"Hypocrite."

That was Nikki's response after I filled her in on what happened with Miles. I stopped typing up my essay for English to give her a look that she couldn't see over the phone.

"I am not," I defended. "How am I a hypocrite?"

"Don't play dumb, Lo," she said. "You want him to confide in you when you're not willing to do the same."

I scoffed at the accusation. "I have no problem telling him things."

"So, he knows about the accident?"

I remained silent.

"That's what I thought."

"Why does it matter if I tell him or not?"

"Remember what happened a couple summers ago?"

I grimaced at the memory. Mom thought spending the summer with Nikki would help break me out of my mood. Much to my surprise it actually worked.

For about two weeks that summer I was happy. I went out, I laughed, I enjoyed myself. Until I was almost mowed down by a student driver who jumped the curb trying not to hit a cat.

I spent the rest of that summer in the confines of my cousin's room, convinced that I wasn't meant to be happy.

I understood where she was coming from. She was worried that my secret was like another car about to jump the curb, scaring me back into hiding.

That time was different though. My desire to run and hide from the world had lessened since moving to Westbrook.

I've dealt with ex-boyfriends, ex-best friends, my mom getting in a wreck, even Vivian-freaking-Hernandez and I'm still standing. Still willing to wake up every morning and face whatever drama was lined up for me. Because the reward was greater than the risk.

That didn't mean I was willing to intentionally risk my new life by indulging a small detail of my old life that I'd rather keep buried.

"It's not the same," I assured her. "I'm not as fragile as I was back then. I think Miles's optimism is rubbing off on me."

"See," she exhaled. "That's what I'm worried about."

"You're worried that my boyfriend makes me happy?"

"No. I'm worried that he's the only reason you're happy."

I picked the phone up, switched it off of speaker and pressed it to my ear. "What do you mean by that?"

She took a beat before responding. "If you're still not willing to talk about what happened then it still holds power over you."

I don't know where this insightful side of Nikki came from, but I didn't like it.

"What happens if Miles finds out about it?" She continued over my silence. "What if you two break up and you have nothing distracting you from your real issues?"

This entire conversation had started to irk me. Where did she get off giving me relationship advice?

"Where is all of this coming from?" There was a slight edge in my voice that I didn't intend on adding. "Weren't you the one pushing me to go out with him. Telling me not to over think and to just go with it?"

"Yes, but I thought you would open up and talk about what happened," she said.

"Why?" I cried, leaning back in my desk chair and staring up at the ceiling. "That's not going to change anything that happened that night."

The line fell silent once more. My eyes blinked closed longer than needed. Long enough for flashes of blue and red lights to appear and the sound of sirens and muffled voices to fill my ears. Then there was the night sky, full of stars. It's possible I imagined that part or all of it.

After, when I woke up in a hospital bed, I couldn't even remember getting in the car with my dad. Didn't the brain make things up when trying to fill in the blanks?

"Lo?"

My eyes shot open, the sudden burst of light stinging them. "I'll call you later," I told her, with no intention of keeping that promise. I hung the phone up before she had a chance to respond.

My mind wasn't going to be able to focus on homework now. I loved by cousin, but I was pissed that she decided to poke at my buried pass. I didn't trust myself to be alone with my thoughts, so I called Miles.

The phone rang for a long time and just as I was about to end the call he picked up.

"Mermaid."

His voice sounded groggy like he'd just woken up. It was surprisingly sexy.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

He cleared his throat before answering. "Homework."

"It sounds like you were napping."

"Yeah, homework should come with a warning," he chuckled. "May cause drowsiness."

"Come over," I suggested. Talking to him over the phone wasn't satisfying enough. I needed to see him in person. "We can do our work together."

"Will we actually do work," he questioned. "Or are you trying to lure me over so you can seduce me?"

My eyes rolled as I laughed. "There will be no seduction, I promise."

"I mean, we don't have to take it off the table completely."

"Miles!" I laughed again, shaking my head.

"I'll be there in ten."

I held back the urge to scoff at that. "I'll see you in thirty."

+ + +

The words on the screen started to blur and that's when I knew it was time to stop. The essay was due until next week so I wasn't in a hurry to finish it.

Miles sat across from me at the kitchen table. He'd finished his work a while ago and was now crafting origami stars out of notebook paper. There were ten puffy stars littering the table and he working on the eleventh.

The one he had given me at school was upstairs in my jewelry box. It was the only place I could think to put it so that it wouldn't get ruined.

"You must be bored," I said, picking up one of the stars.

"I'm just waiting for the seduction to start," he smirked, adding star number eleven to the pile.

I got up, walked around the table and slid into his lap. "I could use a little break."

He smiled as I leaned down to kiss him. Just as the kiss started to turn into a full on make out he winced, pulling away.

"Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head stiffly, rubbing his neck. "No, it's my neck. I slept on it funny."

What Cameron said on Thanksgiving came to mind. Miles hadn't been home in a month and I'm sure he was still avoiding his dad.

"Where have you been sleeping?"

He pulled me closer, nuzzling his face into my neck. "Wouldn't you rather be kissing me?" His warm breath tickled my neck slightly.

He was trying to change the subject, but it wasn't working. "Please tell me you're not sleeping in your car."

"I'm not," he replied, pulling away to look up at me. "Okay, maybe once. Twice. A few times."

I didn't like the thought of him bundled up in his car while it was so cold out. Or sleeping in his car at all.

"Sleeping in your car is dangerous."

"Depends on where I park," he said with a shrug.

"Miles."

"Going home isn't an option," he told me. "And if I go to a friend's house their parents will call my parents and turn it into this big thing."

"Stay here." The word fell from my mouth without any warning. Heat rose up the back of my neck as I waited for him to say something.

"Um," he coughed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm going to be honest, your mom terrifies me and I'm afraid of she'll do if she catches me in your bed."

A laugh threatened to leave my lips. Miles easily towered over my mom, so him being afraid of her was hilarious.

"First, who said anything about you sleeping in my bed?" He simply laughed at that. "Second, my mom's working late tonight."

At least that's what she told me. I was starting to think it was code for sleeping over at Tyler's.

"Okay," he said. "I just need to get some stuff out of my car."

While he did that I grabbed the air mattress from the hall closet and dragged it up to my room. He wasn't the only one scared of my mom. The loud vacuum-like sound of the air pump as it filled the mattress wasn't enough to drown out the conversation Nikki and I had.

She was right. I hated that she was right. The accident was a big part of me and although it scared me I wanted Miles to know all my secrets. Like I wanted to know all of his.

The sound of the air pump changed to a low hum, meaning the mattress was full. I unplugged it just as Miles walked in. He had changed into some pajama bottoms and as usual he was shirtless.

"You're drooling." He smirked and I threw the sheet set at him, which he caught. "Oh, now you can hear me?"

My brow creased. "What?"

"I came in here earlier to ask where the toothpaste was and you ignored me," he said, pulling a fitted sheet over the air mattress. How could he look so hot just making a bed?

"I don't recall that ever happening."

"You looked deep in thought," he pointed out, laying on his back on the mattress. "What were you thinking about?"

There it was, the perfect opportunity to reveal the darkest part of me. The words refused to come out though. What if it was too much for him? What if he started to look at me differently?

"Vivian's party," I blurted out.

He perked up. "You're going?"

"She sent a male model to invite me," I said, laughing. "It'd be rude not to go."

"You know, she's being genuine about wanting to be your friend."

It was still hard for me to believe that. "Isn't it weird having your ex and a current girlfriend be friends?"

"Vi and I never dated," he told me. "We're just friends."

"Haven't heard that in a while."

"No, really." He chuckled. "We never dated, never even saw each other as dating options. It's completely platonic."

"Then why does she hate me so much?"

He sat up, turning to me as I sat perched on the edge of the bed. His expression was serious. "Full disclosure?"

I nodded.

"We hooked up."

"Oh." That wasn't what I expected. It kind of hurt.

"It only happened once," he explained. "And we both instantly regretted it. We wouldn't have even made it it through if we weren't so wasted."

"Oh?" Images of my boyfriend having drunken sex with his friend flooded my mind. Where was the delete button when you needed it?

"God, please don't tell me I just screwed this up."

How was it so easy for him to tell me something that could've potentially ruined our relationship? He knew it could've ended badly, yet still he told me.

He handed me a part of him and left everything to chance. I wish I had his bravery.

"No!" Was it weird that he was so close to a girl he had sex with? Definitely. But I believed him when he said it meant nothing. If there's one thing I've learned about Miles, it's that he was honest.

"You look like you're freaking out."

"I am, a little," I admitted. "But I believe you."

He reached out, taking my hand in his and kissed the back of it. All I wanted was to open to him the way did to me, but I couldn't. Not because I was afraid of reaction -- I'm sure he would've handled it well. I was afraid of my own reaction. I was afraid to open that wound and let the pain in.

Maybe, eventually, I'd be able to handle it. Just not tonight.