Sunlight streaming into my bedroom woke me up. Stirring and stretching, I felt... strange. Unfamiliar. My feet and calves were tired and stiff, but my mind was energetically awake. Shifting my legs, an unfamiliar sensitivity brushed over my skin.

Last night's highlights rushed in, making me blush.

The bright blue of his eyes gazed at me in a way I'd never seen before. Dark, frustrated, and hungry. My frustration mixed with uncertainty and desire, pricking goosebumps up my forearms. The part in my lips was slight, not the rounding 'Oh' as my body bunched tight and then collapsed, making an intense spasm rip through my core and spread everywhere like earthquake aftershocks.

Him underneath me, his heated skin, groans, his hands, him—all were too much for my morning brain. I wanted to scream into my hands, but a yawn took over, and I shuddered my stretched arms through it.

Just as the 9:17 time on my alarm clock came into focus, my phone buzzed.

Harper: u there?

Harper: Coffee house?

"Weird," I muttered and sat up, smoothing my hair over my shoulders. Harper rarely woke up before noon on weekends. Some days, I didn't know how she stayed awake during morning classes.

Me: I'm cooking with Mom today. Join us?

Harper: please

I frowned. She didn't write such cryptic responses and never with the word 'please.' Something happened last night, pulling a twinge of uncertainty in my stomach.

Me: Of course. Are you OK?

My finger hovered over the call button when she replied.

Harper: thanks

Concern dampened my wake-up mood as I dressed and brushed my hair into a ponytail. Picking up my Homecoming dress crumpled on the floor, I turned the soft fabric over and gasped. The backside was dirty and wrinkled like I'd rolled in a ditch with Logan. How messy was his truck?

With the dress tucked under my elbow, I went downstairs. Following the familiar smells of Sunday breakfast, I found Mom sitting with Dad and Jake. Their plates were piled high with sausage patties, scrambled eggs, and breakfast potatoes. Hers being empty meant Dad and Jake were on seconds.

"Morning, Ellie." Dad covered his gruff smile with his coffee cup and took a long sip.

"Good morning."

"Breakfast is on the counter." Mom pointed at the open, steaming containers of leftovers. My stomach growled at the red potatoes, peppers, and onions, even though she always tossed in too much pepper.

I held up my dress. "Mom, can you help me clean this first? I'm wearing it again next weekend."

Jake'schewing stopped. He stabbed a sausage like it owed him money, shoved the wholeround in his mouth, and scowled around his fork. Finished, he dropped hisplate in the sink, muttered he was leaving for Chloe's, and stomped out.

"What's this?" With a wary eye, Mom took the dress and led me into the laundry room.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Hmm." She didn't believe me, flattening the dress over the washer top and retrieving spot cleaner and a cloth from the upper cabinets. "Instead of telling me what it looks like, how about you tell me what happened?"

"We didn't have sex," I reiterated, making her shoulders hunch. "We sat in the back of his truck...star-gazing. I guess it was a little dirty."

"Such a relief knowing you two were lying in the back of Logan's truck together instead of attending the dance." Her mouth pressed matched the disapproving sarcasm in her voice. Shaking her head, her gaze remained on where she dabbed at the dirt spots. "This doesn't look like you were just star-gazing."

"It's the truth. And, this sounds totally stupid and cliché, but...I..." The words, the most important confession of my feelings, stuck in my throat.

"You're falling for him," she murmured at the dress. I sighed, crossed my arms, and leaned against the dryer. Before I answered, she added, "We know."

"Is it obvious?"

She nodded. "As obvious as Jake avoiding you because it makes him feel... I don't know, grumpy."

Because I had feelings for Logan? New level of asshattery unlocked. Given Logan's intentions when we met, I could understand if Jake was cautious, but he acted like the whole world offended him. "I thought he only cared about football and Chloe."

"He's trying." Her emphasis matched her 'Can you say the same?' raised eyebrows. "I like Logan, but you've been seeing each other for less than two months. You spend all of your time together, you're never home, you're making meals for his family, and the way you look at each other..."

Her voice tightened on each accusation, gouging them deeper. I pinched my upper arms.

School, homework, and work took most of my time. I liked making meals, which I preferred myself, and—"What's wrong with how we look at each other?"

"Don't fall too hard, too fast, Sweetie," she said, scrubbing my dress. "I don't want you getting your heart broken after high school ends."

I pulled back at her words. How could she say them? She and Dad were high school sweethearts.

What she didn't say hurt more—she didn't think our relationship would last.

"We don't have to break up after high school." I steadied my voice despite the anger vibrating through me. Nothing had changed—well, a little had, but nothing in our college plan. Why couldn't they accept it? "Especially if we attend the same school."

"Hmm." Her hum was doubtful. "Dad and I are extremely concerned that you're not making the best decisions for your future."

My mouth dropped, but I had no words. How could she say that? Dad didn't attend college, and she'd dropped out her second year. Plus, it was my life, my future. My decision.

She finally looked up, smiling like she didn't enjoy this conversation. "Your future is yours. Don't make it center around a boy."

The boy who applied to 'my' schools. For me. "We're deciding together—"

"What if he gets a full ride from a school we can't afford? What then? Would you make him give up what's best for him?"

We'd already decided. "Mom—"

"What if you get in somewhere, and he doesn't? Just don't let him control your future."

My pulse raced with each breath, and I yanked my dress out from under her fingers. "He's not controlling."

"That's not what I meant." She flashed surrender hands. "For once, please be selfish and decide for yourself. Lately, you're... different. Scattered in so many directions. And we're worried about the decisions you're making."

"You have no idea how much he means to me, and—"

"See if you still feel that way by graduation," she said.

She was wrong. So wrong. I took my dress and the cleaner upstairs, furiously scrubbing it in the bathroom. After a water spot clean, I hung it up in my closet, grabbed my phone, and couldn't leave fast enough.

Me: Now?

Harper: please

***

My concern for Harper tripled when I entered Expresso Yourself, a small coffee house near the Boardwalk. Grains of sand made the wood floors grainy, and the cracks between them tan. Overly caffeinated drinks and breakfast items scented the air. People relaxed in black leather chairs, glued to their laptops or phones for poetic thoughts and internet surfing.

Seeing her sitting on a sofa without a drink, I ordered a hot tea and her signature black coffee made with Robusta beans for extra caffeine.

"Thanks." She didn't lift her gaze from where I set the drink on the table near her knees.

Her eyes were red and swollen, dark circles pressed under them, and her cheeks were blotchy. A messy bun anchored her long hair, and the light freckles across her cheeks she hated and normally buried under foundation were magnified by her flushed skin.

"What happened?" I whispered, sinking beside her. "Are you okay? Did Ryan—"

"I broke up with him."

Her voice was flat and emotionless, like her pale, blank expression. The last thing Logan and I had seen before leaving was them kissing on the dance floor like they were each other's oxygen source.

"What? Did he—"

"We had sex last night." A weighted sadness filled her eyes, and the monotone, cold voice didn't sound like my fiery friend.

"People in relationships do that sometimes, I've heard." Unlike me, Harper and Ryan were eighteen, so legally adults making an adult decision, but I was missing the logic here. "And?"

She closed her eyes. "And it broke."

"It?" How rough was—

"The condom." Tears rolled out of her closed eyes, clumping her lashes. When she opened them, the sky-blue irises burned bright aqua against the red irritation. "He was sweet, saying no matter what came next, we'd handle it together."

I didn't need to ask if he'd used the L-word, the fear in her eyes confirmed it. "So, I freaked out, broke up with him, and got the fuck out of there."

My heart clenched at the panic shaking her voice, and my trembling fingers handed her a napkin. "Oh."

"I'm such an idiot." Her lower lip trembled, and she wiped her eyes. "I broke my own rules and the universe fucked me over for it."

"Harper..."

I didn't understand her disassociated dating rules, like 'don't stay over' or 'don't fall for him '-type stipulations—correction, the rules made sense, but she'd broken so many with Ryan. Her mom's leaving had convinced her that everyone who loved her would disappoint her eventually, so she abandoned them before giving anyone a chance. Including Ryan, who she'd looked nothing but happy with. While not her fault, her views on feelings were so warped, and she didn't consider his feelings.

"You have the right idea," she confessed and sniffled. "No sex. It messes everything up."

Her words were a punch in my stomach. After last night with Logan, I only felt closer to him. This was her pain talking, not her, but already her stubbornness was rising.

There wasn't anything I could say, other than, "I'm sorry."

"He's been texting and calling all morning." She moaned and leaned back into the sofa. "But I can't respond. I can't."

Her 'can't' sounded like a won't, but I reclined and kept eye contact. "How are you?"

"Scared shitless." She slumped forward and covered her face with her hands.

I bit my lip. "I...think there's a pill you can take, just in case."

When she lowered her hands, her eyes squinted like I'd surprised her. "Yeah, the morning-after pill. How do you know about it?"

"Jake mentioned a... backup. And you're eighteen, so no one has to know. Even your dad."

"I should at least get checked out." Her defeated, meek voice was so unfamiliar, and an unnecessary plea filled her eyes. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course." I nodded and pulled out my phone. "We'll go now if you want."

"Fuck me sideways," she muttered. "Let's go."

***

Harper was silent from the moment we parked outside Santa Cruz's women's clinic, a nondescript gray building, with two square front windows and a large red awning, located downtown. The inside looked like any doctor's office waiting room, with rows of gray leather chairs, blonde wood side tables with stacks of worn-edged magazines, a television, and beachy landscape canvas paintings hung on cream-colored walls. The reception desk area was housed behind a layer of protective glass-like at a bank.

"Should we call Ryan?" Uncertainty crept into my voice, and I bit my lip. "I can if you want."

Her head snapped towards mine, and her eyes narrowed. "No."

"Are you sure? He might—"

"Can we talk about anything else?" She grumbled her words but squeezed my hand back. "Anything, please, distract me. How was your night with Logan? You put me on Chloe-feelings mop-up duty, then snuck off before the dance ended, so spill it."

"Wait. What happened with Chloe? Jake stormed off before I could talk to him."

"He wouldn't have listened if you'd caught him." Harper wrinkled her nose. "They're too different. She's too sweet and will get her heart broken."

Had she said those actual words? This was Harper, so most likely yes, but she shook her head. "I was nice. Now, spill your tea."

"Oh." A slow smile spread across my face as my cheeks warmed. "He drove to some cliffs, and we looked at the stars."

"Stars...okaaaaay." She gave me a visual inspection. "You didn't have sex but did something more than make those fucking googly eyes at each other."

"We, I mean he..." I fumbled for the right words. How could she know? We were pretty much alone, so I asked in a low voice, "What does an orgasm feel like?"

"For me? Big sigh of relief." Her closest eye winked. "If it's been a while, I get all riled up and on edge like an addict jonesing for a fix. But, after sex, I'm completely mellowed out. Total drainage, literally and figuratively."

"Not the after-effects," I said slowly, my cheeks burning. "Like, during one?"

"A lot of warmth, sped up breath, tight coiling inside my lady bits as everything tenses, hot, aching, throbbing like I'm physically desperate for something, then a rush of wetness like I've peed myself. It's... addictive."

Every detail resonated, flaming my face as if I'd dunked it in hot sauce. "Umm, Logan gave me my first one. How did you know we didn't actually have sex?"

"Your eyes are glowy but your smile is genuine." Her face fell, and she shifted her eyes away. "First time sucks, and I assumed you'd be left confused and disappointed. At least... I was."

"Oh." What else could I say? "I'm sorry."

"It was over before I knew what was happening. Showed me the real side of that selfish asshole." She waved off the memory. Whoever he was, she'd never told me, ever. "But it gets better. Then you'll be just as addicted as me."

"I think you're in a class by yourself." Or, a class of two. The only other person I know who was as obsessed about sex was Jake.

"Not that it's any of his fucking business, but Jake will shit a brick when you are ready. I've already got my popcorn bowl ready for that shitshow, but I like Adonis' chances. He's got that dopey-in-loveness oblivion working in his favor."

I rolled my eyes. "No one's fighting anyone. Jake needs to get his anger under control. I don't know what's gotten into him, but I'm worried."

"He's a hot-headed, asshole bully," she whispered. "You love him and see the world through fucking rose-colored glasses, but you should take those off. The guy is an asshole, trust me. Everyone at school thinks so."

Everyone? My eyes widened at the bitterness in her voice.

"Seriously, all ten fingers and fuck, even my toes, are full if I count the number of guys he's beaten up for wanting to ask you out. All while the fucking hypocrite tosses girls out like the next morning's trash."

What? "Harper—"

"Change of subject, please." She shoved her phone under my nose. "Did you see this?"

'This' was a video on Camille's blog. Taken at Homecoming, Logan's head—easily recognizable by how freaking tall he was—bobbed through the crowd. He dragged me onto the dance floor, moving and twirling me around. Our heads tipped back, and we laughed.

I cringed at my head at his armpit height. "Is this how we look together?"

"Sickeningly adorable? Yes."

Stares and whispers framed a backdrop around us. Most of the comments were polite, but the ones that weren't still couldn't believe we were together.

Having seen enough, I pushed her phone away. "I wish people would just stop."

She gave me a tired look. "Do you know how many times I was asked about you? I've been type-cast as the best friend of the quarterback triangle scandal girl. I was ready to spike my own punch."

"Ha." I gave a humorless laugh.

"I'm serious. The number of people who think your boyfriend is some fucking Greek God, sex on legs, and all the other shit I have to bleach out of my brain is unreal."

Despite her dramatics, I smiled. "I'm not sharing that with him."

She extended her long legs and crossed her arms, creasing her cleavage as she squeezed in her elbows. "I'm happy for you," she murmured.

"What?"

"Your face." A wistful appreciation glinted in her eyes. "Even just standing next to him."

A softness I'd never heard covered her voice, and my cheeks warmed. What was wrong with my face?

"You're happier than I've ever seen you," her voice turned husky and tears glimmered in her eyes. "Girlfriend status looks good on you."

This was a compliment, right? "Thanks... I think?"

"He calls you Ellie..." she said and took her phone.

I nodded. "Because Jake did. It doesn't bother me." I didn't explain why only he and our parents called me Ellie since changing my nickname was her idea, but did that bother Jake?

My boyfriend could call me whatever I wanted, but Ellie versus Elle was more than one inserted letter. It was distance from Ryder's rumors.

A shudder crept across my shoulders. Not only had he stripped my identity, he'd taken my dignity. So, I turned my back against the school that turned away from me. Before Logan, only my parents and Jake could call me Ellie.

"Does he know why you have two nicknames?"

"Yeah," I confessed. "He found out about Ryder before we started dating."

And he never saw the broken side of me as negative or judged me, treated me like I was broken, or chastised me. Just hearing Ryder's name made him angry, but it never reflected in how he treated me.

I kept the admission to myself. The issue was mine to deal with.

"You said his name." Her sky-blue eyes looked straight into me. I must have worn a confused look, since she quickly added, "No hesitation or emotion behind it. That's good."

"I'm getting there. With help."

A tremendous amount came from Mary's House. The anonymity at meetings created an environment ripe for free expression. I'd never told my parents what had happened. Given their overreactions, for my sake, I'd prefer they never found out.

Thanks to my support group, I hadn't had a single nightmare in the past seven weeks. Still attending Monday's meetings twice a month, I offered the same support that had blessed my life.

"So...Can I call you Ellie again?"

Harper's question snapped me back, and I smiled at the longing in her voice. "I'd like that."

"Adonis is good for you." Her smirk disappeared quicker than it'd appeared. "But I still reserve the right to chop his balls off and make sure he never finds them again if he ever hurts you."

"I wouldn't expect any less." We needed a change of topic, but thankfully, a nurse appeared at the door, holding a clipboard and looking at us.

"Miss Reynolds?" she called.

"Do you want me to come with you?" I stood, but she shook her head.

"I'll be okay," she mumbled. "Eighteen. Big girl pants time."

I plopped down and studied the nearest magazine pile. Celebrity gossip, local businesses, fall cleaning, women's health, food... Food it was.

The words on a recipe page blurred no matter how often I read them. While Harper only spoke insults about Jake, her cryptic admissions were confusing. My buzzing phone didn't answer, but I smiled at the greeting.

Logan: Hi you. 🥶

He must have finished his training session, but why did the boy think texting me while sitting in an ice bath was a good idea? One of these times, he'd drop his phone in the water, but like every time, I smiled.

Me: Hi.

Logan: At the risk of being a giant simp, I woke up thinking about you baby.

I couldn't resist.

Me: 🐔?

Logan: You did not just send me a chicken emoji.

Logan: My thoughts weren't that dirty, although now they are.

I smirked at my phone.

Me: Matches your truck. I got an earful from Mom when she helped me clean my dress.

Among other things. Telling Logan about her opinions, which I disagreed with, would only piss off both of us.

Logan: Sorry, I'll clean it today.

Logan: Do you want to come next Saturday and meet Mase? I know you work and it's Homecoming, so I get it if you're busy.

I'd already taken the day off work, so there was no hesitation in my answer.

Me: of course.

Logan: About this meal plan conspiracy. Are you trying to poison me?

Me: What conspiracy?

Logan: rival QB conspiracy

I bit my lower lip, suppressing a laugh. "Guess I should come clean."

Me: You got me. I'm secretly working with Jake, plotting your eminent demise in the state championship game, one organic smoothie at a time.

Logan: Knew it.

Logan: Guess you'll have to be punished.

Punished? I blinked at this silly boy's teasing.

Me: Attending your Homecoming Dance is punishment enough.

Logan: Fair point.

Logan: What are you doing today? Can I see you?

I sighed and looked at the door Harper disappeared behind.

Me: Something came up with Harper. It's bad, will explain later.

Logan. Sorry. Hope she's OK.

Me: Me too.

Logan: See you Tuesday?

"Aww." This boy was so considerate. Not only had he remembered that my next Mary's House meeting was tomorrow but also indirectly forfeited his time with me today if my best friend needed me.

Me: You'd better. Call you later?

Logan: You'd better.

"Smartass." My smile remained as I looked down at my background photo. We stood on the sidelines, him in uniform and me swallowed up by his coat in a blurry night-game picture. Goosebumps pricked the skin on my neck as I remembered his hands squeezing my waist, guiding and moving me against him, and a heated frustration flickered inside me.

Nevercould I ever have imagined the effect he had on me. Not just the big goofysmiles whenever I thought about him, which was a lot. I wanted to spend everyminute I could with him. If I wasn't with him, some weird piece of me wasmissing, like an incomplete puzzle. Being at different schools challenged our relationship, but we made the best of our reality.

A few not-read magazines later, a visibly relaxed Harper rejoined me. "No reason to worry," she whispered. "Thanks for being here."

Her low admission carried an unnecessary shame. She'd had too much judgment and abandonment in her life, and this experience had already punished her enough. Her cheeks and lips were pale, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Miss Reynolds?" The desk attendant waved her over and passed a clipboard beneath the glass. "One more release form, plus I have your discharge instructions."

"I'll get it." I patted Harper's shoulder, who sniffed and wiped her nose.

I picked up the clipboard and returned the receptionist's smile. Turning, my eyes caught sight of a gigantic fish bowl of condoms on the desk. How could one of them could break? Jake told me horror stories of girls poking holes in them to become a baby mama, but I thought he was joking.

On the other hand, the image of my brother rolling on one could keep me celibate until marriage.

"Would you like some?" the receptionist asked in a tone that suggested they were instead free candies or those horrible bank suckers.

"Oh. No, my boyfriend and I aren't, umm..." My cheeks flushed warm as my words garbled in my throat. "We don't—"

"It's okay, you know." Her smile widened. "No judgment."

"Thanks for...not judging." My cheeks hot, I returned to Harper and handed her the form.

When I returned it, the receptionist shoved a giant sealed white plastic bag under the glass at me. "Don't look inside, just take."

"Umm, thanks." I smiled weakly and accepted it. Whatever was inside made it bulky and bounce against my leg, but my gaze focused on Harper. Slumping her shoulders, the life had been sucked out of her. How could I help? "Are you ready to go?"

"Not yet," she whispered, inhaling as if gathering more than oxygen in her lungs. "I'm so sorry for this."

Closing her eyes, tears slid over her cheeks. The sight of them gutted me.

"No, don't be sorry." I wrapped her up in a hug. She shook with a sob, dampening my shoulder with more tears. Tears rose in my eyes as I rubbed her back. "Can I take you anywhere? Coffee, ice cream?"

"No."

The finality of her situation was sinking in, but she couldn't take the next steps, so I sat with her and waited. Ten minutes later, her expression was vacant, and her eyes unblinking. She was lost in her thoughts instead of her usual spewing them without a filter.

My chest was so tight, it might explode. "Harper? Why don't you come over? Spend the night. I'll stop by your house, and get an overnight bag and your school stuff for tomorrow."

Her dry lips parted, but before she protested, I added some incentives, "You can go straight to my room, Mom and I will make you whatever you want for lunch and dinner, and I'll make sure Jake leaves us alone. He's got film study, so he's not even home. We can watch movies, over and over, as many times as you'd like. And I'll only nag you a little about doing homework."

"Jake's not home."

Of everything I said, that's what she focused on. "Jake's not hope."

Once she nodded, I tugged her hand until she stood and helped guide her outside. Her body stiffened under the clinic's exterior awning.

"First step is the hardest," I whispered. "It'll get easier."

Frowning, she didn't believe me. Since I couldn't fully relate, and she wasn't speaking, I just squeezed poor Harper's shoulder and steered her to the car.