Mack and I are out on her back deck, the weather is starting to change and with each passing day I'm finding myself making more excuses to spend time with her. My time here is winding down and last week I got on the phone with Vern and we discussed album plans. I haven't caused trouble in the six months since I've been here. Mom passed in October, and I was moved in by November, but had to lay very low.

I caused a lot of trouble and the underage drinking did not sit well with the label. Neither did the trashed hotel room. Which was all kept under wraps along with Mom's death, which I begged them to do. Her mental health declined rapidly following her last breakup and she went down a rabbit hole of hanging out with the wrong people.

I'll be leaving in about a month and while I want to get back in the studio, I don't want to leave the one person who has brought light back into my life. She knows about Mom, about my hatred towards Max and it was easy to tell her. While I spilled about my hardships, she told me her mom left when she was a toddler, her Dad has been raising her since. And she also let me know just how overprotective her dad is. We hang out when he's not home, but the second he does come home I jump over the fence and act as if I didn't notice she was there. He scowls at me from time to time.

We're sitting side by side in outdoor chairs. My knees are turned to hers, they're touching and she hasn't made any decision to move them yet.

"Are you all ready for prom?" I ask her.

I can't tell you the relief I felt when no one asked her. She says no one would touch her with a ten foot pole. I beg to differ. I've been with girls — I'm not a saint, but she is. I don't even think she's been kissed, and she most definitely has not been touched.

"I want to bail so badly. Honestly, high school needs to end, but at the same time Tiffany is going away to college and I'll miss her greatly. I'm stuck on what I want so community college will have to do. I'll be stuck under my dad's roof forever, I guess. I have an interview to work at the movie theater, so that should keep me busy."

There's a flier burning a hole in my jean pocket. I saw it while my driver went through town the other day. It's an open mic for all ages at a local pub. She's been working so hard on overcoming her fears of singing a solo in front of everyone, but still clams up on me from time to time. She wants to be ready; I can feel it.

The rebellious teen in me has an idea. I don't see her defying her dad, but I have to ask.

"Do you trust me?"

The side of her lip quirks up. "Rockstar you or the boy next door."

I laugh, because my nickname for her will forever be girl next door, but she doesn't know that.

Leaning to pull the paper from my pocket I bump into her, and she shivers.

"Boy next door me."

As I straighten myself, she moves closer, curious as to what I've got planned. I hand her the flier and allow her to do the honors of opening it up. She slowly does, her fingers fumbling over it because her eyes are on me. Those beautiful dark eyes, holding me hostage. As much as I want to, I can't make this friendship go any further than what we are now. I'm leaving and there's no point in starting something we can't finish.

She averts her eyes to the paper; they widen as she reads each line. Her hands tremble as she peers back leerily at me.

"This is the same night as prom..."

"What if I was your date?"

She narrows her eyes, confusion lines wrinkling her forehead. It's fucking adorable. Her swallow is visible as I watch her neck bob. "Y-you, you want to be my date?"

"What if I do? I'm sorry I don't have an immaculate "promposal" all plotted out..."

She chuckles and the sound reverberates through me, making my jeans grow tighter and my heartbeat stutter.

"I was thinking we can go together and bail?" I nod towards the paper in her hand. "Duet with me, Mack." I hardly recognize the low tone in my voice. I'm seducing her.

Her face pales and I hate the feigned expression on her face. I reach out, my no touching rule flying out the window and wrap my hand around her still shaking one. With a sharp intake of breath, she regards me. A mix of emotions flickering over her. She's torn between wanting it and being worried. Knowing her, it's not only about her sneaking something behind her father's back, but it's singing on a stage. She won't be alone though, she's got me. I won't force it, but singing with her is my kryptonite.

"You're asking me to prom?"

"I can still get a ticket, right? And yeah, I am asking you."

"Why?" If I wasn't looking at her, I wouldn't have heard the question. It's barely a whisper on her perfectly arched lips.

"Why what? I want to go with you. Maybe I'm a bit jealous that there might be someone who asks you to dance."

That gets a small laugh out of her. "There won't be."

"Then let me be him. Let me dance with you, sing with you..." I almost say, be with you, but I already know that's impossible.

Her cheeks flush and eyes become a little weary. "I — I can't s-sing..."

Fuck my touching rule. I take both of my hands and cup her cheeks. They're warm and as smooth as I imagined them to be. She's watching me, not at all frightened by my touch. Being brave I allow my thumbs to rub along her skin. She inhales and lets out a small exhale.

"Then look at me. No one else will be in that room. You look at me and sing to me as we have been doing the last two months. I want to go with you to prom. Maybe it's a bit of wishing I had a normal high school existence instead of those tutors, but really, I just want more time with you."

Her brows furrow like she's trying to figure out why I want to be with her. She has no clue what she does to me. Like when I think of her at night and need a cold shower after. She's the girl I can never have. Not with my lifestyle. Maybe I'm being selfish in pulling her into my world only to spit her back out.

"Don't fight me, Mack. If you want to stay at prom, we'll stay."

I'm still holding onto her. "Everyone will see you."

"Let them see me with you. I'm leaving next month. They have no idea where I live. All I know is it's an extra night we get with each other."

The wheels are turning in her head. She's still trying to figure out why someone like me wants to be with her. I know she is. Though our time together has been short I know it's what she's been thinking.

"Fine. I'll be a rebel with you. What if my dad finds out?"

"He won't. I mean he'll of course know I'm taking you to prom because I'll ask him, but—"

"You'll ask him?" Her laughter returns and a full smile lights up her face. My eyes dart to her lips before returning to her eyes.

"Hell yeah."

"It's not marriage," she chuckles.

"No, but you said it yourself, he's overprotective and on top of that I want to do the cheesy prom pose pictures with you."

She shakes her head and I hesitantly release her face from my grip. "You're something else, boy next door."

"Will you sing with me too? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

For a second, she contemplates this and there's a moment where her expression goes cold and eyes vacant before she returns to her flushed cheeks and smiles.

"Okay. I'm in."

If I could, I would kiss her for saying yes, but instead I opt for biting my lip and smirking at her. Which of course gets her all flustered.

"What are we singing?" she asks.

"You know exactly what we are singing." I pick up my guitar beside me and start to play the opening chords of "Thinking of You", and she laughs but shakes her head.

"Alright boy next door let's duet!"