Tuesday morning I decided not to waste any time getting the ding in my car fixed, so I took it down to the body shop first thing and asked Gabby to follow me so that I'd have a ride to school.

"What's the damage, Harry?"

Harry was a sweet old guy I'd worked for a few summers ago doing odd jobs like cleaning and sweeping for a little extra cash, before I started working at the diner.

"Well, darling," he said as he adjusted the oil-stained cap on his head while he examined the dented bumper, "I'll do it for four hundred and fifty. That's as cheap as I can go."

It was a very good deal. The repair would have cost anywhere up to a grand at any other shop. Once I paid Harry, I was left with an extra hundred, and contemplated getting myself a new outfit. But I immediately squashed the idea, knowing that I'd give the money back to Drayton.

"Thank you, Harry. You're a lifesaver!"

"You can have her back by Thursday." He patted the top of the car before signaling Tony, one of the young panel beaters, to fetch the keys and move it inside.

"Thanks, Harry!" I called as I ran across the road to Gabby's waiting car.

"Have you still not fixed the air conditioning in this thing?" I waved my hand in front of my face, gasping for some cold air as Gabby sat in the driver's seat taking selfies. "Nothing Breaks Like a Heart" by Miley Cyrus and Mark Ronson crackled through the small speakers.

The air conditioning in Gabby's little Mazda hatchback had carked it at the beginning of the summer. Even now, toward the end of the season, the need for fresh air was high. The windows were rolled down, but the breeze was just as warm, so it really didn't help at all.

"I remember why we used my car all summer now," I groaned, wiping at the sweat beads on my forehead. I gripped the front of my T-shirt and fanned it in and out.

"You think you have problems with the heat?" She pointed at her thick head of curls tied into a bun. "You know what heat does to this Afro? It gets so damn big that it needs its own area code. I have six different products going on in this situation."

I giggled. "Yeah, you migh—"

"Ahh!" Gabby cut me off with an excited squeal as she clutched the steering wheel and bounced in her seat. "I just remembered! Tell me about last night. Like, everything."

"I already have."

"No, no, no! Last night you said it was 'uneventful.' I refuse to believe that having Drayton Lahey over for dinner could possibly be uneventful."

"Honestly, he and Nathan talked about football all night. He helped me with the dishes, and then he left. He did tell me that he isn't really in a relationship with Emily."

I left out the part about his not-so-subtle flirting. I didn't need a headache right before school.

"Oh." Her brows moved up and down suggestively as she pulled into a parking space. "He made it clear that he's available, did he?"

"It's not that deep, Gabs. There was nothing to it."

We hopped out of the car and met at the tail end while she sighed with a dreamy expression. My best friend might have been overexcited and reading into things that weren't there, but I adored her enthusiasm for love.

"I can't believe you spent the evening with Drayton Lahey."

"Please don't idolize him." We linked arms and started toward the brick building. "He's a football player. He can't heal with his hands."

"I bet he can do something else with his hands, though." She nudged me and her full lips curled into a devious grin.

"I walked into that one," I groaned.

***

Drayton and I didn't have economics that day, so I figured that I'd wait until practice during the second half of lunch to give back his leftover cash. I sat with Gabby in the cafeteria while we ate sandwiches and she caught me up on the latest gossip. She might not talk, but she did listen and she loved it—loved high school and the dynamics and the groups and the drama. But it was all loved from afar, and she didn't immerse herself in the center of its politics. Her findings were shared with me, though, and I smiled, nodded, and responded when signaled. It didn't interest me all that much, but I humored her. Gabby was in the middle of recounting Dave Lowinski's coming-out party when I interrupted her and stood up. "I have cheer practice. Want to come and watch?"

She shook her head and waved her half-eaten sandwich. More talking meant less eating. "I'm heading to the library. See you in English?"

"Sounds good." Gabby loved the library and books. It was where all the fuel for her romantic fantasies came from, and she had a solid group of friends she sat with and read.

Yesterday was more attention than I needed from our captain, so I had my uniform for practice, to avoid Emily breathing down my neck. Once I changed, I jogged out to the field and lined up with the rest of the team who were, surprisingly, dressed in casual activewear.

"Why are you in uniform, Dallas?" Emily sneered, earning a few snickers from the lineup. "This is practice."

I supposed I could have argued, stomped my feet, pointed out what a sadistic and horrible bitch she was for going out of her way to humiliate me, and we were only on the second day in. Instead, I took the high road, pulling my skirt and cheer top off so I was down to my boy shorts and sports bra.

"Better?" I smiled and tossed the uniform toward my bag on the bleachers behind us.

Emily responded by barking orders for the warm-up. After twenty minutes of nonstop intensity, she finally gave us a break. Guzzling back my water, I spotted Drayton in the middle of the field, talking to a few of his friends. His black T-shirt clung to his torso and once again I found myself admiring every inch of his incredible build.

"Dray!" I called. "Hey," I said when I caught up with him, which felt awkward, but I wasn't entirely sure why. It became even more awkward when he didn't respond. His stare was blank.

"It didn't cost as much as you thought it would." I left the explanation brief so that his friends didn't find out that he'd hit my car. I assumed that's what had him so nervous. Boys and their pride. "Here's the rest of that cash."

He looked at the money but didn't move to take it as his eyes darted from the bill in my hand toward his curious buddies and back again.

"Keep it for the next batch." He grinned arrogantly, just as full of himself than ever. "It's good green, right?"

The group of brain-dead half-wits gasped, widening their eyes as they looked me up and down. Scandalous thoughts of the cheerleader on drugs were obviously plaguing their small minds. I stared Drayton down, willing him to change his story and trying not to dwell on the fact that he himself appeared to be involved in drugs. It wasn't mind-blowing information. A lot of the students around here indulged in the devil's lettuce.

"I had fun last night." He winked. "You guessed right, Maxon. She's flexible."

"Woah!" Maxon, one of the linebackers, gasped. "What?!"

Maxon and Austin slapped each other's backs, cackling and carrying on like idiots while my eyes stayed locked on Drayton's. I swear that I saw a pang of regret flash through his deep-green irises. It didn't last for more than a moment before his gorgeous features returned to stone cold.

"And I was right," I snapped. "You are disappointing."

I threw the cash at him and turned around. That was not the same person I had talked to last night, and it disappointed me to feel so let down. If that was how he wanted to behave, then so be it. There was no love lost, but I wanted nothing to do with someone so two-faced. As I returned to the squad, I noticed Emily watching us, a disapproving scowl on her face. Drayton wasn't worth the hassle that she would give me if she thought that I was moving in on her man.

After a long and tiring practice that I was certain was ten times more intense than usual due to the chip on Emily's shoulder, I wandered out of the girl's locker room and into the gym foyer, where Drayton was leaning against the wall on the other side of the room.

"Dallas." He started toward me but I ignored him and headed straight outside and down the concrete steps.

I didn't make it far before he caught up and planted himself in front of me. "I shouldn't have said that." He put his hands on my shoulders and gazed down at me from his full height.

"Please don't speak to me"—I shrugged him off—"ever again."

"I feel like a dick." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I told them that it wasn't true. I swear I set them straight."

"Thanks, but I still don't want to talk to you. I'm not interested in being friends with someone who can't be the same person all of the time. And I'm also not interested in getting kicked off the cheer squad by Emily."

"She wouldn't do that. She can't."

"Have you met your ex?" I shook my head and waved a sharp, dismissive hand. "Like I said, Drayton, I don't want anything to do with you. Last night was nice, and I thought there was more to you than a hollow and shallow person. But I guess not. Goodbye."

I stepped around him but he grabbed my wrist, forcing me to turn around. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Come on, what can I say or do?"

"If you don't know the answer to that"—I pulled my wrist back—"then there really is no hope for you."

I turned around and left, and didn't look back when he called. Luckily, the rest of the afternoon went on as usual. No one whispered or looked at me as if they had found out that I was a quarterback-snatching pothead. I guess Drayton had stuck to his word and squashed any gossip. Gabby didn't mention it in English, and she would no doubt have heard if it had spread. I was relieved when I slid into her hot car that afternoon.

"Hello, hello." She grinned and started the car. I immediately rolled the window down. "We were going to talk about the weekend when I called last night, but we talked about Drayton instead."

"Waste of breath that was," I mumbled. Gabby looked at me funny. "Nothing. What are we doing this weekend?"

"We're going to Cripple Creek. There's a sixteen-plus club opening. We can't drink, obvs, but there is dancing, and we can pre-game at your house."

Putting my feet on the dash, I sighed. It wouldn't be my first choice of how to spend the night. But whatever. "How are we going to get there? It's an hour and a half drive."

"Bus?"

"How about getting home? The bus doesn't run that late." "Bus there, Uber home?" Gabby said.

"That'll be an expensive Uber."

"Split the fare?"

"Sure. Sounds like a plan," I said.

Gabby was there for me when I needed her, so I was there for her too. There was no chance that her pals from the library would ever join her out and about; I'd asked them once before.

"I'll come over at around three," she said. "Remember, if my mom asks, we're spending the night working on that English assignment on the earliest libraries and their histories."

"Natch. At this point, I'm aware that I can't tell your mom what we're doing, Gabs. Relax."

Gabby lived with her mom, and she had never met her father. He and Camilla had been in a casual arrangement when Gabrielle was conceived, and he wasn't prepared to become a father at nineteen. Gabby no longer spared him a second thought—she used to wish that she had her dad around, but the older she got, the more she came to realize that she didn't need one. However, being alone meant that Camilla took on the role of both mom and dad, and she took it seriously. She was strict.

The lack of parental authority in my household meant that Nathan and I were both free to come and go as we pleased. Nathan did his best to enforce some rules, but he was often out himself, sleeping his way across Castle Rock, and he knew that I wasn't all that social.

"Let's go shopping on Saturday?" Gabby parked the car in my driveway, leaving the engine running as she bounced with excitement in her seat.

"Sure," I said. "Come over in the morning instead of three, then, okay? Then we've got enough time."

"Yes!" She clapped her hands. "I can't wait."