A few minutes later, Archer walks out of the nightclub with Mya slung over his shoulder, just like he had me. Before Archer even reaches the car, I see Jack walk back into the nightclub, not sparing me another word. The warmth in my chest has been replaced by an ache.

Archer goes to place Mya in the backseat, cursing when he remembers his new car doesn't have one. I roll down the window again just in time to hear him mumble, "Fuck me in the ass, bro," before he pulls out his phone and to call an Uber for her.

"Tweedledee and Tweedledum. What a pair you two make," Archer grumbles as he waits for the Uber with Mya still in his arms.

"Am I Tweedledee or Tweedledum?" I ask.

"I wanna be Tweedledum," Mya giggles sleepily. A few minutes later, her Uber arrives. Archer places her gently in the backseat, then leans into the front seat to talk to the driver, who can't be much older than Archer himself. Even though he tries to lower his voice, I hear him say, "You better get her home safe and fucking sound, got it? If you don't, I'll hunt your ass down and shank you."

Then he takes a photo of the driver's face and the license plate before letting them drive off.

"Seriously, you two should have been more careful," Archer says sternly as he slides into the driver's seat. "What if one of you had blacked out? Who's gonna take care of you if the other one is just as drunk? What were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry," I say honestly, feeling bad that he had to postpone his night out with his basketball friends for me and Mya. The ache in my chest has combined with the alcohol to produce a swell of emotion threatening to break any moment. "I just wanted to have some fun."

"You can have fun without putting yourself in danger."

Archer's being logical, but once my mouth starts moving, I can't stop the flow of uninhibited truth and emotion that comes flowing out of me. As my face starts to scrunch and tears start to burn my throat, I start to wish that I was a sleepy drunk like Mya and not an emotional one.

"Next time you two go out, I want you to tell me where yo—Are you crying?" Archer takes his hands off the wheel to get a better look at me in the dark. "Dude, I'm not mad at you."

"No," I say, burying my face in my hands. My tears are escalating quickly, and I turn and rest my head on the center console as my body heaves with drunken sobs. I'm about to unload all my troubles onto him when my phone rings. I audibly gasp when I see the name on the screen.

Noticing my reaction, Archer picks up the phone before I can gather the courage to, holding it to his ear. "Hello," he says curtly. I hear the muffled sound of Levi talking on the other end, and I'm terrified for what he could possibly be telling Archer right now. Archer doesn't know about anything that went down between us, so this is Levi's opportunity to spin the truth.

I tug on Archer's arm, coaxing him into ending the call, but Archer just leans away, listening to Levi. Surprisingly, his face betrays nothing, no anger or shock, which relieves me. But that relief of quickly squashed when Archer holds the phone out to me, his face neutral. "He wants to talk to you."

With a shaky hand, I take the phone. "What do you want?" I say coldly, sobering up for this phone call.

"Scarlett?"

"What do you want?" I repeat, even harsher this time, trying not to slur my words. "I told you to leave me the hell alone." Archer's looking more concerned by the tone of my voice, picking up on the tension right now.

"I know, and I'm sorry that I pushed you to that point. Everything is my fault, I know," he says. "I just needed to apologize for how I acted. In class and when you came to my apartment."

"Sorry won't fix what you said to me."

"I understand that." He takes a deep breath, and I can imagine the harsh line of his mouth right now as he finds the right words. "I wasn't me at all. Thinking about Zeke's death brought back all these emotions that I thought I'd moved past, and I wanted to make you feel as hurt and angry as his death made me feel. I fucked up, and you have every right to not want to talk to me."

"Then you'll understand why I don't want to be talking to you right now," I say. "I appreciate the apology and your honesty, but this doesn't change anything."

"You're right. I never should have hurt you like I did," he admits. "I also wanted to tell you that I switched out of the psych class."

This catches my attention. "Thanks for telling me," I manage to say, although I shouldn't have to be thanking him at all for telling me that he decided to not be an asshole anymore.

"Of course. Honestly, I actually thought you'd appreciate me being in that class. While we were together," he pauses, probably contemplating referencing our relationship in the past-tense, "I remember you talking about how much you wished you had friends in the same major as you. So you could have people you knew in your classes that you could study with. I really didn't mean to overstep."

"Well, you did. Then you were rude to me after I told you how much I didn't want you in the class." I sit up in my seat, thinking back to that day, trying to remember why I'm mad at him. The drunken fog in my head makes it hard to visualize everything he's done to me. "You said horrible things to me. Disgusting things."

"And I wish I could take those words back. Crims—Scarlett, I just wanted to spend time with you. I liked you a lot, I still do, and I couldn't tell when I was crossing the line with my romantic gestures." His voice is soft, sounding compellingly sincere. "I'm sorry for freaking you out. If we could meet up sometime, I'd really want to just explain everything. Any question you have, I'll answer honestly."

I focus on the car's taillights ahead of us, trying to keep a solid composure. "I don't think that's a very good idea," I say. "I think it'd be best if we just stayed away from each other."

Levi doesn't have an answer for that. He's silent. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, understanding.

"When we last spoke, I revealed a side of myself that I'm not proud of. It's a part of myself that I've been working on since Zeke died, and I never meant for you to see me in that light. It's not the type of person I want to be, especially not for you," he says, and suddenly, my heart starts to hurt for him again. In that instant, I realize that I'm talking to a boy who lost his one and only brother.

"I want you to know me. You don't know how much I want to have someone to share every part of me with, even the broken pieces that I convinced myself that no one could ever love."

"That's all I wanted from you, Levi. The truth about you and your past," I say angrily, wondering why he's waited until now to offer this all to me. After I broke up with him, now he decides to let me in? "I asked for that, and you were rude to me. Talked down to me like I was nothing."

"And I'm so sorry that I lost control like that. I let my fear get the best of me. It will never happen again, I swear." His voice quiets. "I was scared. I was afraid that once you saw the darker side of me, you'd never look at me the same. I want to give you the truth about who I am, but the thought of letting someone in like that is terrifying."

I feel it coming, the reason he called. He pauses. Then the slim crack in my heart widens at the sincerity in his voice—the regret. "If you'll just give me another chance, I swear I won't fuck it up. I'm crazy about you, and I'll do anything to make this right."

But I won't be swayed. "I hope you find someone to love, Levi," I say, not giving him a single inch of hope. "Truly, I hope you let someone in one day." But it won't be me. Not anymore.

I hear him take a breath, then his voice is back to being steady and smooth as liquid. "Okay," he says simply. "Get home safe."

Then the phone call ends, and I'm back to sobbing to Archer. The emotions I was holding at bay to maintain my composure during the phone call all come back to the surface, covering my face in tears. "What was that about?" Archer asks.

"I just . . . I don't know. I broke up with Levi. I didn't even know him. I feel so stupid."

Archer places a hand on my hair, stroking the top of my head soothingly. "Hey, it's all over now. Levi's gone," he says calmingly. "Anyone who makes you feel stupid isn't worth your time."

I'm getting snot all over his car, but he's not saying anything. "It's like he has two different sides, and I just can't handle not knowing which one I'll get everyday. He's exhausting."

"You ended it though, right? He's not your problem anymore."

"And now I think Jack hates me," I sob.

"Jack doesn't hate you."

"I miss how we used to be," I say honestly, sniffing loudly. I raise my head and look at Archer.

"When you were friends or when you were dating?"

I drop my head back down, confused by his question. "I don't know." I sob even louder. "I ruined everything. It was all just so tiring. I'm just so tired, Archie."

"You can sleep when I drop you off at your dorm," he says reassuringly, smoothing my hair down.

"No," I yell louder than necessary. "I don't want to be alone in my dorm. I don't want you to leave. We never spend any time together anymore. Because of me."

"We're spending time together right now," he points out gently. "Do you want to sleep on my couch tonight?"

"No."

"Do you want me to sleep on your floor?"

I nod slowly. "You should move into the dorm right next to mine."

Archer laughs. "How about we just hang out more?"

I groan. "You never have time to hang out with me anymore," I complain. "You always have to play basketball and go to parties."

"Is that all you think I do?"

"I'm never going to see you ever again," I sob loudly. "You're gonna forget I'm even your sister and you're gonna see me in public and you're not even gonna recognize me because you forgot what I look like."

"That's not true—"

I cut him off with more crying, and Archer pulls my hair out of my face so the strands don't get stuck on my tear-stained face.

"Listen, tomorrow I have a basketball thing at the courts tomorrow morning," he says comfortingly. "You can come if you want, and we can hang out together."

My head shoots up, and I look at him with puffy eyes. "You mean it?" I sniff.

Archer smiles. "Of course."

♔

I pull up to the stadium, in the morning like Archer told me to. He didn't tell me what this event was, so I wore baggy jeans, a fitted long-sleeve top, and a cropped puffer jacket since it's pretty chilly outside. My best guess is that this is some sort of social event.

But as I walk up to the building, I don't see athletes and other students. I see . . . middle aged couples and children. Children and their parents, the more I observe.

What the actual fuck, Archer?

Walking into the actual stadium, I see about ten members of the basketball team wearing matching white shirts with VOLUNTEER written on the back. They're standing with about thirty kids sitting around them on the courts. Some parents are sitting in the stands, but most of them seem to have dropped their kids off and left.

I walk down and sit in the front row of the bleachers. I realize Archer is one of the guys talking to the little kids. The kids—looking like they range from six to ten years old—look starry-eyed and excited as they listen to my brother speak while dribbling a basketball.

"What're you doing here?" A voice says to my left. I stand up, not sure if I'm allowed to be here, and only relax slightly when I realize it's Jack. He has two mesh bags filled with basketballs slung over his shoulders and is wearing a volunteer shirt as well.

"Um, Archer invited me," I explain, sitting back down. "Not sure why, though. I don't know if this is the place for me."

Jack looks around and laughs. "Yeah, I'm not sure either." He sets down the basketballs and sits next to me. "You get home in one piece last night?" He asks.

I laugh, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, Archer made sure of it." I fold my hands in my lap nervously. "Listen, last night, I was . . ."

"Plastered?" He finishes for me, a teasing smile on his face. "Don't worry, I kind of figured it was the alcohol talking."

"I'm sorry," I say.

He gives me a curious look. "For what?"

"For. . . being weird last night," I explain, wondering if he really doesn't see anything wrong with the way I acted.

Jack just shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. "You asked me what book I was reading and what it was about. Nothing weird," he says casually, but we both know it's not true.

I'm about to say something when Archer jogs up in front of us, and we both try to act normal. "You came," Archer points out, sounding slightly surprised.

"Yeah, and I think I'm actually gonna head out," I say, already putting my hand on the railway up the stairs.

But Archer stops me. "What? Why? It's the first day of Basketball Camp. The fun just started," he exclaims. "You can watch me break these kids' ankles. I can dunk on any one of them, easy."

I look at Jack, wondering if he'd feel uncomfortable if I hung around for a little bit. But he looks indifferent. "Stay," he says, picking up the mesh bags again. "I can get you a volunteer shirt you can help our group. It'll be fun."

Archer laughs. "Volunteer shirt? We should get her a camper shirt, considering her skill level."

I shove his arm with mine, rolling my eyes at his jab. "I'll stay just to prove that I have more skill than you give me credit for," I state.

"Alright, but if you're staying, you cannot be wearing that." Archer gestures to my outfit for emphasis, specifically my jeans. "I think I have an extra pair of gym shorts in my locker. I'll be right back."

Then he jogs off to get me pants to change into. Just as I begin to fear that being alone with Jack, even for a few moments, will be awkward, one of the campers runs up to me and wraps herself around me in a hug.

"Hi Ms. Scarlett," she says, letting go of me and flashing me an excited smile. I smile back when I realize she's in my ballet class. "Are you here to play basketball too?"

I nod my head, sitting back down so we're at eye-level. "Matter of fact, I am," I say. "Are you gonna teach me how to play basketball? I really want to learn."

"No," the little girl—Nina—exclaims. She points to her shirt that says CAMPER. "I'm here to learn too."

At that moment, Nina seems to notice the other person standing next to her. She looks over at Jack, and her eyes get kind of big as she stares up at him. He smiles at her, but she looks slightly terrified and moves closer to me.

"Nina, this is my friend, Jack," I tell her, gesturing toward Jack.

"Is he your boyfriend?" she asks, still staring at Jack. "He's big."

I laugh, and I see Jack trying to hide his amusement. "No, he's not my boyfriend." Anymore. "He's gonna teach you how to play basketball."

"I'm gonna teach both of you how to play basketball," Jack clarifies. Then he cups his hand beside his mouth, acting like he's whispering to Nina. "Don't tell her I said this, but Scarlett isn't very good."

Nina giggles. "Do you wanna see my ballerina moves?" she asks out of the blue, eager to show off to Jack. Before he can even answer, she takes a few steps back and shows him a very short pirouette, finishing with a very wobbly passé and tendu.

Jack watches her with an encouraging smile, and when she's done, he gives her a round of applause. "That was amazing, Nina. Are you sure Scarlett is the teacher and not you?" he asks, earning another fit of laughs from her.

"Now you try," she instructs him. "Do what I did."

Jack makes a show of stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles, getting ready to do a pirouette. "Okay, but it won't be as good as yours," he says. Then he does the worst pirouette I've ever seen, and I almost double over laughing when he tips over while attempting a passé. Nina finds it just as funny.

"Again, do it again, Jack," she says, clapping her hands. "Do it again!"

Jack looks like he wants to keep entertaining Nina, but he looks over at where the other volunteers are rounding up the kids for warmup drills. "How about I teach you how to play basketball now, and later, you show me how to dance. Deal?" he offers.

After Nina happily agrees, she insists on holding Jack's hand to walk over to join the other kids, and Jack obliges, even though that means carrying both bags of basketballs over one shoulder.

An hour later, after I've changed into more appropriate clothing and helped Archer and Jack run drills with the kids, everyone in the camp lines up for a fun game of Knockout. Well, it's probably fun for everyone else. I get eliminated my first turn, so I watch all the fun from the stands.

The kids are having an absolute blast, cheering and jumping up and down as they wait their turn. The way they're lined up, the volunteers are mostly eliminating each other, leaving the campers to eliminate themselves.

I watch empathetically as one camper struggles to make a basket. The kid in front of him sinks a shot and passes it to Jack. It's obvious that the camper is getting embarrassed, missing shot after shot. Once Jack gets the ball, I can tell the kid gets even more nervous, knowing Jack could easily eliminate him by sinking a single basket.

But I watch as Jack continually misses his shots, shooting the ball in the same spot between the side of the rim and the backboard.

He does this until the camper finally makes a shot, which takes what seems like forever. Then as soon as he does, Jack's next shot goes right in.

For the next few minutes, I watch as Jack does this every time he's shooting against another kid. He misses every shot right up until the kid in front of him scores.

"Always the good guy. Letting the kids win," Archer says, sitting next to me after being eliminated by Jack himself. "What ever happened to no mercy?"

"Maybe he has a heart, unlike you," I quip. "Do you enjoy destroying the self confidence of six-year-olds?"

"It's one of my only pleasures in life."

On the court, Jack is up against Nina, and instead of just stalling, he actively helps her, passing her his ball when hers rolls into the stands and telling her where to stand and aim. When she finally makes a shot, she runs over and high-fives him.

Archer watches me as I watch him. "I guess you're right," he adds. "He does have a pretty big heart."

♔

After the camp has ended and the kids have left with their parents, I help the guys clean up the court. A few of them say that I should help out for the rest of the week since the kids seemed to love me, and I tell them that I'll consider it.

Once most of the guys leave, it's once against just me and Jack standing by the bleachers, waiting for Archer to come back from putting the equipment away.

"So how'd you like your first day of camp?" Jack asks, obviously trying to make small talk. I appreciate his attempt to make this less awkward.

"It was pretty fun," I say honestly. "Don't think I got any better at basketball, though. I'm almost positive most of the kids could beat me any day."

Jack laughs, sitting down next to me. "Before you know it, Nina will be crossing you up in dance class." I smile, imagining Nina bragging to all the other girls about Jack teaching her how to play basketball.

"She's definitely gonna remember you promising to let her teach you her dance moves," I warn him. "Before she left, she asked me if you're gonna join our dance class."

"Is that a formal offer?" he asks. "Don't tempt me."

"If you're down to wear tights and a leotard, it definitely is," I say, and we both look down at his legs, imagining him putting on a skin-tight pair of pink tights.

"I don't think anyone wants to see that," Jack chuckles, shaking his head at the thought. He leans back in the seat and turn to me, and once again, I see his eyes flick down to my lips for a fraction of a second.

Is this all in my head? Or is his heart pumping just as fast as mine is right now?

And just like that, all I can think about is pressing myself against him, feeling his heart's rhythm against my own chest. Feeling the warmth of his mouth as it slides across mine.

I don't think I've ever wanted anything more than the simple sensation of his skin against mine. I find myself leaning closer to him, chasing the feeling in my chest.

Jack turns away from me before my potent gaze can run any wilder. His eyes drop to his lap, and he looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here next to me. "Scarlett, you can't keep doing this."

He clasps his hands together and avoids my eyes.

"You ended things between us, remember?" And his voice is clear as day, like he's repeated these words to himself dozens of times before. "You chose him."

"I think I've realized a few things since then," I tell him honestly. All my cards might as well be on the table, even though my heart feels like it's lodged in my throat right now. "Levi and I aren't together, but even before we broke up, I realized that I may still have feelings for you. I can't stop thinking about us."

"Please, just stop." My heart drops even further when Jack just shakes his head again. "I get that you might have felt something toward me last night when you had a few too many drinks. But you said it yourself, you were out of it."

Then he looks at me like he's trying to figure me out while also shielding his own emotions from view. He's closed himself off from me. "I'm not gonna be the guy that you run to when you're confused or lonely. I can't."

"You're not at all," I say instinctively. "I care about you, Jack. That's why I'm telling you this."

Sincerity shines through Jack's stony expression. "I care about you too. I always will," he says. "But I won't be your second choice. Not when you'll always be my first."

He looks like a troubled statue as he carefully chooses his next words. "The other night, we agreed to just be friends, and I think we should both respect that."

I force myself to nod my head, even though a strange numbness is growing. "Okay."

"Great." He stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "See you around, Scarlett."

♔

voting

?

thought corner

1. What do you think of Levi's apology? Is it sincere?

2. Should Scarlett have reacted the way she did?

3. Do you agree with Jack's reasoning to stay friends with Scarlett?

♔