Liah, dressed in her gym clothes and four-inch stilettos, strutted across the stage with her script in her hand. She wanted to break in the heels before opening night. I wasn't entirely sure what the winter musical was about. All I knew was a student wrote it and Liah complained about the constant rewrites. The sets were done, but I hung around to support my best friend.

I sat at the back of our school's auditorium. Liah was on stage talking to Erik Sutton, who played a jerk in the play, but was actually really sweet in real life. From the scenes I watched being rehearsed that day, I gathered a bit of the story.

Liah's character, Angelica, is going through a lot of changes--her best friend stole her boyfriend, her other friends talk about her behind her back, and she might not be graduating high school. During the party scene, Angelica sings about the skewed perception people have of her. The song ends with Angelica, wiping tears from her face and smiling for a selfie.

The director/writer was giving Liah and Erik feedback when someone took the seat next to me. It was Corey, smelling like sawdust. He looked exhausted.

"If Reese keeps changing the script, he's gonna have to make his own sets."

We were friends now, but it was still so weird to be having a casual conversation with him. "What'd you have to do today?"

"We had to build a balcony. We have one from another play, but the stairs needed to be reinforced and I told him that, but he ignored me, using them anyway. Long story short--"

"Too late for that," I muttered. Even though I didn't mind listening to him talk about his work. He was passionate about building things. Even now, as he complained about the balcony, his eyes told another story.

He gave me a look and I smiled innocently. "We had to make a new one." He pulled a small bag of pretzels from his pocket, offering me one.

I took one, then stared him in the eye. "If my friend breaks her neck on that thing, I'll kill you dead."

"Of course."

We munched on his pretzels and watched as Erik's character kept flirting with Liah's character, even after she said no multiple times. Then there was a choreographed dance and more singing, which I think represented the downward spiral of Liah's character.

"Trent and Veena are back together." Corey said after a while.

"They are?" After our "date", I hadn't had the chance to ask Trent about how it went. Liah couldn't believe I spent an entire afternoon getting my date back together with his ex. But knowing I had a hand in their love story was the best feeling.

Corey's brow quirked up. "Didn't you go on a date with him?"

I shrugged. "He wasn't meant for me. Maybe I should be a matchmaker. You know, like the whole 'if you can't do, teach' thing?"

He stared at me for so long, I wondered if I had pretzel crumbs on my face. "What?"

"One bad date and you're giving up on your 'epic love story'?"

I folded my arms, sinking lower into the theater seat. "I'm not giving up. I'm lowering my expectations to a more realistic level. Not epic. Just a love story. Or an I-guess-you're-tolerable story."

That last part was a joke, but Corey didn't find it funny.

"You shouldn't have to settle for less." His gaze was a little intense, like he wasn't just saying it to be encouraging. It was like he saw through the BS of my words. I hated it.

"I read romance. My standards are impossibly high."

"What about Mav?"

I'd almost forgotten about Maverick. My third and final date. The thought of having another date blow up in my face made my stomach churn. Technically, I only went on one date, but I was exhausted. Failure was exhausting. I didn't have it in me to go another round.

Then I got a text message. From my brother. Did Trent really get back with V?

Was he gloating? It was like the Grayson from a few days ago was dead and gone. The brother I grew up with was replaced with whoever this was. I shoved my phone back into my purse. "Do you know where I can find Maverick?"

Corey glanced between me and my purse. "Yeah. He's throwing a party after his game on Friday."

"Perfect."

• • •

When Friday rolled around, Maverick and I had been messaging back and forth a lot. I messaged him on Instagram after he posted a selfie he took during lunch. Behind him, in the distance, was me, shoving pizza into my mouth. It was an excellent conversation starter.

It started with, You could've waited for me to close my mouth first and turned into a game of him catching me in the background of his selfies and posting them. I'm sure our classmates thought he was getting conceited.

He was cool. He played water polo, which I didn't know was a sport at our school. He sounded very offended when I referred to it as water volleyball. Also, he looked really good in his blue and gold speedo and that funny little hat thing I saw in pictures.

Corey's reason for adding him to the list was that he liked adventure type video games, like me. I didn't realize Corey even knew that about me. Maverick was also into, as Corey phrased it, "weird white people music". I had noticed a few of Maverick's captions on Instagram were from Twenty One Pilots' songs.

Liah kept him on the list because she once saw him help an elderly woman across the street. Like, he literally got out of his car to help her along, despite the people honking at him.

Now, as I shaved my legs with one foot up on the bathroom sink, I switched between texting him my favorite soda (so he could have it stocked at the party) and Liah, who was dead set on staying home to study. She missed one question on a test and had to do a whole refresher course.

Don't make me go to this party alooooone, I messaged.

If you show up to that party and you're the only one there RUN, she replied.

LIAAAAAH :'(

I <3 U but not as much as getting valedictorian

Ask Corey

I'd done that already. Well, I didn't ask him to come with me. I asked if he was going to the party. He's workinggggg

Stop whining

Love you <3

When she spammed me with heart emojis, I knew that meant "leave me alone now".

After finishing up my legs, I put on my favorite jeans. I didn't have much of a booty, but those jeans created the illusion of one. Mom let me borrow the car again. She was out with Hudson for a date night. Both my mom and me out on dates? Grayson was probably somewhere losing his mind. I triple checked that I had everything I needed before heading out, blasting Twenty One Pilots as I drove.

• • •

Maverick lived in a small three-bedroom house, and it was absolutely packed. The furniture had been pushed against the wall to make room for people in the living room and family room. The kitchen counters were full of snacks and drinks (both soda and alcohol). I smiled when I saw the box of orange soda.

As I grabbed a can, my phone buzzed. It was a photo message from Maverick. He took another selfie with me in the background, my hand in the box of orange sodas. These jeans really did made my butt look amazing, by the way.

I turned, finding him grinning behind me. I grinned back. "Stalker."

"Only a little."

"And that's acceptable?"

"For sure." He wet his lips, his dimple popping.

My cheeks warmed and I turned to my soda. "Got any ice?"

Maverick got two plastic cups and a soda for himself, and led me through the throng of people. He gave me a mini tour of his place. Telling me about his two older siblings, and what his parents did for work--Dad's a truck driver, Mom's a nurse.

The garage had been converted into another living space. There was a flat screen on the wall. A group of people played NBA on the PlayStation. Some of them stared at me. I didn't know if it was because of my jeans or because I was Gray's sister. Maybe they were curious because I didn't usually go to parties.

A thick cloud of weed smoke hung in the air. I tried not to look like I was holding my breath as he got ice from a second refrigerator. Why would you need two refrigerators? We went through a side door that led to the backyard. I was grateful for the fresh air and hoped I didn't smell like weed when I got home later. Mom would murder me. Then Gray would revive me, only to murder me again.

Maverick had a pool in his backyard. People sat around the edge of smoking blunts and e-cigarettes. The only thing floating in the water were plastic cups.

Maverick and I sat on a wicker love seat, our knees touching, arms brushing every time one of us moved to take a drink. It was cold out, but being this close, it was like we were in our own little cocoon of warmth.

"Is your brother as bad as people say?" He asked, taking a sip of his soda. With all the alcohol around, I was surprised he took it straight.

So far, we'd mostly talked about him, which I was fine with because he was a lot more interesting. Now the attention was on my least favorite topic at the moment: my brother.

I paused. Was this it? The moment where he realized I wasn't worth a possible beat down? "It's hard to see someone you took baths with as a threat."

He laughed and I felt proud of myself for getting him to do it. I was also happy that he knew who my brother was and didn't run for the hills. "So, if he saw us right now, he wouldn't choke me out?"

"No." I took a swig from my cup. "He'd get in your face and threaten to choke you out. Most guys don't stick around long enough to realize it's an empty threat."

He looked at me pointedly. "How do you know it's an empty threat if none have stuck around to find out?"

"Have you ever seen Gray in a fight?"

He frowned, thinking about it. "Shit. I haven't."

"People are intimidated by his size," I said. "He's the least intimidating person I know."

He shifted, turning to me fully and propping his elbow on the back of the couch. "Then why'd you let him scare guys away?"

"I guess I was waiting for someone to fight for me." I'd never said it out loud before. but it was true. There was always the hope that someone would stand up to my brother. I didn't intend on being that honest with Maverick. Especially not on the first date. I downed my soda, hoping it'd wash the embarrassment away. "Anyway, how'd you get into water polo--"

"Can I kiss you?"

Had I been daydreaming about that exact moment since I stalked his Instagram account? Yes. Had I gone through several lip glosses to find the best tasting one just in case kissing came up? Also yes. Was I at all prepared for him asking me if he could make my daydreams a reality? Absolutely not.

"Mav!" An older guy with shoulder length braids wearing sunglasses (even though it was dark) came over, slapping hands with Maverick. Whoever he was, I hated him, but was also kind of glad he interrupted.

Maverick glanced at me. "I'll be right back."

I nodded. Then he kissed my cheek. The stubble on his lip tickled my face, turning my stomach to goo. Every inch of me was on fire as I watched him walk away.

Oh my God. This was really happening. Maverick Booker might actually be boyfriend material. The thought both terrified and excited me. All those terrible encounters were finally paying off.

I was leaving this party with a boyfriend.