"I can't fit this in my mouth," I complained. "It's too big."

I attempted to take a bite from my burger, but it seemed almost impossible. Each time I tilted the sandwich, a pickle would fall out, or a slice of tomato would slide over.

Griffin laughed, watching me struggle.

"Come on. How can I not make a dirty comment about that?" he groaned.

I stuck my tongue out at him, matching his childishness with my own. I felt a wetness on my chin, but before I could get a napkin, his thumb flicked up, wiping at the stray juice that had slipped out. A simple touch, and yet everything felt intimate with him.

"So this is the special place where you work your Griffin Keely magic," I said.

Greenwood Diner was a local burger place famous for its 1950s diner style. Each navy blue and white table had jukebox stations where you could choose songs for just a quarter. There was an arcade in the back, and every once in a while, you could see the flashing lights go off from someone who had won a prize from the toy crane machine.

Griffin smiled lazily. He probably knew he looked good, with his tousled black hair spilling over his forehead and the light blue button-down he wore that brought out the ocean blue in his eyes. He leaned forward, pressing a quarter into the machine and turning the dial. Within seconds, Elvis's Hound Dog started playing.

"Trust me, Grey," he said, his voice husky, "The only person special enough for me to have brought here is you."

My cheeks grew hot. "Not bad, Keely. I'll give that pickup line a five."

"Just a five?"

"Just a five."

"What can I get for the other five?" He gave me a cheeky smile.

Butterflies.

I rolled my eyes. "You think you're so sly, Griffin Keely."

"Let's play a game," he said, a devilish smile spreading across his face. "Whoever backs down from a dare first loses."

"What does the winner get?" I said, not one to back down from a challenge.

"Bragging rights. And a kiss from the loser."

"Just a kiss?" I teased.

"Don't joke about it if you're not about it, Grey," he said in a faux serious tone.

I pursed my lips together as I thought of a dare. "I dare you to..." I looked around the restaurant before I saw a young couple sharing a milkshake. "Sit next to that couple over there for a minute without saying anything."

"What?" he said, looking back at me. "Seriously?"

I stuck a straw into my glass of water, biting back a giggle. "Time's ticking."

He shook his head and then winked at me. "Game on." He confidently walked over to the table to join the couple, sliding into the booth without saying anything. They looked at him with the weirdest expression as he peered at the menu nonchalantly.

I brought my menu to my face, trying to hide my laughter as he walked back.

"I'm pretty sure they're going to get a restraining order against me if they ever see me again," he said. "Your turn. Okay, I dare you to walk to the takeout guy and ask if you can deliver the order instead."

I looked at the delivery guy standing by the front, looking bored and pissed off as he organized someone's order into a bag. He didn't look like he'd be in the mood for any joke. "I lose," I said airily.

"Unfair —" He started to say, but I stopped him by leaning in and kissing him. When I sat back down, he reached out and touched my hand before tracing his fingers on my thigh. I moved back, the sudden touch a little too close for being in public, and he smirked at my reaction.

The door jingled as a new customer walked in. I looked up to see Cari, sunglasses perched on her head, as she walked to the front desk.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up a delivery order. Under Cari Parker." Her eyes slid Griffin and me, and she furrowed her eyebrows.

I drew my legs together, suddenly having a bad feeling about this. The feeling escalated when she received her bag and walked toward our table.

"Since when do you two hang out?" Her voice was anything but kind.

"Just two friends getting food," I replied, cautiously choosing my words. I saw Griffin's eyes hover over my face for a second.

"I call bullshit," she said. "You know what's funny? I knew this would happen. I bet you were so happy when Natasha was finally out of the picture so you could have your hands all over —"

"Leave her alone." Griffin's voice came out dangerously low.

My cheeks grew hot. That's not true, I told myself. Don't let her get to you.

Cari turned her attention towards Griffin, her lip curling. "You dated her."

He gritted his teeth, looking at her with the harshest gaze I'd ever seen him have.

She looked back at me and shook her head. "It's always funny when a girl chooses the guy over the girl. Do you think you're special? He's going to dump you, and you'll end up like Natasha. Crying, alone, and heartbroken for what?" She laughed drily. I wanted to say something, but my voice was failing me at that point.

"Cari, don't say shit about something you don't get, and get the hell out of here," Griffin snapped. He stood up sharply, and I looked up.

A few people from the other tables glanced our way, and I tried to pull his hand to make him sit down again, but he wasn't done. "Before I say something that I'll regret."

Cari looked at my hand, tugging at Griffin's, and shook her head.

"What? Are you going to put your hands on me?" she laughed. "You wouldn't. You're ever the gentleman."

"Cari," I breathed. "We're hurting, but we can't put our lives on hold. We have to move on."

I felt Griffin's gaze on me and felt comfortable saying the words I had been harboring this whole time. "I've been so caught trying to find out why Natasha hurt us.... why someone would hurt her... that I've forgotten to live for myself. But we care about her. Natasha was our friend, too."

"No," she said, her voice catching. "No, she wasn't. In fact... I don't know what happened to Natasha. But I know you guys killed her a long time before she was dead."

With that, she left.

I stared down at my food, suddenly not hungry anymore. Griffin sat back down, his eyes filled with worry as he looked at me.

"Haven —"

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything." My voice came out smaller than I wanted it to. Hound Dog was still playing in the background, and I reached out to turn the nozzle off. Before I could, Griffin took my hand and looked at me earnestly, the anger on his face from talking to Cari dissipating into warmth.

When I pulled my hand out of his grasp, I saw the look on his face, and I wish I hadn't. I pulled some money out of my purse for the bill.

He grabbed my arm before I could. "I don't want your money, Haven."

"It's for my half," I said.

He took out his wallet, pulling out enough to cover both of us, and grabbed the bills I had put on the table, pressing them back into my hand.

"I don't want your money," he repeated.

"Can you take me home?" I asked, not having the energy to fight it.

He nodded. We stood up, silent on the way to the car. I knew he was watching me, but I avoided his gaze.

"Can we talk?" he said once we were sitting inside.

"Cari's right," I said, shaking my head. "This is wrong. How can I do that to her? If Natasha were here right now, you and I would never be a thing. We're only together because of her." I squeezed my hands together in my lap.

"That's not true," he replied, his voice strained.

"Griffin, what are we even doing?" I asked. I didn't want to look at him because I knew his gaze would kill me.

"You tell me, Grey," he said, his jaw set as he looked at me, his blue eyes staring into mine. "Because it looks like you think you have it all figured out, but really, you're just running away because you're scared."

"That's not fair," I said. "Things between my mom and I aren't good right now — nothing is. Am I supposed to forget everyone and choose you? I don't even know if you'll leave me or if I'm just some other girl to you." I looked at him, hating the vulnerability in my voice but asking him the question without saying it directly.

Are you going to leave me?

"No!" He frustratedly gripped the steering wheel. "I've made many mistakes in the past, and I've hurt other girls. If I could take back the things I did, I would. But how can I make you understand that you're not like any of them?"

When I didn't reply, he moved his fingers under my chin, making me turn to him.

"No one's going to understand us," he said softly. "Not now, maybe not for a long time. But Grey, I need you. And I know you need me too. Please don't push me away."

I was a liar if I said he wasn't right. But Cari had gotten in my head, and all I could think about were the faces of the people who looked at me as if they didn't recognize me anymore.

Natasha's face hurt the most.

"I can't," I said. "This — us — it's a bad idea. I think we should just un-complicate things and end whatever this is."

We shouldn't.

"You don't mean that." His voice was rough, and it pained me to look at him. 

"I do."

I don't.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"How can you lie like that, Haven?" he said, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. "I know you want this just as much as I do. Don't run away again."

Again. Because I had years ago, and nothing had changed. I raised my gaze, looking at him. His eyes were piercing and vulnerable, and I almost changed my mind.

Almost.

"You said it yourself, at the summer house," I said, my voice shaking. "It's too late for us."

His eyes clouded over. He hadn't known that I was awake that night.

I willed myself not to cry as he started driving. He sped past the limit when he wasn't supposed to and stopped too jerkily at the red lights.

As promised, he dropped me off.

As planned, I didn't let myself cry until my back was to him and I was at the front door of my house. Once inside, I snuck a peek at him, still in his car from the window, and saw him hit his steering wheel in anger.

He didn't drive off right away.

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. I thought of the look on his face, and I wondered how someone who was only an 'almost' could hurt so much.

People said that when you were heartbroken, it felt like your world was ending. It didn't feel like that to me — it felt like the world was still moving, words were being said, thoughts were spinning. But amidst all the noise, I wasn't truly there because I was stuck trying to remember how to breathe properly, think properly.

I wanted to call Griffin and tell him I didn't mean it. I'd hold his hand and tell him that even if no one else mattered, he did. But I couldn't because of Natasha. A friend who was never supposed to leave me.

Someone that I thought I had blocked out, acting like I didn't care about her death when I did. Because I had never gotten to yell at her, tell her that a friend hurt me more than a boy ever could. I never got to tell her screw you for leaving when she wasn't supposed to. I never got to say I was sorry, never got to tell her I miss you, never got to say goodbye.

"Did you pick up the donuts from —"

Dev's voice drifted in from the living room as he walked over, stopping at the sight of my tear-stained face. Without a word, he walked over and wrapped his arms around me. I know he wanted to make me feel better, but considering he rarely hugged me first, it only made me want to cry harder.

"Do you still want to pick up some donuts?" I sniffled. "I could use some."

"Let's go get those donuts," he said, grabbing the keys from the hook and giving me a small smile.

Do: Use donuts as a coping mechanism.

Don't: Fall for someone you can't have.

We walked out to the car, and I folded my arms across my chest. My little brother shouldn't be seeing me break down like this.

Dev tossed me the keys. "You're driving, by the way. I feel bad, but I also don't want to crash the car, so."

"Fair enough," I said. "Ryder's donuts? They have the best blueberry ones."

"Hell yeah. Oh, and someone called you earlier."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know — it was weird because it sounded like one of those automated voices, so I thought it was a prank or spam call. But they left a message. I didn't understand what it meant, but they kept repeating the same thing."

An odd sensation went through me. "What was the message?"

"Darian was innocent."