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❝You only lose what you cling to.❞

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I PUT MY LIPS around the straw and sip the thick chocolate shake, my eyes roaming the crowded diner. The scent of cooked burgers and grease lays in the air as all the care-free teenagers in the room laugh and chatter out loud. I press my fingertips to the icy cup, feeling my hair stick to my forehead as sweat tickles down my neck. The air conditioners are working poorly, not doing the afternoon heat any mercy.

After leaving the school, I got in my car and drove aimlessly around the town with nowhere to go. After twenty minutes, I decided to stop at this ancient but well-known diner at the outskirts of the town for a drink. Thankfully, it looks like no one from our school is here.

I hear the bell chime, signaling that someone's entered, before I see the person I least expect here. But then again, I don't expect anyone to be here.

"India! What are you doing here?" Ethan asks with a grin. There is a thin sheet of sweat on his forhead, his hair is ruffled, and his green eyes are twinkling as he looks at me with delight. I manage a small smile and point to my drink. "I didn't know you came here."

"I don't. I just decided to stop by for a drink," I reply to which he nods. "You?"

"I work here. My shift starts in thirty, but I was dropping a friend near here anyways. Is this seat taken?"

I hesitate before answering. The reason I came here is that I wanted some time alone to forget everything that happened today; forget the people back in our town. I bite my lips and nod. He works here and will know that I'm lying when ten minutes later, the 'person I'm waiting for' doesn't come.

"You don't want anything? Everything's on the house."

I smile appreciatively. "Thank you, but I don't eat fast food. Yeah, I don't find the idea of greasy food cooked up on a, most probably, dirty grill that may or my not posion me," I add when his eyebrows raise in surprise. "No offense."

"It's fine, what you're saying is true," he then leans in and jokingly speaks in a hushed tone. "But don't tell anyone I said that, can't afford loosing my tongue. . . Or job."

"Tongue?" I ask, my smile widening into a grin.

"My aunt owns this place and has me under her eye."

I let out a small laugh, making him lean back in satisfaction. He really does have his way with his words.

"There we go. What's gotten you in such a sour mood?"

My smile falters as I recall what happened. "School stuff."

He seems to believe it because he doesn't push it any longer. "Of course. Our exams are coming up soon. Are you going to your winter dance?"

"I don't know. Most probably." I swirl my drink with the straw in my hand, not wanting to lead him on.

"You know, I wasn't quite pleased with our date a few days ago," he quips.

At first, my mind is a sheet of white paper as I try to recall what he's talking about. My eyebrows drop as I realize he means the ball. After that one dance with him when Hunter took me away, I got preoccupied with Heidi that I didn't see him for the rest of the night. I feel a pang of guilt; he's still smiling as if it never happened. "I'm so sorry about that. I got carried away with something."

"It's okay, but you have to make it up for me," he winks.

I sigh in a troubled way, bracing myself for what I'm about to say. "Ethan, you're amazing. You're sweet, genuine, funny, and deserve the very best. . . that's why you shouldn't be with me."

It's like I'm a drunk driver in a big pickup truck, and everyone that I come across ends up being run over by me. It's never intentional, but it's just the inevitable. Ethan is good; why would I want to run over every good person or thing in life?

The happy expression that he's been sporting ever since he laid eyes on me finally drops. "Woah. Where is all of this coming from?"

"Trust me, you're the last person you want to be with right now. I can. . ." Ruin you, I don't say.

He frowns. "You can what? I bet we can figure it out together."

I squeeze my eyes shut painfully. He isn't making this any easier.

The silence between us stretched on as everyone around us laughs and talks loudly. I want to yell at him that I'm a damaged person, that I'll never do him any good. Can't he understand? Instead, I look down as I feel his intense gaze on me.

He hardens his expression when I look back up. "If you didn't want to be with me all along, you could've just said so. . ."

I watch helplessly as he slides out of the booth and curtly nods. "Goodbye."

I bite the insides of my cheeks, resisting the urge to wrap my hands around his wrists and pull him back to me. This is what's supposed to happen. I can't get too close before loosing control.

Sighing, I pay for my milkshake and leave the noisy diner. Maybe when everything's solved out, we can try again, I think hopefully. Maybe.

---

I push the front door to our house open and step in, slipping off my shoes on the floor. The house lacks the sound of a shower running or a TV turnt on, signaling that my parents aren't home. Stepping into the kitchen, I flip on the light switch and grab an apple from the fruit plate. Something cold touches my bare skin, making me jump in my place and rapidly turn around.

I scowl at Jeromy's ear-to-ear grin. "What are you doing here?"

"I was bored." — he picks up a banana, peels it, and takes a bite — "And I couldn't find you after that lockdown."

"How'd you get in?" I leave the kitchen to go to our living room with Jeromy on my heels.

"Remember when we made a copy of the house keys for me?"

"Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting that." I got him a copy of our keys because I often got too drunk to drive so he he'd get me home safely.

He sits next to me on the couch and kicks back his feet on the coffee table. "So, what d'ya want to do?" Before I can answer, he continues to give his suggestion. "Let's jump into your pool."

"Or we can just watch a movie. I'm too-" Before I can finish my sentence, Jeromy hooks an arm under my knees and the other behind my back, picking me up effortlessly.

"Jeromy, what are you doing? Put me down!" I protest, trying to wriggle free, but he just grins mischievously back at me as he carries me out of the living room. He slides the glassdoors that lead outside, and I widen my eyes, realizing what he's about to do. "No, no, no no!"

The last thing I hear is the sound of his deep laugh before we both plunge into the slapping cold water, sucking the oxygen out of my lungs; everything is silenced. It takes a second for my brain to register my surroundings before I open my eyes open to see Jeromy's blurred face. Bubbles float out of his mouth as he laughs, resurfacing back up. I follow him to the surface and take a deep gulp of breath.

"What the hell was that, Beckett?" I ask, pushing the mop of blonde hair out of my narrowed eyes. My clothes were sticking to my body as I talk.

"That was awesome. It was getting kind of hot, don't you think?" he asks with a smirk at my scowling face. when my facial expression doesn't change, he says, "Come on, Nina, relax a little."

He floats on his back before doing a little flip and faces me again with a 'tadaa-jazz-hands' look. I roll my eyes as my lips tug into a smile.

"You need to get a check up with a psychologist, Jer," I say it as I'm smiling, though. I slip off my tank top, throwing it to the side of the pool before unzipping my jeans and pulling them off with struggle.

"Oh, India, if that's what you wanted, then you could've told me straight away." He wiggles his eyebrows and takes a step closer.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, sweetie," I say sarcastically with a roll of my eyes, pushing his hard chest.

"Whatever you say." He follows and takes off his clothes as well.

Without the uncomfortable and heavy weight of my clothes, I'm able to float freely. "This is actually fun."

"That's because it was my idea, darling," Jeromy winks at me, and I roll my eyes in return, lightly splashing him.

***

I wrap the towel tightly around my body covered in cold droplets of water, gripping the corners of the cloth as I step out of the bathroom. Jeromy and I spent a good hour or so in the pool until our skin has wrinkled up and we decided to step out.

Hearing an iPhone ring from the bed, I walk over to it only to realize it's not mine — it's Jeromy's. Hunter's face flashes in the caller ID and before I can answer, the ringing stops. Hunter called twelve times according to the log on Jeromy's background screen.

"Jeromy, Hunter called twelve times," I yell so he can hear me from the other room. I faintly hear him curse as I scroll down, trying to find a reason for the calls.

I find a couple text messages that go like this:

Jeromy. Did you find India, yet?

Answer your calls!

Jeromy, you moron, did you get there yet?

Jeromy! Just tell me if you made sure that she got there safe.

Come on.

Before I can register the revelation and the emotions I'm about to feel, the phone rings again, flashing Hunter's face, and my heart jumps in shock and fear.

Just then, Jeromy knocks on the door rapidly. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." I say without thinking, realizing too late that I'm only in a towel.

Much to his expense, his eyes don't linger on me, he just rushes to the phone in my hand and places it next to his ear, answering the call. I watch his retreating back out of the room with one thought in my head.

Hunter cares.