When I walk into my house an hour and a half later, I hear my mom laughing in the kitchen with Ian. Usually the sound of them hanging out together thrills me, but tonight it just adds to my already sour mood. I toss my keys in the bowl and walk into the kitchen to see my mom standing over what looks like a batch of burnt cookies.

My mom wipes at her eyes as she sees me and says, "Hello, Summer. Ian and I made some cookies. Do you want one?"

I shake my head. "No thanks. I'm actually going to go upstairs. Had a rough night, and I just want to go to bed." And think about the conversation I know I need to have with Baker. The one I wanted to have tonight before he stood me up at the pizza parlor.

"Everything okay, sweetie?" my mom asks, her watery eyes filling with concern.

"Yeah, just... just want to forget about today," I reply, knowing I sound a bit grumpy. "Goodnight. Love you, mom. Night, Ian."

Ian's smile falters a bit as he says, "Wait. Where's Baker? Isn't he with you?"

My chest grows tight as I shake my head. "No. He's not. I don't know where he is. He was supposed to meet me tonight after the game, but just... didn't." I try to hide how frustrated and hurt I am about this, but I know I'm not doing a very good job.

"But... have you heard from him?" Ian asks nervously. "Is he okay?"

I freeze on my way out of the kitchen, my blood running cold. I hadn't even thought about that. That Baker might not be okay. That there might be a reason why he didn't show up tonight that has nothing to do with the weird interaction we had after the game. "I... I haven't heard from him actually."

Ian's smile washes away completely as he stands up to his full height and pulls his phone out of his pocket. "I'm going to text him." His fingers move quickly across his screen as he formulates a message to his older brother while I stand in the doorway staring at him. He hits send and then stares at his phone, waiting for his brother to respond. "Come on," he whispers under his breath, his eyes now filled to the brim with concern. "Come on."

My mom puts a gentle arm across Ian's shoulders. "It's okay, sweetie," she says softly as she pulls him closer to her in a one armed hug. "I'm sure everything is fine." Then she looks up at me and meets my gaze, telling me the same thing with her eyes. It's going to be okay. That he's fine. That there's a reason Baker didn't show up. That there's a reason he's not here now.

Ian's phone buzzes, and relief floods his features as his eyes skim the message. "Okay," he says as he breathes out a sigh. "He's fine. He's on his way here to pick me up."

My own relief hits me like a tidal wave, but it's quickly replaced by feelings of hurt and anger. If he's okay, then where was he tonight? Why did he say he was going to be at the pizza parlor when he wasn't? Why did he stand me up? Ian and my mom go back to the cookies like nothing happened, but I can't get over it. Like those burnt cookies, my relief is singed with fury.

Ten minutes later Ian's phone buzzes again. "Oh, Baker's here. I gotta go, Ashley."

My mom smiles and nods her head. "Okay, sweetie." She pulls him into a hug. "See you tomorrow, right?"

He hugs her back as he nods his head. "Right." Then he pulls away and starts walking toward the door. "Bye, Summer!"

"Actually, I'm going to walk out with you," I say, standing up from the kitchen table where I've been deep in thought almost since I got home. "Be right back, mom."

"Okay," my mom replies, and Ian and I walk out of the house, through the living room, and out the front door together. Baker's car is in the driveway, but it's too dark for me to see him right now. Ian runs over and hops in the passenger seat, and for a second I think Baker is going to pull out without saying a word to me. But he doesn't. Instead, I see him lean over to Ian, saying something before he slides out of his car and walks toward me. He's changed out of his football uniform and is now dressed in a black hoodie with the hood up and a pair of thick jeans.

I fold my arms across my chest as I stand off to the side of the driveway, waiting for him to come to me. But he stops halfway up, standing outside the light so that I can't actually see him. My frustration building, I walk over to him, meeting him halfway. We stand a foot apart from each other, but we don't speak. I don't know what to say, but I don't think I have to say anything. He knows.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat before continuing. "I didn't mean to stand you up tonight. I went home and fell asleep and—"

"Why don't you want me to come to your house?" I ask him, cutting him off so I can get to the point. He falls silent, and I squeeze my elbows with my hands. "I said I would come over and wait for you to get out of the shower, and you—"

"I know," he interrupts, catching me off guard. "I'm sorry." My eyes turn to slits as he sucks in a breath and says, "Listen, the truth is that I didn't want to go out tonight, okay? I didn't want to do anything. I was tired, and I wanted to just go home."

The anger I've been feeling is immediately replaced by hurt. "Oh. I... I didn't know. I'm sorry. You could've told me."

"Could I though?" he asks, and I wince.

"Yes," I reply, my throat getting tight. "You... you could've." I swallow hard, ignoring the stinging in my eyes. "I'm sorry you're tired. I guess... I probably haven't been all that respectful of you and your needs. Keeping you up all night talking. I just... I thought you liked it." He doesn't say anything as I fight the lump in my throat. I don't know what else to say. How do I fix this? Can I fix this?

The car horn sounds, startling us both as we turn our heads in the direction of Baker's car, where Ian is sitting in the passenger seat, his hand pressed against the horn. Baker sighs and holds up a finger, a nonverbal signal that he needs just another minute. Then he turns back around to face me. "I'm going home. I'll talk to you later."

I nod my head. And stupidly, I open my arms for him, as if expecting him to lean in for a kiss. But he doesn't. He just turns around and runs down the path to his car, leaving me hanging for the second time tonight. Without another word, he slides back into the car and pulls out of the driveway. I wait until he turns off my street to shed my first tear, and then I cry all the way up the stairs, feeling my heart crack just a little bit as I collapse onto my bed and bury my face in my pillow.

Thank goodness it's the weekend, because I can hardly sleep. Usually when I can't sleep I call Baker. There's something about his voice that lulls me into dreamland. But I don't want to call him tonight. I can't. Not after what he said. Or, rather, what he didn't say. I genuinely thought he liked talking to me, but I see that I was wrong. And I was being selfish, asking him to stay up all night with me. I think about all the times he fell asleep next to me at the park, and guilt begins to form in the pit of my stomach. I'm so embarrassed and ashamed.

It's about four in the morning when my phone buzzes with a notification. Rubbing my eyes, I reach for it on my nightstand and see a text from Baker Scott. My heart cracks a little more. "Are you awake?" he asks. But I don't respond. Instead, I place my phone back on my nightstand and roll away from it. It buzzes again, and I sigh as I check the second message. "Summer, I know you're awake. I saw the read receipt. Talk?"

My plan is to ignore that message too, but a few moments later my phone starts to ring in my hand, startling me. Without thinking, I press the answer button and hold it up against my ear. "Hello?" I ask in a voice that sounds sleepy but is more tearful.

"Hey," he says softly, and I wince.

"Hi," I reply, fighting the urge to sniffle so he doesn't know I've been crying.

The line is silent for a moment, and I start to think maybe the call dropped. But then I hear him breathe on the other end before saying, "Summer, I'm sorry."

The tears well up again. "About what?" I ask, because I'm the one who should be sorry, not him.

He sighs again. "For standing you up tonight. For acting like a jerk at your house when I picked up Ian. I was in the wrong, and I'm sorry."

I shake my head, holding the phone closer to my ear. "No, I'm sorry," I say thickly. "You were right. This has to stop. I have to stop."

"Stop what?" he asks, confused.

"This," I reply. "Talking to you in the middle of the night. Calling you just so I can fall asleep listening to your voice. I need to stop. I'm keeping you awake, and it's not right."

"Oh God," he says with a gasp. "Summer, is that what you think?" I don't say anything, and he groans into the phone. "No, that's not what I was saying at all. What happened earlier... I was tired. But I had a horrible headache. Got hit in the head during the game, and I think it rattled me a little. So I was a bit out of it. When I got home... I just sort of... passed out. And when I came to, it took me a while before I felt like I could drive safely."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" I ask as my tight chest loosens a bit. "I could've brought Ian home."

"Because I intended to be at the pizza place with you," he replies. "I thought I was only going to be half an hour. That was my plan. But then... well...." He trails off, because I know what happened next.

"So... it wasn't me?" I ask nervously. "I mean, you don't want to stop talking to me like this?"

"God no," he answers, and my lips turn up slightly. "Summer, this is the best part of my day. Hearing your voice before you fall asleep. It's so different than your normal voice. So much more... intimate." I blush as a smile begins to take shape on my face. "Tonight had nothing to do with that. I swear."

"Okay," I say, still a little unsure. "But just... if it starts to get to be too much, just tell me. I can stop."

He chuckles softly into the phone. "You are never too much, Lumen. You're always just right."

His words awaken the butterflies in my stomach. "Good." I pause for a second, wondering what I should say next.

"Can I talk to you until you fall asleep?" he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Please," I reply, and we talk for another hour about the game. He tells me all about how a fight almost broke out between two of his teammates over a girl they've both been sleeping with, and how for a second he thought it was actually going to come to blows. The coach put an end to it and benched them both. They thought that would mean the end of the game, but the second string players who were pulled in actually ended up being better than the two who were benched. He's pretty sure the coach is going to bump them up to first string for the next game.

By the time he finishes telling me about what happened during the game, I'm halfway asleep. Too tired to talk about anything else, he starts asking me chemistry questions until I finally drift off. When I wake up several hours later, I see my phone is dead on my stomach and remember what happened the night before. I stretch my arms up over my head and put my phone on the charger before grabbing some clothes and getting ready to hop in the shower.

It's not until I'm washing my hair that I realize I never asked him about meeting his dad. But by the time I'm getting ready to step out of the shower, I decide to let it go. Beth's right. Maybe he's not ready for that step. And he hasn't been pushing me on things I'm not ready for, so I think I can show him the same respect. I'm sure I'll get to meet his dad someday. When he's ready to make that jump with me.

Author's Note:

What do you all think of this chapter? I can't wait to read your comments. I'm actually falling asleep as I'm writing this note, so I think I'm going to head to bed. But I'll post another chapter here very soon. Stay safe and healthy until then, my dears!
XOXO,
~Aly