Josh lived across the street from the school; you could see the basketball court from his backyard, though that didn't stop him from persuading his parents into getting him his own hoop for their house. His argument was that he couldn't always practice if people were having pick-up games at the school or during the summer when the school hosted their annual daycare programs. And if he were to even stand a chance at playing for Duke one day, he needed as much practice as possible.

So, even though the school was in shouting distance, the alley behind Josh's house had always been the place Josh and Tony would hang out and play basketball.

Both were incredibly competitive with each other, which caused tensions to rise during one-on-one games. But Tony and Josh quickly grew tiresome of their feuding and would practice by just shooting around and bantering.

The topics would vary, but usually always ended up being about basketball, social drama, or lack thereof, and as always, girls. Josh wasn't what one would call a "ladies' man," but he was certainly the girlfriend type. Since the fifth grade, Josh had dated exactly two girls, both for longer periods of time than most people their age even had any kind of close-knit friendship with the opposite sex.

Of course, his first girlfriend, like all elementary school "relationships," in reality was nothing more than a harmless crush. It added up to hanging out at each other's houses and giving each other Valentine's Day cards that were slightly more personal than the generic ones handed out to the entire class.

Of course, by the time they'd reached the end of their first year of middle school, as all things do, they evolved.

With evolution comes change, and what follows is known as the paradox of choice. People's personalities permute, interests alter; it's a big world out there. As everyone experiences life, their outlook changes, and a lot of times so do the individuals they choose to bring alongside them.

This had been the case with Katie, Josh's first elementary school crush who became his first love. What started as hanging out every day after school and on the weekends became tying up the phone until two in the morning every Friday and Saturday night with nothing in particular to talk about.

Never-ending phone conversations transcended into first real dates, first school dances, first heartbreaks, and of course first kisses. All of Josh's firsts were as imperfect as they were cliché, yet blissful and momentous as they come. From their first school dance to their last kiss leading into their poetic breakup, they were young loves torn apart by uncontrollable circumstances.

Some people's fingerprints slowly fade from the lives they touch, leaving no indication they were ever really there, while others imprint their enteral mark, leaving unseen scars that forever change one's outlook and demeanor. The most dreadful cicatrices are almost always left by people with the purest intentions.

Seven days prior to the breakup, Katie had no idea that her father had just learned that he, along with his family, would be shipping off to Japan. Being a high-ranking officer doesn't always mean you get to pick where you're stationed or stop you from being transferred at a moment's notice.

With experience comes knowledge, and parenthood is accompanied by an overzealous need to protect your kid from the pain, both physical and psychological. Over the years, Katie's parents found that the best way to shield her from the growing pain of plucking her out of school and moving her to a new state, or country even, was to not tell her until the last minute. To let her enjoy her time left with friends, rather than spend her final days dreading the move and potentially fighting them on it.

In the past, this worked out brilliantly. Her mother made it into a game they would play, turning the move into an adventure in which she could get to travel to a new place and meet new people. It made the moving around not only less dreadful, but actually exciting. That was until Katie was a preteen in middle school, and no longer thought of their game as fun and exciting, but dreadful and wanted nothing to do with it or the move.

Katie found out by accident, a few days before the dance, that that night would be her last in her latest home. She heard her parents talking about it, debating on whether or not to tell her early this time, to give her a chance to say goodbye. Arguing that she was almost a teenager now, and teenage rebelliousness and resentment towards them wasn't far off; giving her a reason could only speed up the process.

Their decision meant nothing to her since she heard it beforehand. Anger and resentment didn't fill her mind; grief and love did. She knew only two things. One—she would be moving, regardless of her personal feelings, and second—her only options were to waste what little time she had left or embrace it, enjoy, and make the most of what she could.

The night of the dance, she and Josh drove in the same car, his baby blue tie matching her baby blue dress. From what the outside looking in, the night seemed perfect. Katie had every intention of telling him when she first saw him. Yet something came over her, and she lost her nerve.

Upon their arrival, it wasn't quite the dance scene most would have thought. No teachers yelling at the kids for being too close, coming around with a ruler, restating the rule of six inches apart. Quite the opposite actually—almost no one was really dancing. Just standing off to the side talking among their groups.

And then after a moment, completely out of the blue, Katie led Josh to the vacant dance floor, placing his hands on her hips before wrapping her arms around his neck.

For a split second, all eyes were on them. The world around them stopped and time froze as their peers gawked at them. Never once during that moment, did either one of them break eye contact with the other. One minute of perfection.

One minute of perfection they were given, and they didn't waste a second of it. After the minute passed and other couples began filling the dance floor, stealing the spotlight, Katie said the words he thought he'd never hear. Ones he'd hoped she would never speak.

"I think we should break up." Emotionless and without pain. Katie said it like it means nothing, yet Josh could see the pain in her eyes.

Completely in shock, he said nothing. Just stared in awe as she glared back towards him.

"I'm moving. My father got relocated again. I ship out tomorrow night."

Still speechless, Josh just stared into her eyes. "Why... where... when... when did your parents tell you?" He was barely able to speak complete sentences due to the shock of all.

"They technically haven't told me yet; I overheard them talking. I'm not sure exactly, but does it really matter?"

'Of course, it does!" Josh replied, though in his hearts of hearts he knew this not to be true. Katie saw through the lie by the defeated look in his eyes.

"You're the first boy I've ever really loved, the first boy I've ever kissed... And honestly, I thought you were going to be my first." A smile made its way out from the darkness that had formed on her face, tears running down her cheeks.

"I guess the long-distance thing is out of the question then?" Josh asked, the tone in his voice making it clear that he had already given up.

"Realistically, that isn't fair to either of us. Having to sit out on life, when these are supposed to be the best years of our lives." Katie sighed. "That's the same as asking you to wait for me."

"I would, you know," Josh said as he wiped away one of her tears.

"I know, and I don't want you to! That wouldn't be fair to either of us. Who knows if I'll ever be back, let alone when? We might end up at different colleges. We might not even end up going to college. The future holds no certainties."

"So, what are you saying?" His voice breaking, he tried his best to maintain his composure.

Katie leaned forward, her head against his. "I love you, Josh Larson, with all my heart, and I always will. You're the Humphrey Bogart to my Ingrid Bergman." She smiled through the tears as she reminisced on their first official date that happened not so long ago.

Neither of their parents was fond of the idea of them going to the movies by themselves without any adult supervision. No matter how persistent they were.

So, one day shortly thereafter, Katie's mother saw an ad in the paper for a throwback feature at the local drive-in theater. A screening of none other than Casablanca.

Her mother thought it would be a fitting first date for youths their age—an old school drive-in to see a classic love story. Her mother told her father about the showing and suggested that they both go but take separate cars. Parking next to each other allowed Katie and Josh the freedom and space they desire, all while their parents were able to keep an eye on them.

"So, there's no convincing you to change your mind?" he asked, voice cracking ever so slightly.

"I want you to remember us as us, me as me. Not some fucked up version that time and distance destroyed. Diminishing every memory we shared, and in the end causing you to loathe the very thought of me."

"I thought you never did the whole goodbye thing?" Josh said, his eyes started to fill, though no tears fell.

"I don't." Forcing a smile, she wiped at her eyes.

"Then why now? Why this time?"

"Most of the time we say our final goodbyes without even knowing it. Friendships turn into vague memories, people become ghosts of our past. You mean too much to me to just let us fade away like that."

These weren't Katie's last words to him, but they were the ones that stuck in Josh's head, words he would repeat in his mind for months to come.

For the rest of the school year, Josh was nothing more than a shadow of the person he used to be. As much as he wanted to move on, to try and meet someone new, he couldn't. He couldn't allow the memories to become just what they were—memories—and not a reminder of what could have been.

It wasn't until the next year, on his first day as a sophomore, that Josh met Chasity, the girl who shook him out of his funk. She was a beautiful distraction, one who got him out of his own head—along with Katie.

Part of saying goodbye meant not keeping in touch or staying friends on Myspace or instant messenger, allowing themselves time to move on. They agreed to not reach out to each other until their last day of senior year, a clean break until their memories of each other were nothing more than ghosts of a past life.

The thing about ghosts, however, is that they always come back to haunt you. No matter how deep you try to bury them.

"So, what's going with you and Chasity?" Tony asked as he bounced the basketball a few times before taking his shot. He made it, and Josh grabbed the ball, throwing it back to him.

"What do you mean? There's nothing going on with us," Josh said nonchalantly as if everything was perfect. He'd been hiding the fact that he hadn't spoken to her—like heard her voice—in over a week, though of course they instant messaged and emailed each other every day. Still, people didn't just not talk on the phone for over a week, especially people who were going steady.

"You've been playing like shit all day, and you've barely spoken much, which means something happened and you don't want to talk about it." The words flew out of Tony's mouth, indicating they had this conversation often.

"Well, if you know I don't want to talk about it, then why the hell are you asking me?" Josh said lightheartedly, trying to hold back his laughter and maintain his irritational exterior.

"You might have made the team, but if Coach sees you playing like complete and utter dog shit the first few days of practice, he can still cut you." As heartless as Tony might have been coming across, Josh knew it to be true, for Coach Taylor's reputation proceeded him. Losing wasn't an option. Josh stood completely transfixed and stared hopelessly at the net, holding the ball in his hand.

Coach Brandon Taylor, a father, a teacher, and Denver Nuggets' basketball player turned hometown hero, was born, and raised in Columbia, Maryland, in an upper-middle-class family. His father worked as an accountant and his mother had been an English professor at the University of Towson.

To fully understand Coach Taylor, you must understand Brandon Taylor. His father always pressed two things into Brandon from a young age—pride and excellence. No less, in anything. The best to your ability doesn't cut it; either be among the foremost or hit the trails for mediocrity.

That mindset made Brandon work harder and train sedulously. He made the varsity team his freshman year. By junior year, he was the team captain, not only taking the team to state finals but winning two years in a row. Brandon went on to university on a full scholarship, then the NBA, first draft pick. Of course, life happens, and he went on to play in the NBA for less than one season before becoming seriously injured.

A young athlete at the top of his game can recover from any such injury and play again, to some extent—though with added risk, the doctors and specialists told him. But the voice of his father, even after his death, always followed Brandon, and because of that. He allowed the fear of mediocrity to fester inside and get the better of him. Ultimately, he decided to ride out his contract on the bench and not renew.

He went on to retire as the young rookie whose career ended before it ever really began. Of course, being at the height of one's game, and having the spotlight shining bright for so long, meant that opportunities that normally wouldn't be possible presented themselves on a silver platter.

Brandon ended up becoming a scout and assistant coach for the Nuggets, a special request from their head coach who for years said he was nearing his retirement—though he never followed through with it. He always said he couldn't retire until he found someone whom he knew could replace him.

Coach Nordling possessed traits of being nothing short of arrogant and self-righteous. Putting himself up on a pedestal, he claimed he was to basketball what John Madden was to football. Finding someone to fill the unrealistic shadow that he believed he created would be nothing short of a miracle.

And then he met the Maryland miracle-maker, Brandon Taylor. While Brandon had been nothing of the sort, failing horribly on the sidelines, he did have good instincts on the court.

Though he was always a minute late and point short, Coach Nordling saw something in him that he hadn't seen in anyone since meeting his old mentor and former head coach. A drive to succeed, something all professional athletes and coaches possess.

Yet, like all the greats, there are always some who have that spark that never fails, burning longer and harder than most could imagine. One that after only a few short years made him Coach Taylor, the head coach of the Denver Nuggets.

He coached the Nuggets until unforeseen circumstances brought him back to his hometown for an extended leave. That turned into a permanent move after a wedding with an old flame, then conceiving a child .

Given the situation, Brandon made the conscientious decision to retire from coaching professional basketball, knowing it would be best for his family. Although ready to leave the big leagues, he wasn't ready to walk away from the game completely.

With the pathways laid out before him, he decided to campaign to become the head coach at his former high school, with the hopes of bringing their basketball team to their former glory. It wasn't hard considering the head coach at the time didn't know the first thing about basketball and only had the position because no one else wanted it.

Over the years his reputation preceded him, while his legacy faded into the shadows, remembered by only a select few. Basketball in Maryland wasn't quite the hype that football is in Texas.

Josh was among the few who still remembered him from his heyday, which he made very obvious during his varsity tryouts junior year. He had been the only person to bring up his legacy and the first person to fail at winning Coach Taylor's favor.

"Ass kissing won't get you far in life and it sure in hell won't get you anywhere on the court."

The coach eyed him up, taking a moment to get a good judgmental evaluation of him. He paused for a moment before asking him a question that no one, especially not an adult, ever asked him.

"What are you hoping to get out of basketball? Do you have hopes to make it to the NCAA, or are you like your buddy over there? Is your only desire to become a jock so that maybe the head cheerleader will be your prom date?"

Josh froze like a deer in headlights. He was baffled by the fact that the head coach had actually asked him that.

"Well? I don't have all day, and by the looks of it, neither do you," Coach Taylor said, giving Josh a death stare.

"Honestly, sir, I want to play for Duke, sir. That's been a dream of mine since I was in the fifth grade, ever since my uncle took me to see them play the Terps. That year for Christmas all I asked for was a basketball hoop, because I knew that if I ever stood a chance at making it there, I would need to start practicing."

Coach Taylor stared at him for a long minute. "Well, I'm sorry to say that you should have started sooner or trained harder because as of now, the only team you're guaranteed a spot in is the under fourteen rec league."

"I'm fifteen, Coach," Josh said in a rather meek manner.

Coach shook his head and took a deep breath. His comment wasn't meant as a literal statement, but a way to jokingly say the boy had heart while currently lacking the skills to make it.

"I'll tell you what, I'm going to do something I never do. I'm going to take a chance on you. You say Duke is all you've ever wanted? Well, now is your time to prove it. You're at a pathway. You have to choose which you want to take. Do you want to chase girls and drink beers at house parties? Or chase dreams and drink whey protein drinks after your six a.m. morning runs?"

"I want to chase dreams, Coach," Josh replied without even thinking, realizing what that really meant, the dedication it would really need.

"Alright. Then if you're willing to go where no one else is, I'm willing to give you a spot on this team over someone who isn't. Although don't get it twisted—even if you give it your all, give up everything for this one thing, there is still a chance you will fail."

"I'm willing, Coach."

"Okay then. Oh, and just so we're clear, just because you made it onto the team, that doesn't mean your spot is guaranteed. You can be cut at any time, and I will cut you the minute I feel like you're not giving it your all or if your all simply isn't good enough. Change is inevitable, process is optional."

Coach's pep talk stuck with him. It was something he replayed in his head almost every day, using it as motivation to push himself harder, to get up every morning and go jogging. He clung to the words, to the hope that he might actually have a chance to play at Duke. He replayed their conversation until the point that it nearly lost its potency.

Josh, motionless and still ogling deep in thought, clenched the ball. "She broke up with me." The words came out slow and mild, almost as if he were saying lines in a play and had trouble remembering them. "Are you happy now?" He shot the ball, making his first basket of the day.

"Now that you finally made a shot, I am," Tony chuckled.

"I think we're actually done this time. Like, for good," he said as Tony threw him the ball. He took another shot, once again making it as if all he needed to regain his focus was to unburden himself.

"Why? What did you do that makes you think it's for real this time?"

Chasity and Josh would fight, break up, and make up so often that breaking up became their thing. Some people yell and curse at each other when fighting with their significant other. Josh and Chasity would break up, which meant nothing more than one of them was pissed at the other. Their Myspace relationship statuses never changed.

"Did you check Myspace to see if she actually dumped you?" Tony asked curiously with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "Did she move you down to number three again?" he added, a rhetorical question meant to be nothing more than a meaningless joke. But due to the circumstances, Josh didn't take it as such.

Josh dribbled the ball slow and steady before taking his shot. "Of course I did."

It wasn't a lie. He had, and it wasn't what he saw that bothered him the most. How he felt, or the emotional strain he didn't feel, haunted his thoughts. Chasity had changed her profile name from "Chasity and Josh 4-ever" to just "Chasity." Even went as far as changing her headline to "single and ready to mingle." Sorrow overcame him, but not in the soul-crushing way he had been expecting.

"And?" Tony almost shouted out, as if awaiting a life-altering reveal.

"I think I really fucked up this time," Josh muttered.

"What the hell did you do?" Tony asked nervously.

"My parents were at work, and her friend Jade dropped her off before heading to the mall to meet some guy." Josh started the story off emotionless as if it was just schoolyard gossip.

Tony, impatient as always, raised his hands. He then went on to make an obscure hand gesture. "Here's the point, now all you have to do, is simply get to it. Who Jade's sleeping with this week is irrelevant," he said, smirking with amusement.

Josh fought a smile and shrugged off the comment.

"We were fooling around," he continued. "I was stealing second when she implies, she wants me to go to third." He struggled to allow himself to say it, and Tony stepped in again.

"Your head game is so bad, she broke up with you?" he said, covering his mouth to hold in the laughter.

"No, I told her..." The words that followed were so impudent, Josh cringed as the words were about to come out of his mouth. He could feel his stomach turn, the acid rising. He stopped. He couldn't say it, even if he knew it was all a lie.

For she had indeed come over; her friend Jade had dropped her off. Chasity and Josh were alone in his bedroom and things got heated, though Josh's version of the day's events was far from the truth.

Chasity had been one of the few girls within her clique of friends who not only hadn't gone "all the way," but was the least experienced. While the other girls shared and gossiped, she felt as if she were missing out. Especially when stories came up about the efforts and lengths guys were going through to try and get onto the field with them. The fact Josh had been the only guy who seemed uninterested in sex in general, to the point he didn't advance on her offers of something more, began making her feel insecure.

So, on that day when Jade dropped her off, she had not only been mentally prepared for a home run, she equipped herself, courtesy of her friend. A small three-pack of condoms, which even came with a rather appropriate sixty-second sex education refresher.

Safe sex practices weren't the only thing Jade had talked to Chasity about. Chasity had confided in Jade, about her dilemma, why she and Josh hadn't done anything yet. Every time they were getting closer to doing something PG-13, he would freak out and hit the brakes.

As Jade and Chasity drove in the car, headed to Josh's house, Jade decided to help Chasity with her problem. "When you guys are making out and things start to get hot and heavy, excuse yourself to the bathroom. Make sure you leave your purse near him, for easy access to the condoms; nothing ruins the moment like having to run and go get them," she said firmly, with a hint of laughter in her voice as if that had happened to her before.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Chasity asked with hesitation.

"I'm sure. Trust me. The problem is he's overthinking everything, panicking—he's thinking with the wrong head. Which is not usually a problem with guys our age... it's typically the opposite problem. Get the bag out of the backseat."

Chasity looked in the backseat, saw a bag, and pulled it up front.

"Well, open it!" Jade said excitedly.

Chasity began to open to do so, but before she could see what was inside, Jade slipped in a word edgewise. "A little something to grease the wheels. Not as iconic as the whipped cream bikni, although hands down more provocative, wihtouth a doubt more practical."

Chasity looked in, eyes wide, grinning from ear to ear. "This is—where did you get this?"

"My cousin interns for a model company in New York. She says the only good thing about the gig, is all the free take-home bags she gets," Jade said, smirking. "She sent me that last week. I was going to keep it for myself, but I thought you might want it."

Chasity, taken back by the gesture, smiled. "Thank you!" she said, pausing for a minute. "How am I supposed to change into this though?" she asked.

Jade took a hard right and pulled into a Big Beefy Burger parking lot. "I've already got that covered," she replied as the tires squealed, barely making it into the parking spot.

Chasity looked at Jade with confusion. "You want me to change here?" She fought to get the words out, trying not to come off as prudish.

"Just go up to the counter and tell Mark you need to use the employee changeroom. He'll know which one you're talking about." The words came out so smooth and confident, it was as if Jade were telling her to order a number ten with two sweet and sour sauces.

"What? Who's Mark?" She looked at Jade, now wondering if the whole thing was a mistake, second-guessing everything leading up to this point. Contemplating whether she really wanted to go through with it.

"The guy I showed you on Myspace. The one I told you about." Jade stared at her for a moment. "You'll be fine, just go up to him and say I need to use your changing room, he'll show you where it is. It's clean and private." Jade reassured her, placing her hand ever so softly on the outer part of her thigh and giving off a comforting yet slightly sarcastic gesture in that bitchy, mean girl way.

Chasity paused for a moment, her hand on the seatbelt buckle, letting it all wash over her. The idea of taking the next step, seeing what all the fuss was about, was a little overwhelming.

Every first she'd shared with Josh began running through her head, like an intense slide show at a wedding party. Their first kiss, sitting in the movie theater waiting to see Jersey Girl. The lights had just gone out, the Fandango commercial had started.

She recalled the first school dance they'd attended together, remembering the ivy green dress her mother picked out for her, him wearing a black suit with the oddest green colored tie that she'd ever seen, yet somehow matched her outfit. She smiled, thinking about how Josh had told her about going to four different stores trying to find it, all because he wanted this homecoming to be perfect, like her. Reminiscing upon their last dance of the night; it was after the music had just stopped that he told her he loved her.

In that moment, her doubt was gone. She remembered the road to those firsts. How she'd had to ask him out, how she had to kiss him first. At the dance, he was standing off to the side, and she'd had to drag him out to the dance floor kicking and screaming because he didn't want to embarrass her with his lack of dance skills. Yet when it came to what mattered most, he had gone first, no holding back.

Walking into the fast-food joint with confidence, bag in her hand, she made her way to the front—only to notice that Mark, the tall, dark, and handsome man from the photos Jade had shown her, wasn't behind the counter. After a moment of looking around, she noticed that he wasn't around at all. "What the fuck!?" she said to herself, admittedly louder than she probably should have.

Nervously she called Jade, who was just out front with the car still running. Looking up after seeing who had been calling, Jade tapped on her wrist through the car window. Chasity gave her an angry, sassy look, placing her phone in front of her face, giving the indication that Jade had better pick up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jade answered. "We don't have all day!"

"I know we don't! However, your boy toy isn't here!" Chasity replied, getting some unwanted attention in the process from other customers.

"Are you kidding me right now?! I was texting him before I picked you up. He said he was working today." Jade whipped the car into an open space before ripping the key out of the engine. Storming into the lobby, straight to the register, she got herself together and smiled at the teenage boy working the front counter.

"Hey, how are you doing today?" she asked the cashier in that overly friendly, mountebank manner, laying it on thick. He smiled back at her.

"I'm doing pretty good. What can I help you with?"

"My friend Mark works here, and my friend Chasity needs to change really quick, and he said we could use the back employee changing room. Would it be possible that you could help us with that?" Jade asked with such innocence, really playing into the "girl next door" persona.

Apprehensive, he clammed up. "Umm, we're not allowed to let anyone back there. Umm, if something happens, I could get into a lot of trouble."

"Nothing is going to happen, I promise she'll be in and out," Jade said sweetly and convincingly. "Leroy," she went on, glancing at his name tag, "I promise she'll be in and out. What's the worst that could actually happen?"

Struggling, he mumbled the words, "I guess." Jade cut him off before giving him a chance to change his mind or get another word in edgewise.

"Thank you so much! You're a lifesaver!" she said in a high-pitched tone, smiling. Quickly, without a second thought, she grabbed Chasity and pulled her by the arm through the kitchen and back to the door they were seeking.

What they got upon opening the door certainly wasn't what they had expected—Mark and his coworker, a senior named Laney from their high school.

"What the fuck! I thought you locked the door?!" Laney yelled. She grabbed at her shirt, which had a few buttons undone.

"Jade, what are you doing here?" Stuttering, not thinking, Mark began to ramble. "It's not what it looks like. Sh-she's—" Like a deer in the headlights, he completely froze.

"Chasity needs to change, and my house is in the opposite direction," Jade said, emotionless and glancing over the two of them. "We're kind of in a hurry, or I'd ask to join in on the fun." She winked at Laney. "Nice piercings, by the way. You have any other ones?"

Baffled, Laney turned to Mark, then back towards Jade.

"I hear getting the tongue pierced is a real game-changer," Jade went on.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Laney said, trying her hardest to keep a straight face.

They all exchanged looks before Jade puts her arm around Chasity and guided her towards the exit. She then stopped and turned. "If you change your mind, Mark has my number!" she called as they left the back and moved into the dining area.

Leroy looked back as they speed-walked past him. All he saw was Mark and Laney coming out of the changing room, Laney furiously buttoning her shirt incorrectly and Mark's pants zipper down.

"Fuck... well, I guess it could be worse," Leroy said as a smile began to form. It was true; things could always be worse.

"What do we do now?" Chasity asked as they got back into the car.

"I'm sorry, I feel like I messed everything up for you. Now you're going to be super late, and you still haven't changed. Maybe this was a bad idea after all," Jade said with uncertainty.

A smile came over Chasity's face. "No, I'm doing this. Hold on, I have an idea." She crawled into the backseat, laid down, and began changing.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jade demanded, shocked at first.

"Keep a lookout, don't keep looking back at me!" Chasity shouted.

Jade chuckled. "I underestimated you, you might just be the one to pop his cherry after all," she said. "And if it doesn't work out, you can always go home and just pull a B Davis."

"Shut up!" Chasity said in a high-pitched tone, throwing her old underwear over the back of the headrest and onto Jade.

"Ewww!" Jade protested playfully. "Get your nasty granny panties off me."

Now fully changed into the promiscuous lingerie, Chasity called out to Jade with a bit of agitation in her voice, "How do I look?"

Jade, eyes still looking straight ahead, being so causal, she actually looked suspicious. "I thought you told me keep lookout, not to look at you," she said playfully, as she pretended to actually be on the lookout.

"Well, you did great, Hoss. The target is secure, now I order you to check me out and report your honest feedback," Chasity said lightheartedly, grinning ear to ear as she got an unexpected adrenaline rush.

A smile cracked on Jade's face as she began to chuckle. "Ma'am, yes ma'am."

Jade did a quick glance around the parking lot, then towards the back seat where Chasity lay, staring for a few seconds before saying anything,

"Well? Say something. How do I look?" Chasity asked as she began to lose her edge ever so slightly.

"Like every teenage boy's wet dream."

"Really?"

"Really!"

As the blue punch buggy pulled up in front of Josh's house, Chasity stared at his front door. "Wish me luck," she said.

Jade turned and smiled. "You don't need luck." She paused for a moment. "But you do need to make sure he wears protection, don't forget." Her voice was stern in tone, like a big sister looking after her sibling. "You don't want to end up like Lara."

Chasity walked around to the back yard and down the stairs to the cellar door, which led into the basement of the house—though it was a regular basement no more, completely remodeled into what would be considered in-laws quarters.

There was a full-size bathroom and a minibar area with five stools. A smaller refrigerator sat off to the side, with a microwave behind the bar. Across from the bar was a sectional and a big screen TV, leaving the bed tucked into the back corner, almost completely out of sight.

Josh's parents have always been uptight, or so he thought. Then one day they come to him with the suggestion of letting him live in the basement, saying that they'd been wanting to turn his bedroom into a home gym. They were going to wait until he went off to college, but then thought, Why wait?

Josh had been given the keys to the kingdom, the type of freedom every senior in high school dreams of. The only difference was that Josh never used it for selfish desires, like sneaking out or sneaking people in. He had been surprisingly responsible with this new opportunity, even more so than his parents had expected.

He knew Chasity was on her way, so he left the door unlocked for her; he only used the basement door whenever his parents weren't home. Josh was sitting on the couch playing on the PlayStation when she entered; he didn't look up once.

"I'm going to the bathroom; I'll be right back!" Chasity called out.

"Okay," he muttered, intensely playing Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. He was completely and utterly focused on the game, not paying any attention to the world around him.

Chasity entered the bathroom and nervously closed the door behind her, resting her head against it. Taking a few deep breaths, she turned around and looked at herself in the mirror, playing back her and Jade's conversation. "Just casually walk out and over to him. Start kissing him, don't say anything. Just pretend it's like any other day."

Dressed to kill and ready to go, she glanced in the mirror one last time, doing one final make-up and hair check. Everything had to be perfect, her hair, her make-up, her walk. Everything, or else it wouldn't be. After a few minor, needless touch-ups, she turned, placed her hand on the golden doorknob, and inhaled one last breath before making her way out.

Josh was still impassioned by the contents of the video game, which forced Chasity to stroll up past the couch and in front of him. Now the center of his attention, she allowed him only a few seconds to gaze before she slowly climbed on top of him.

Chasity, who had no real idea what to do, tried her best to remember the tips that Jade had given her, mixing them up alongside things she'd seen in movies. Grabbing the back of Josh's head, she ran her fingers through his hair.

Josh showed no real emotion and seemed completely spaced out, as if his head was somewhere in the clouds. Panicking, she leaned forward and popped open her bra from the front latch, slowly revealing herself both physically and emotionally to him.

Josh suddenly snapped out of his trance. "I'm sorry," he pleaded, unsure what to say, what to do. This was the first time she had tried to seduce him in this manner, though it was not the first time she'd tried to entice him. Nor was this the first time he had rejected her advances. She'd just never been so relentless before. "I told you, I wasn't ready for...that." He paused, trying to find the right words.

"We've been together for almost two years. I don't get it, I thought you were supposed to be the one trying everything and anything to get into my pants. Not the other way around. Hell, I offered to go down on you and you told me to leave. What guy doesn't want that?" She cried as she started to get dressed.

Josh was still sitting on the couch. "I thought you said you were okay with taking things slow. That there was no need to rush."

"No need to rush! Not 'let's pretend I'm practicing to be a nun and you're the high priest.' My teenage boyfriend barely allowed me to get to second base. You don't realize what I've had to go through just to practically force you to cop a feel. It's as if you don't even like me," she said, tears coming down her face. "I've always told you we could take things slow, but we haven't moved anywhere. It's almost as if we're moving backwards!"

"How do you figure?" he asked.

"You push me away every time I try to make out with you. It's like the idea of me repulses you."

"Don't be dramatic."

"I've waited for you," she shouted. "I've made up excuses for you. I'm the last girl in my circle of friends to still be a virgin!"

"Why does it matter. Who cares that you're still a virgin?" he asked truthfully, although not quite ready to hear the answer.

"Me. I care. I've never even seen a penis in the flesh. My friends joke and say that I'm probably just saying that to cover up the fact that I'm some type of secret slut. The sad truth is, that's actually more believable than my teenage boyfriend is repulsed at the idea of leaving home plate!"

He was in complete shock, at a loss for words. He just sat there, watching as she was about to walk out the door. "Wait."

Chasity paid no attention to him at first. She walked out of the house, closing the door behind her. Her hand left the knob, but still extended out. She paused, grabbing for the handle again. The door cracked open, slowly widening. "I did wait for you, for us. But honestly. I can't wait forever for you. It feels like the longer I wait, the more you drift away. I'm sorry."

Broken down, completely and utterly defeated, unable to form a thought, let alone words, he took one last gaze at her in all her beauty. Tears filled her eyes; she'd somehow always known this moment would come, but that didn't make the situation or how she felt any different.

Realizing the time has come in which you must say goodbye, relinquishing all ties, is never easy. Especially when it's something you believe in your gut you want, for there's always that little voice of doubt. Chasity shared in this doubt without question.

Josh stood there flabbergasted, staring into the abyss. The background setting changed. He was now standing in his back yard, holding the basketball, ceaseless as he, in his mind, relived that moment once again. Picking up on every detail.

But Tony, only knowing the fabricated version that Josh had told him, gave a justified reaction based on the news.

"What the fuck?" Tony blurted out as if he had no self-control or care if Josh's neighbors heard.

Josh gave him the unforgettable panicked look a teenager gets when their parents hear something they're going to fuss at them for later.

"My neighbors can hear you, lower your voice. That old bitch next door tells my mother everything," Josh pleaded.

"I'm sorry. What the fuck?" Tony said again, but this time he doesn't shout it, merely stating it loudly enough to express his emotional distress without disturbing the neighbor lady's soap operas.

"I don't know, man, I didn't mean to be a dick to her. She just flipped out and left. Literally didn't say goodbye, or even shut the damn door," Josh proclaimed.

"Gee, I wonder why?" Tony yelled at him as if he were giving him a stern talking-to, almost like an older brother would. Gazing at him for a moment, realizing his pain, he asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?" Josh said, puzzled. "What am I going to do in reference to what? Not getting thrown off the team?"

"How are you going to get her back?" Tony proclaimed.

Josh stared at him for a moment. "I'm not. This time we're really done," he said, taking his shot.

The ball went up, almost dropped in, and spun around the inside of the hoop only to pop out at the last minute. Tony ran up and grabbed the ball, turning back around and noticing Josh's vacuous face.

"You alright, man?" Tony asked, concerned.

Josh and Chasity did do that thing a lot of high school couples did—breaking up only to rekindle, rinse, lather, repeat. That was why Josh usually wasn't all that concerned about what some would refer to as their "so-called breakup," but this time he felt what happened had been the final nail in the coffin. When she walked out that door, he knew she had given up on him, on them. Anguished, accompanied only with this thought, deep down he wasn't sure if he was okay.

He took a minute to reply. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just tired, stayed up a little too late last night. I'm going to go crash for a few, you can stay and practice if you want. We both know you could use it." He used maximum effect to appear casual and give Tony the illusion that he was fine.

Tony didn't hang around much, since the school was just across the street and whenever Josh went inside for more than ten minutes, the old lady next door would come out and give him hell. So, he made his way over to the school as Josh made his way back into the basement.

Josh, meanwhile, found himself on Myspace, scrolling through people's profiles. He didn't start on Chasity's, although it didn't take him long to come across hers. Then, before he knew it, he found himself on Katie's profile.

They were no longer friends on social media, as part of their deal to go their separate ways. However, it wasn't particularly hard to find her profile, even though people never used their full names or their real names on Myspace. Both Katie and Josh were mutual friends with half the kids they went to school with.

To his surprise, Katie's profile wasn't set to private. It might not have been the first time since she left that he came across her profile while on someone else's page, from checking out their top friends to seeing a comment she'd made. Yet this was the first time he was able to bring himself to look at her profile, in detail.

Her profile picture had been with her and another guy, the caption below the picture said, "Hanging out with the forever best friend." He couldn't help but assume that it had been her boyfriend. He made it to her headline before ripping out the power cord from the wall, yelling "Fuck" in a stint of rage.

Sitting there, staring at the blank monitor, he could hear her saying the words in his head. "The past can't be changed, there is no going back. Everything is constantly changing. That's life. You can change with it or be stuck in a time loop of your own despair for all eternity."