha stood there, staring at us in shock.