Knee Deep - Jolene B. Perry

KNEE DEEP JOLENE PERRY

Copyright © 2012 Jolene Perry Except for the use of short passages for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced, in part or in whole, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording, or any information or storage retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. Cover design: Bokheim Media ISBN: 978-0-9837418-8-6 Tribute Books PO Box 95 Archbald, Pennsylvania 18403 (570) 876-2416 Email: [email protected] Website: www.tribute-books.com Visit the book’s web site at www.Knee-Deep-Book.com and email Jolene Perry at [email protected].

For Jordin Barton who is always looking for a “girl” book and has a smile for everyone.

CONTENTS 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

~1~ Guilt pricks at my chest as I lie in bed and listen for Shawn’s motorcycle. Why does he wind me up like this? Why do I let him? Part of me is filled with irritation over lying awake and waiting, while another part of me can’t wait to spend time with him in the middle of the night. He’s running late, and if he’s much later, my morning’s really going to suck. Getting up at five to manage my wild, curly hair before school isn’t easy. Just as I’m about to give up and allow my body to relax into sleep, I hear his bike roar past my house, filling the neighborhood with the sound of his new muffler. I sit up and rub my hands up and down my stomach a few times, trying to dispel some of the nervous tingling that’s always part of sneaking out—no matter how many times I do it. The problem is that it throws me off when we argue, even when it’s minor. How am I supposed to go to sleep with weirdness between us? One little comment about him and his dad being total workaholics made him all quiet. I know he’s not mad—it’s just that there’s this thing hanging between us, and I want it gone before I try to go to sleep. I slide out of bed, and don’t bother changing from my plaid pajama pants and tank top. It also seems silly to bother with a bra. One, I barely need it anyway and, two, I’m

hoping to be back under my covers as soon as we get our little argument straightened out. Shawn is a much more sensitive guy than he ever lets on. And even though it can be irritating, it’s also part of what makes him so sweet. It’s like I’ve known him long enough to know that all the good parts of Shawn outweigh his occasional moodiness. I tiptoe down the hall, grab my flip-flops, stuff my massive amount of red hair into a ponytail, and walk quietly out the front door. No crawling through windows required—not with my parents, who sleep like the dead. Which actually begs the question of why doesn’t he come this way more often? I’m out of the house, into the cool California night air. One step down. I drop my sandals, slide my feet in and start walking. Only a few more minutes. “Ronnie,” someone whispers. I jump, bringing both hands to my pounding chest, which suddenly feels very bra-less, even though I’m covered in a black tank. “Luke.” I breathe a sigh of relief, my heart slowly returning to normal. “What are you doing out here?” Not that I’m surprised, Luke’s always up to something…or someone. “I could ask you the same thing.” He smirks as I step next to him. His shaggy blond hair hangs down over his eyes. He’s in flip-flops, a SpongeBob t-shirt, and tattered shorts —like always. We slowly start up the sidewalk together. Luke, Shawn and I have been close for years. Being close to Luke backfires when girls in my classes want to get to know him and annoy the crap out of me; but aside

from that, he’s easy to be around…to joke with…to make fun of… When Shawn moved back last year, he and Luke picked up where they left off, as best friends. And Shawn and I picked up where we left off—as something a lot more than friends. The thought that we finally came together still warms me, but it also gives me the twinge of a reminder that he’s annoyed. “I kinda screwed up today and made Shawn feel bad.” I wrinkle my nose. “So now you’re going to feel him up to make it all better?” he teases. My cheeks turn hot—sex falls under ‘topics I tease Luke about,’ but he’s never teased me before. Not on this. “Oh, come on, you guys have been together forever. Does that really embarrass you?” He wings his elbow out to softly bump my arm. Of course it does, but I’m not sure I want to tell him that. I think everyone assumes that Shawn and I sleep together, but we don’t. Bringing it up makes me feel stupid, a bit juvenile, and I’m not sure what else, but it’s definitely uncomfortable. “Wait.” Luke rests his hand on my arm stopping us on the sidewalk. “You two haven’t…?” His head is low, trying to catch my gaze. It’s just Luke, right? I shake my head, but still don’t make eye contact. We stand in silence for so long I start to worry I just messed up somehow.

His hand drops, and he sighs. “Cris and I split.” My head snaps up. “You really liked her, huh?” I ask. “I did.” He nods. When he exhales, there’s a hint of frustration. “She was right. My attention was divided.” I slide my arm through his as we slowly start to walk again. Luke’s attention is probably always divided. “With who?” I bump him with my hip. “I’m curious to know which girl I have to make myself like before we’re all hanging out together.” “It’s not important.” His voice is still low and quiet. “Hey. Are you okay?” I use my arm in his to pull us together, and I love that he feels good like this. Walking, talking, easy…it makes me realize how tense I was just getting out of my house. Guess that, too, has become part of my routine. “I’m fine. And someone—” He gestures with his chin toward Shawn’s house. How did we get here so fast? “—is waiting for you.” Now, even though I planned on talking to Luke about Shawn ‘cause they’re so tight, I’m suddenly afraid. I suck in a breath as the tension builds back up. “Spit it out, Ronnie.” Even in the dark I can see him rolling his brown eyes, but I can also see his dimples. He’s teasing. Now I’m not sure how to say it, or if it’ll all come out weird. It should be easy, right? This is Luke. We can talk. Even about Shawn. “Has Shawn seemed…” “Stressed?” he offers. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a rush of breath and my

shoulders fall. Luke’s noticed the added tension in Shawn too. It’s not just my imagination, and this brings me hope that it’s just a temporary thing. “He works too hard—like his dad. I know it’s been rough since they moved back. Shawn’s mom is the one that really wanted the move. I think it’s causing problems, but Shawn doesn’t talk about it much.” “To me either.” And I want to say that it’s more than that, but it’s not even something I can put into words. He’s tighter than he’s ever been—tighter with words, with time, body language—it feels like something’s different, but he just keeps avoiding the subject. You’re a girl , he says, and are probably seeing things that aren’t there. Then we start kissing and our conversation is forgotten. But it’s like, how am I supposed to help him if he won’t talk about what’s going on? Guess there’s nothing left to say about Shawn. “Sorry about Cris.” I put my arms around him and hug him tightly. Luke smells like coconut and sandalwood; all things that bring me straight back to the beach house Mom and Dad rent every year. I breathe in deep and wonder if he smells like this on purpose, or if it’s just part of being Luke. My hands run over the effects of hours of surfing over the summer as I pull away from our hug. “When did you start feeling so good?” I tease. He rubs his palms up and down his abs and grins. “It’s how I get the ladies.” We stare at one another. My chest tightens, a totally new

feeling around Luke, and I wonder if he has something else to say. Silence. One beat. Two beats. My breathing stops. “Night, Ronnie.” He gives me a half wave before continuing down the sidewalk. “Night.” And I can’t bring my feet to move. I just stand and watch him go. Silence with Luke? Tingly, and weird. I suck in a breath as I turn to Shawn’s. Okay. I can do this. Easy. There’s a routine for coming here late at night. I move quietly around the left side of the house, take the key from the bird feeder, and unlock the gate. Then I put the key back just where I found it. There’s no easy way to go in through Shawn’s window, even though their house is only one floor. I tap a few times on the corner of his window and wait. As stressful as this routine can be, I love that we have it. His return tap hits me in the chest, and pulls my face into a smile. Just like every time. Now I sit and wait. He’ll either open the back door and let me in, or if his parents are awake, he’ll join me in the backyard. I slump down in one of the soft, cushioned lawn chairs. The surface of the pool ripples with the breeze, spreading goose bumps up my legs and arms. My heart does the same little flip-thump it always does as the glass door slides open and Shawn’s broad form fills the doorway. He’s still in his work polo and khakis, and runs a hand through his short, dark hair as he strolls into the backyard.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he says. His voice is low and smooth, and his skin is dark from the sun—all things that are such a part of my life that I sometimes forget how hot he is. Wait. He was beginning to think I wasn’t coming? “What?” I’m confused. We hadn’t talked about me coming over. I just knew he was upset. I start to tell him I ran into Luke, but something stops me. “You’re so predictable, Ronnie.” His white smile spreads, accentuating his straight jaw. “If there’s any weirdness, you have this need to fix it. It usually takes you about five minutes after my garage door closes.” He sits next to me, pressing our sides together. Which feels really great until I remember that I feel totally played. Does he cause little arguments on purpose so I’ll come over? Lose sleep? It suddenly seems completely unfair. Why isn’t he the one coming to my house? “Don’t do that face.” His fingers smooth out my brow and run down my cheek, sending shivers across my back and down my spine. “I love you, Ronnie. I rely on you. I know you. That’s a good thing.” My body relaxes again with his words. He’s right. We know each other. We rely on each other. It is a good thing. It’s the one thing that brings me more comfort than anything else. We’ve known each other since we were kids. There’s history, memories, and a lot to look forward to. “You’re still pouting. That’s cute.” His lips touch the corner of my mouth. “I love your brown eyes in the dark,” he whispers.

I ignore his last comment because I really think he’s just trying to suck up. “I’m pouting because I feel stupid. Why don’t you come to my house?” “Because my parents are up until all hours and would notice my absence. Yours won’t.” His lips slide across my cheek…under my ear. I know this and really should stop bringing it up. But when I’m leaving my house and it’s all dark and quiet, it feels like he should be there. His lips continue to move across my skin. My chest flutters, making it hard to breathe in such an amazing way—like the feeling of near suffocation would be the best thing ever. Now his fingers trace my collarbone. Yet another thing that makes my body shiver every time. This is when I love how well he knows me. “See?” He chuckles quietly. “Your body wants me.” Even if you don’t. I know that’s how he wants to finish the sentence. I pull away. Does every conversation have to be like this? Just when we’re all back to perfect and normal? His eyes aren’t on me; they’re on my chest. He slides his arm around my side and reclines the chair we’re sitting in. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he whispers in my ear. “Because I was trying to go to sleep.” I try to keep annoyance in my voice, but as he touches me, lying so close, I’m smiling. I love feeling wanted this way—quietly, softly. This is all the things I love about Shawn. I let my leg rest over his as our kiss deepens. On the lounge chair, with

the sound of palm fronds clacking in the breeze, everything disappears but us. ***

WHEN I WAS TWELVE… …Shawn built a dam in our creek after watching that old Stephen King movie, IT. It made our picnic spot even more magical. He went all out. Or his mom did, one of the two. We each had a peanut butter and banana sandwich (both our favorite), apple slices (my favorite), and colored mini-marshmallows (his favorite). He even brought his mom’s checkered blanket. I loved every teeny tiny bit of it. It was the first year I’d noticed him as more than a friend. The first year I watched his lips and wondered what it would be like to feel them against mine. The first year I noticed how other girls looked at him. It was also the first year that when I screamed about boys having cooties, I didn’t really mean it. It was the year of my first kiss. He tasted like marshmallows. He saved the kiss for last. He was about to leave for the summerhouse with his parents, and said he would miss me a lot and wanted to do something special. He thought the coolest girl in the world needed the best day and the most perfect spot for her first kiss. I will never forget that day.

~2~ I slide on the dress I spent all summer working for, making sure the slim straps slide just right over my white tank. The high, snug waist makes me look like I might have actual boobs, which is sort of a miracle. The blue and green silk brushes on the tops of my feet as I step outside into the warm sun. “You and your hippie dresses.” Shawn shakes his head as he walks up my driveway. He’s in a linen button up, white tee, shoes and pants. We dress on opposite ends of the fashion spectrum, but it’s one of the things I love about him. “It’s boho,” I correct with a smile, giving him a peck on the lips, which turns into more. “And at least I didn’t wear the sandals that I could have gotten.” Our faces are so close I can still smell toothpaste and aftershave. Gucci and Crest. It’s all Shawn. All familiar. “Heels, right?” he asks, a tinge of irritation in his voice. “Are you seriously going to knock my height on the first day of school?” “I’m not knocking your height. It’s you who doesn’t like me being taller.” I smirk. I drool over the wooden and cork wedges I love so much, but it makes Shawn uncomfortable when I’m taller than him. We’re both 5’9” with no shoes. I get it, him being the guy and all, but it’s just height, and just inches. I’d think that once in a while it wouldn’t be such a

big deal. But in the end, it’s really not worth him being in a bad mood. And it is just shoes. His face flattens. “Hmmm.” He turns away and starts to walk toward the school. “Wait.” Is he really this mad? I reach out for his arm, but his whole body tenses. He spins around, his jaw tight, and glares. I step back, jerking my arm away. What’s going on with him? The side of me that’s been worried kicks into high gear, sending my heart racing. “Shawn! Ronnie!” Luke waves from just up the street. I jump at the sound of someone’s voice cutting through this awkward moment. Luke’s wearing some red vintage Atari t-shirt, shorts that look like they need replacing, and flip-flops. Seriously, his mom’s in real estate and has more money than both our families put together, but he dresses like a beach bum. Shawn shakes his head. “Both of you look like you just stepped out of 1978.” His shoulders slump down and he starts to walk again, but relaxed this time. Better. I give Luke a high-five, just because I know it’ll bring another eye-roll from Shawn, and hope that joking around will keep him loosened up. “Atari wasn’t around in 1978,” I say. “I don’t think.” “Is that the dress? The one you wanted to make sure you could get?” Luke asks. “You’ve been paying attention.” I put my arm around Shawn. “It’s nice to know that someone appreciates my dresses.” I kiss Shawn’s cheek.

“I appreciate dresses.” Shawn pulls me close, but his hand is rougher than I expect. “The length just seems like an awful waste of fabric.” “You are unbelievable.” I kiss him again, anything to get him to relax. “You know it, babe,” he teases. We share a smile, and I guess the weirdness is gone. Or at least better. I need to ask him about it, about what’s going on with him. It’s just that right now—with Luke, on our way to school is definitely not the right time. “Alright, you two.” Luke chuckles. “Can we head to school now?” Right. My first day of my last year of high school. Crazy. *** I’d never admit to loving being back in school, but I love being back in school. It smells like new ink from unopened textbooks, and everyone’s in their favorite new clothes. It all just adds up to a fresh start. Shawn’s hand is in mine and I’m up on my tiptoes trying to find Mindy. I haven’t seen her since she got home from spending the summer with her dad way down in San Diego. Finally, I catch sight of her short blond curls. “Mindy!” I wave over the students in the hallway. Her dress is shaped just like mine, small straps, high waist. Hers is the length of a tunic only she’s wearing nothing under it, and she has on the most delicious green wedge sandals I’ve ever seen. Heels. I let out a wistful sigh.

“Ronnie!” Her petite form runs up the hall toward me, despite her tall shoes, and we grab each other in a ribcrushing hug. “See?” Shawn points down. “They make your hippie dresses short.” Mindy rolls her eyes, and her gaze rests right back on me. “Is he still on about that?” “Apparently.” I let out a breath of disgust, pretending to be annoyed. “Well, we’re going to have to ditch these boys so we can catch up.” Her bright blue eyes shine and her grin is mischievous. “Agreed.” And before I can form a protest, she’s dragging me through the halls and away from Shawn. He’s frowning behind me, but Mindy’s excitement is contagious, so I just smile in return. *** The excitement of our first day back at school is sort of wearing off with our first night of homework. My pack is heavy, and Shawn’s doesn’t look all that much lighter. “You ditched me today.” Shawn’s voice is all pouty. As if maybe, I somehow misunderstood the body language he’s used since walking out of school. Not looking at me, not squeezing my hand… “What are you talking about?” I watch my toes peek out from under my dress, something I never get tired of seeing.

“Running off with Mindy, and then talking to the drama coach at lunch. I mean, we’re dating. We should actually look like we’re together.” I hate it when he’s sulky like this. “I haven’t seen Mindy all summer.” “Well, I have to work this afternoon. You two could have caught up then.” His voice is clipped and short. “She is coming over this afternoon.” I smirk to try and show that we’re not in an argument, but half of me feels like we are. “Boys just don’t understand how much time it takes girls to catch up.” But Shawn’s whole body is as tense as it was this morning. “You two share more than half your classes. I mean, you guys sat down at the end of last year to plan your schedules.” I can feel him looking at me, but continue to watch my toes peeking out from under my dress. “And you were in the same room, and could have joined in.” I keep my voice relaxed. There’s no reason for him to be upset—it’s a balance between saying what I really want to say, and keeping the peace until he can think about it or calm down. “It just sometimes seems like…never mind.” He shakes his head. I hate never mind. It’s like—oh yeah, that thing I wanted to say? You’re just not important enough for me to actually say it. “What does ‘never mind’ mean?” I ask. “If you want to say something just say it!” “It’s not a big deal, Ronnie.” We stop at the end of my

driveway, finally making eye contact, only I have no idea what I should be doing to change the way he’s looking at me. Fine. Now it’s my turn to be irritated. “You coming in?” And it makes me crazy having stuff left hanging in the air, but at the same time I don’t think we’ll get anywhere right now. My need for us to be okay probably has more to do with my dad being a shrink than anything else, but still. It should make anyone crazy. And I’m worried about him. Today is a perfect example of how weird he’s been. The smallest things set him off, and that’s not like Shawn. Something’s going on. Probably we won’t actually get this sorted out until he decides to tell me what it is. The problem is…I’m still not sure how to ask. “Gotta work, remember?” He’s trying to make his voice sound normal, even though it really doesn’t. This is what he does when he doesn’t want to talk. “You know I hate separating like this.” I push my lip out into a frown. “We’ll talk later. If I have time.” He kisses my cheek and walks away. “Dad and I have sound systems to sell and radios to install.” My chest drops. “No, wait. Shawn! After last night you and I both know if you walk away I’m going to have to find a way to sneak over tonight and…” “And that’s a bad thing?” A corner of his mouth pulls up as he looks at me over his shoulder. How do I answer? I can’t say it’s a bad thing for us to

have some quiet time together late at night. I step forward and close the distance between us. “If you want me there, you can just ask.” I hate games. I’m close enough that I know my breath hits his face, but when he tries to kiss me I pull back, smiling, waiting for him to say what I want him to. “Okay. Fine. Come over tonight?” he asks. “Please ?” He leans over me as his hands tighten around my back, keeping me close. “I’d love to.” I part my lips, starting a kiss that leaves me delightfully light-headed. “See you tonight,” he whispers, softly kissing my cheek. It’s these little things that make me remember how Shawn just feels good. And how good we are together. For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to sneaking out. ***

I WAS THIRTEEN… …and Shawn’s face held bad news. “You’re moving?” My heart dropped. “Yeah. Dad’s hoping it’s temporary.” He let out a sigh. “And you promise to write?” I asked, with the last bit of air in my lungs. “Of course I will.” “Pinky swear?” I held my pinky out for him to take. He did. And then he kissed me again.

Shawn and I wrote to each other all year long. I got a letter a week and I savored each one. I read and re-read them with my girlfriends picking apart each and every one of his thirteen-year-old words. I used to sleep with his most recent letter next to my bed, under my pillow, or clutched in my hand as if that piece of paper would somehow hold us together. But we didn’t need the piece of paper. We were in love. *** Mindy and I sit by the pool in my backyard. There’s no way to really catch up during the twenty-five minutes the school thinks we can eat our lunch in. “So, what’s your thing this year?” she asks, pulling out our notebook. I smile. Every year since we were eleven, Mindy and I have planned to try something new. Last year was yoga, and it didn’t happen ‘til our year was almost up. It didn’t catch on with me, but now she’s hooked and does all these weird twists while standing on her head in my backyard. And although it’s totally impressive, it’s just not me. “I’m going to try out for theater,” I say. “You said that last year but ended up doing yoga with me instead.” She chews on the end of her purple pen and opens the notebook on her lap. “Shawn moved back over Christmas, so it kind of got pushed aside…” “Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “For bigger and better

things.” “Exactly.” Because finally getting the guy I spent my whole youth pining for was definitely huge. “I think the play is Romeo and Juliet,” she says. “It wouldn’t matter what it is. I’m determined. Besides, all I have to do is try out.” I reach out my hand and she sets the book in my palm. I write:

Senior year— Ronnie will try out for the play—other firsts to be documented as they happen. Mindy will… We write this every year, and every year we keep random stuff in here. First kisses. First feel-ups. First school skips… everything that’s important. “True.” She leans back. “You just have to try out. Wanna know what my thing is?” “You’re taking a mechanic class fifth period. Is that it?” It seems a little tame for her, but I’ll go with it. “Well, that was going to be it, and it still might be.” Her face doesn’t turn toward me, but I can see a smile spreading. “What’s up?” “Well, Luke is single again and…” Now her eyes are on me, gleaming but wary. “And, what?” My chest tightens up in suspicion. Not good. Why am I suspicious?

“I’ve kind of had this crush on him.” She’s pressing her lips together. “You know, like everyone with a pulse does, and I wanted to talk to you first, so…” My heart sinks at the thought of it. “It would be weird.” Ugh. I can’t imagine them walking together, or kissing, or… anything but the way we’re all friends now. I have to force my body not to shudder at the thought. “Why? You and Shawn are together and we all hang out as friends.” Her brows wrinkle up. “Luke goes through girls pretty fast, you know.” Maybe a warning will stop this train of thought. “Yeah, and I know you two are like, really good friends, so I don’t want there to be weirdness, but I’ve been sort of friends with him too, you know?” Mindy’s fiddling with the rings on her fingers, a sure sign she’s nervous. “Well, you know—whatever.” I shrug, even though part of me wants to scream. That’s crazy. But what if things didn’t work out? And they’re both my good friends—yeah, too weird for me. “Well, I have backup if Luke’s not interested.” She leans back in her chair. I’m appeased. It doesn’t sound like she’s after any more than Luke’s always after—something easy and fun. “Who’s backup?” “Paul.” “Paul? Paul, who?” We don’t know any Paul. “Paul Mitchells?” Her arms are now relaxed at her sides, all traces of nervousness gone. “He’s kind of a dorky little thing, isn’t he?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Have you seen him this year?” “Uh, no. Today was our first day and I spent almost the whole day with you.” I bump her with my elbow. “Well he spent the summer at some wrestling camp.” She sits up and leans forward. “Ewww, no wrestlers.” I shake my head. “Tiny, tight spandex uniforms and sweating and grunting. They come to school and eat plain chicken breasts. It’s gross.” “Whatever, Ronnie.” She laughs. “I ran into him in San Diego this summer. Anyway—I know he’d date me if the whole Luke thing doesn’t pan out.” “So he’s the new thing this year? I don’t think boys count.” I shake my head. First experiences maybe, but not dating. “But I’ve always had an aversion to wrestlers. And I’ve always been afraid of Luke ‘cause he’s so hot. Anyway, if boys don’t count, even though they have a specialty …” she widens her eyes. “My mechanic class counts. I’m gonna learn how to fix Peter Rabbit so he stops costing me so much.” Peter Rabbit is her beloved VW…Rabbit, of course. “And is Paul in this class?” I ask. “Yes he is!” She grins so wide I can see her molars. “Good luck with that…” I finish writing her goal, aside from the Luke part.

Mindy will date a wrestler (even though…eww) and learn to fix Peter. “I don’t need luck. He can’t stop staring at my legs.” She smirks, leans further into her lounge chair, and takes a long drink of Pepsi.

“I couldn’t stop staring at your legs.” I point at her with the end of my pen. “Oh! That reminds me.” She sits back up. “I know you would have called or told me or something, but you and Shawn haven’t…” She’s shaking her head with narrowed eyes. “No.” A pang hits my chest. Some of my life would be a lot easier if we had, but I know other parts of my life would get infinitely more complicated. It’s just one of those things that continues to make me feel…awkward. “I get it. No worries. After last year, I’m in no hurry.” She lets out a long breath. Last year she got pregnant—the whole situation sucked, from the guy bailing to her going in for a doctor’s appointment. And then her body aborted on its own, but it was enough to scare the crap out of both of us. And then the ending, even with the relief it brought, sort of sucked too. “Well Shawn’s ready. I’m just—I don’t know why it still feels like a lot, but it does.” It feels huge—like a stamp on my forehead, or a mountain I need to climb, only it happens while naked and it’s just way too much to deal with. “So, that’s it. End of story.” She lies back down. Right. End of story. Only it’s not the end of the story because Shawn’s not going to let it go. I don’t blame him or anything, but the added pressure doesn’t help, it just makes me feel silly, stupid, immature…the list goes on. And now with him acting off, it makes it even harder. The problem is that I have no idea what to do about any of it.

~3~ When I step outside for school Luke’s walking up the street with Mindy’s petite form under his arm. My chest caves in. It all feels so wrong. I can’t stop staring as I stand just inside the shadow of my porch. This shouldn’t matter. They’re both my friends, they’re both awesome people and, really, they’re totally suited to each other. But my chest is all heavy and I don’t even want to attempt to take a full breath. “Hey!” Mindy waves, but doesn’t move from where she’s cradled against Luke. This is so…horrible, but what does it say about me that I don’t want this for my two good friends? Why is it so weird?

It just is. “What’s with you?” Luke asks. “Sorry.” I shift my pack up on my shoulder as Luke takes me under his other arm. “You don’t normally slum with us walkers,” I say to Mindy, trying to keep the teasing tone in my voice. “I saw Luke as he stepped out of his house and thought I’d walk with you guys today.” I have no idea what her face looks like because I can’t bring myself to look at her. There’s something seriously wrong with me if I can’t be happy for my friend liking my other friend. “Oh.” And now is when I should smile at her in encouragement or something, but I can’t bring myself to do

it. My heart’s pounding all hard and it’s just…wrong. “You’re too late!” Luke calls out ahead of us. “They’re both mine!” “Very funny.” Shawn doesn’t even crack a smile. Dark circles rim his eyes and even his tanned face looks pale. I step away from Luke and into Shawn. I don’t pause until my arms are around him. His body is hard, tense—like I can’t get a good hold on him. “You okay?” I whisper. “Better if Luke would keep his hands off you,” he whispers back. “It’s just Luke.” My hands rub his shoulders a few times, and his body slowly relaxes. “What’s going on?” I lean my forehead against his. “Got in a fight with my dad last night, and then couldn’t sleep.” “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You should have called.” “It was too late.” “Okay.” I kiss his cheek. Now I’m thinking about what Luke said about Shawn’s dad being stressed. There’s a weight of worry settling over Shawn. Maybe something bad is happening. Maybe he has good reason to be so tense. Not that I think he’d be tense just for fun. I wish he’d just tell me what’s going on with him. “Let’s go.” His voice sounds normal. Does this mean he’s okay? His fingers slide through mine, and we step in behind Luke and Mindy who are, fortunately, no longer touching. ***

“So, what’s up with you and Luke?” I ask, as soon as we’re sitting in art class without the boys. It’s like I have to know, but I don’t want to know. I don’t think. Unless they’re not together, and then I do want to know. “Operation Paul goes into full effect today.” She smiles. “And I’m in the right dress for it.” She straightens a nearly bare leg in front of her. I wonder if it was Operation Luke first? “What happened?” She shrugs. “Luke’s distracted, has a lot going on. I asked if he’d want to go out sometime and we talked while we walked to your house, and he said that, yeah, he just has too much going on right now. I’m cool, he’s cool, and it’s all fine.” “Just like that?” I’m doing everything I can think of to not sound grateful that things turned out the way they did. It’s

fine. They won’t be together. I need to relax about the whole thing because it shouldn’t matter. She laughs. “If you keep sounding so relieved I’ll start to think you have a thing for him.” “Luke?” I laugh. “No way. Especially not with…” “Shawn.” Her eyes widen. “We all know it’s Shawn and Ronnie forever.” She giggles. “Whatever.” But I smile, knowing it’s true. Or that we want it to be. There’s something incredible about being loved by someone I’ve known for so long. Like he knows me, loves me, and yeah, it’s this thing I can count on. Solid. Stable. The weird way he’s been creeps in but I shake it off. It’s

temporary, and going through rough times is all part of being in love with someone. *** Mindy, and her now almost-boyfriend, Paul, are sharing the lounge chair next to mine. She works fast. Or, her legs do. Operation Paul only went into effect a few days ago, though Mindy’s probably the coolest girl he’s ever had his hands on. She’s right on one count—he broadened a lot. They lie next to one another, not touching, just lounging, eyes closed, in the sun, listening to my dad’s music. It makes me realize that Shawn is always touching me. Always. I’m on my own chair, and he’s on the concrete patio with his hand wrapped around my calf. Is this a good thing? A possessive thing? A ‘no big deal’ thing? Am I suddenly just crazy? Luke stands over the barbeque next to Dad. He always helps with cooking on the grill. This is one of a million afternoons with friends—warm, peaceful, relaxing. Mom and Dad’s song comes on, something old by Jack Johnson. I catch Mom out of the corner of my eye as she smiles at Dad’s back, turns up the music and heads in his direction. I get my red hair from Mom, but my height from Dad. Both my older brother Ben and I, look like Dad with Mom’s pale, freckly skin and red hair. Dad’s nearly all grey now, but stands at a broad six feet. His body turns as the music changes. They meet next to the pool and start dancing. They’ve done this since I was

little. “Don’t let that chicken burn,” Dad warns Luke as he pulls Mom closer. “Because I won’t be paying attention for the next few minutes.” His eyes never waver from hers. “No, sir!” Luke laughs as he picks up the tongs. Their noses touch and their eyes close. I slide my hand across Shawn’s back. In twenty-some years that could be us, dancing in the backyard, faces close, still as much in love as we are now. I glide my fingers through the back of his dark hair. “Your parents are so weird,” he whispers, as he turns toward me. “I think it’s sweet.” I watch them across the pool and wonder how anyone wouldn’t want that. Paul picks Mindy up and places her on her feet. His grin should tide her over ‘til tomorrow. That boy’s thrilled to be where he is. He lets her keep her distance so that even though she’s standing next to him in her swimsuit, she doesn’t look uncomfortable at all. Actually she probably has more power to make him uncomfortable. I’m glad for her. It’s always nice for Shawn and I when our friends have dates. Shawn stands up and wanders into my house, probably looking for another soda. And even though he’s had a hand on me all afternoon, he walks away at the one time when I want to be touched. I feel a little hurt that I’m one of three couples in the backyard and I’m not dancing. I force out a breath. This train of thought isn’t going to do me any good, and is probably just me entertaining little girl

fantasies. I swing my legs off the side of my chair and join Luke at the grill. “I’m jealous of your parents.” He flips over a piece of chicken. “We all should be,” I say. I stretch my pale, freckly arms out in front of me wondering if there will ever be a time when I like my skin. His eyes hit mine, filled with questions. Right. I shouldn’t be jealous because I have Shawn. “I don’t ever remember mine being like that.” His eyes go back to the food. “How’s your dad doing?” I ask. Luke’s parents split when we were about fourteen, and Luke was pretty wild for a while. He spent more time drinking, smoking and skipping school than most pothead seniors do. He started to pull out of it at the beginning of junior year, and I think Shawn coming back into town around Christmas really helped him finish getting back on track. “Okay. Busy like always.” Luke shrugs. “Good.” Now I’m not sure what else to say. “Mindy said that she…” “I didn’t hurt her feelings, did I?” He gestures toward her subtly with his chin. “She seems to be doing fine.” He smirks. “Yeah, she was okay with it.” The whole thing made me feel all crazy but I survived, and it’s not something I’m going to bring up. “Gonna try for the play this year?” he asks. “I saw you

talking to Mr. Blackman the other day.” I suck in a breath. Perfect. Subject change. “I’ve always wanted to, and now it’s like, senior year, so it seems like I’m about to lose my opportunity.” “You should. It’s fun. I’m in again this year.” He shrugs. “It just doesn’t seem like a Luke thing to do.” I chuckle. “And what does?” His golden brown eyes find mine. “I don’t know.” Making out with hot girls at the beach maybe? But I guess he’s mellowed out a bit and that’s not a fair thing to say anymore. “They’re a pretty non-judgmental group of people. Since I seem to be able to hang with whoever I want, they’re a good group.” He pokes the meat with Dad’s tongs just like Dad does. “You’re funny.” Everyone likes Luke, why would he worry about fitting in anywhere? “I’m taking Aubrey out this weekend.” He sighs. “Don’t sound so excited,” I tease. His weight shifts and he begins to flip over the chicken pieces. “She’s nice, but it was like she kept hinting, and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just asked her out. It was almost as awkward as Mindy, and I’m still not sure why I said I’d go.” I shake my head. “You have absolutely no idea that almost every girl in our school would love a chance to go out with you.” “Almost ?” He tries to tease, but I can tell by his tone and how his brows go up that he’s also a bit surprised by my

comment. “Well, some of us are already occupied.” I wink. Just then, Shawn’s arms come around me from behind. “What are you two doing over here?” “Sweating over the grill so you can eat.” Luke points the tongs at Shawn, chuckling. “Whatever, man.” Shawn pulls me back with him. “Let’s jump in.” “I don’t know—” But I don’t get a chance to finish before Shawn and I are airborne and hit the water together. I play along and laugh because the attention from him is always good, but I just dried off and have a hard time pushing the irritation away. Dad takes over at the grill. Mindy, Paul and Luke all sit on the edge of the pool with their feet in while Shawn and I float. Luke’s eyes are the first thing I see when I get out, sending something like tingles straight through me. I pull in a breath and look away. I have to be misreading the way he’s looking at me. It’s Luke. My friend Luke. Shawn takes my hand and finds me a chair in the shade so we can eat comfortably. Mom’s on Dad’s lap. Mindy and Paul sit close, and Shawn’s hand rests over my shoulder, making me wonder how he’ll manage to eat his dinner. Luke’s eyes don’t meet mine again. I know the look from him was just odd timing, but he suddenly seems kind of alone. I guess I hope he and Aubrey get along. She seems nice. But at the same time, I have yet to meet a girl who’s

good enough for Luke.

~4~ “I’m the understudy for Juliet!” I throw my arms around Shawn and our chests hit, knocking the breath from me in my excitement. I’m sort of in disbelief that my name will be part of the production at all. He leans his face back just far enough to catch my eyes, and cocks a brow. “Isn’t that kind of like telling you that you don’t have a part?” My arms drop and I feel a pang in my chest. I know I shouldn’t be hurt because he doesn’t understand the theater stuff, but his words sting just the same. This is something I’m excited about. I don’t give a crap about amps and watts and speakers, but I sit and talk with him when he wants to. “Not at all. She definitely has a part.” Luke rests his arm on Shawn’s shoulder—warping the face of his Cookie Monster t-shirt. “She’s never done theater before and all the other girls who tried out for it have. It’s a big deal.” I’m glad Luke understands; maybe he’ll make sure Shawn does too. Shawn shakes his head. “I can’t believe you two are going to make me hang out with a bunch of theater geeks.” “If it’d make you feel better, Ronnie and I could just leave you behind.” Luke smirks and pretends to reach for my arm. “Hands off my girl, punk.” Shawn pushes him away with a

smile. “Where’s Cris?” How does Shawn not know this? My heart sinks at the look on Luke’s face. “We…uh, broke up.” He shrugs, but his face holds something else. Guess he really did like her. “Wow, I thought you were like, tight.” Shawn makes a motion with his hips. Could he be more insensitive? I slap his chest with the back of my hand. “Seriously? Is that all you boys think about?” “No. Yes.” Shawn’s head wobbles back and forth. “Mostly, yeah.” And then his dark eyes hit mine like there’s nothing he’d rather look at. He brushes a few stray strands off my face, sending butterflies dancing in every direction. “But only cause I love you so much.” His mouth meets mine so softly, so easily, that I can’t stop kissing him. Waves of happy tingles move through me, as I melt against him. This is me and Shawn at our best. “Oh-kay.” Luke chuckles. “That’s my sign to get lost.” I try to pull away to wave goodbye, but my lips, face, and body are otherwise occupied, which feels about perfect. *** My head rests on the warmth of Shawn’s chest as we lie on his twin bed watching a movie where everything blows up. I generally don’t care what we watch because we can be like this, snuggled together in his room, which is my favorite thing in the world to do. One arm rests around my waist

while the fingers on his other hand play with small strands of my hair. Everything is warm, soft and comfortable. The front door slams and Shawn jumps. “Shit.” He sits up fast, his whole body taut. “What time is it?” “I don’t know, like ten?” I slowly sit up, resting on my hands behind me, and mourning the loss of warmth. “Diane!” His dad’s voice is sharp. Hard. My heart jumps and starts running a marathon. Shawn leans forward and locks his door, now facing directly away from me. His eyes don’t meet mine. He grabs the remote and turns up the TV. I can no longer make out his dad’s words, but the anger is there—seeping under Shawn’s door, through the walls, making my chest tighten. My dad has never talked to my mom that way, not even when they argue. What’s going on? The only thing I hear above the TV is my heart thumping in my ears. I touch Shawn’s arm, and it’s like I’ve released him from a vice—his body slumps forward, elbows on knees. “Dad’s been stressed. You know, since we moved.” The words come out in a mumbling rush. I slide up behind him on the bed, wrap my arms and legs around his waist, and kiss the back of his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” This is what I can do, the only thing I can think of to do. His arms tighten over mine, and we just sit. His dad’s voice is louder than the TV at several points, but neither of us says anything. I just keep my arms and legs tight, as he sits still and lets me hold him. My body’s tense. I jump

occasionally at a particularly loud outburst, and all I hope is that he doesn’t come knocking on the door. I hold Shawn tighter. No wonder he’s been so weird, so stressed, so tight. Who wouldn’t be? There are a million questions running through my head. Does this happen often? Is your Mom okay? She’s out there with him alone. Does he yell at you? Are you scared? Why didn’t you tell me? Does Luke know? Does anyone know? How long has this been going on? My arms wrap even tighter as the questions pour through me. We’re left with nothing but the noise of the TV. The yelling seems to have stopped. We sit. We wait. And wait. My face is still pressed into his back, and our arms and hands are laced together across his stomach. Shawn turns sideways to face me. “This isn’t like, normal or anything, okay?” But his face looks broken. “Okay.” I pull on him until he’s close enough so I can kiss his cheek. And as much as my heart aches for him, I’m also relieved there’s an explanation for his weird behavior. Because this is it. This has to be it. Who wouldn’t be stressed with something like this going on in their world? “He just gets moody once in a while.” He shakes his head and attempts a smile. I guess we’re making light of it. Okay. “Kinda like his son,

huh?” I tease. His brows pull down and his jaw flexes. “I’m not like my dad.” My heart jumps again, but I know I just need to sound relaxed. “I always thought your dad was pretty cool.” I shrug. “Everyone has off days.” Not like the yelling man in the next room, but I keep that to myself. Maybe if I can play this off as ‘no-big deal,’ it won’t be. With the look on Shawn’s face, I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants. “Please don’t say anything.” He rests his forehead against mine and runs a hand over my head and down my back. I tilt my head to press our lips together. “Love you, Shawn.” This is all so foreign, and real. But if I can pretend that it’s okay, maybe Shawn can too. I’ll just need to work a little harder to make sure his life away from all this is as relaxed as possible. “Love you.” His arms come around me, almost crushing me against him. But what am I supposed to do with this information? It’s like I’ll burst if I can’t tell someone, but I know I can’t. Not right now. And then another thought hits me. Is he this way with Shawn? What does he mean by not normal ? Does it happen often? Does he stop at yelling? I’m not sure about any of it, but I know it makes me scared. I was scared, and I sat with Shawn in front of me behind a locked door. What’s it like when he’s here by himself?

*** Mindy and I sit on the very pink, plush floor of her room, the music hopefully loud enough to drown out our voices so her parents won’t hear. “I have an unexpected first to add to the notebook,” Mindy announces. My eyebrows rise. “Did you sleep with a wrestler? Because I don’t think our book needs to be a play-by-play of our romantic encounters.” I smirk. “And yours would be almost empty.” She smirks back. I look down. Weight settles in my chest. From Shawn I get the teasing. But from Mindy? “Crap, Ronnie. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it.” She bumps my shoulder with hers. “It’s true. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I’m sure I’m just being stupid and overly romantic about the whole thing. She bites her lip as if she’s about to say something, but keeps it to herself. I’m relieved. “Your first…?” Time to get back to Mindy. “Made out in the boy’s locker room.” She giggles. Giggling. That’s good. Better than me thinking about Shawn’s dad, or how weird I must be for not wanting to have sex with my boyfriend. “Doesn’t it smell in there?” I ask. Not to mention no privacy, and just…gross. And as crazy as it is, I’m actually preferring to think about the smelly boys’ locker room than our last topic. “Why yes it does.” She laughs. “He grabbed me and dragged me in there after school, both of us were laughing,

and then it was like we were alone in this room and we weren’t laughing anymore, and it makes me all happy just to think about it.” “Great, Mindy.” I shake my head, partially feeling like I just indulged a five year old with their favorite snack. “You can add it.” “I will.” She sits up tall and smug, taking the notebook from my grasp. “Nothing for me.” I sigh, yet another weight settling on me. “Like always.” I certainly can’t add in my night with Shawn and his screaming father. It’s still too crazy. Heavy. “I didn’t mean it, Ronnie. I just…if you’ve been together this long and you don’t really want to, what does that say?” “That I’m really cautious? That I’m just not ready?” I offer. What does it say? Am I that strange? Different? Will we get to a point where Shawn gets tired of waiting? Then I take a deep breath in, sliding my fingers over the bracelet he gave me the night he moved back. No. And this is the awesome part of being with someone like him. We’re solid. He loves me. Everything we do will happen when we both want it to. Shawn and I have forever. *** I step into the school’s theater for my first day of rehearsal. A sea of blue theater chairs fan out in front of me toward the stage. The soft yellow stage lights are on, reflecting only slightly on the black stage. My eyes scan the group already congregated. I

recognize most of the people here, but not all. Like most of the time I’m in a long dress, and the fabric swishes around my ankles as I hold it up to climb onto the stage. I stare at my feet and then at the lights above, mostly because I’m not sure where I should be, and don’t want to sit in the wrong spot or next to the wrong person, or… “Ronnie.” Luke grins and waves me over. I take the spot next to him as Blackman walks the room, handing us each a script. I’ve already read and re-read the play, but this is the edited version. Shakespeare’s version is too long for a high school play. “We’ll be performing this in the correct dress of the day, per Master William’s instructions.” He gives us all a smile. He’s a tall thin man, like a string bean, but when he’s on the stage, like he is now, he looks even taller and thinner. He sports a small mustache—giving him the nickname Hitler— even though he’s one of the nicest teachers in school. “Let’s find a comfy spot, circle up, and do a readthrough.” He drops to a cross-legged sitting position, and we all follow suit forming a wobbly large circle on the wellworn, black painted boards of the stage. Again, the number of blue seats stretching outward from the stage hollows out my chest, making me afraid of the staring faces that will occupy them—even though the chances of me actually doing any performing are slim. It’s imposing but also powerful—even though no one’s here. He asks us to announce our roles one at a time. Luke is Romeo and Liesl is Juliet. Liesl’s a pretty, round-faced girl, with smooth blonde hair. Everyone knows her, because she

does everything—student government, sports, theater, choir. The list is long. She and Luke will look great together. I wonder if she’ll be his next girlfriend. Each person gives their name and role, or job. A lot of them are here to help with costumes, sets, lighting, stage manager…things that I hadn’t given much thought to before now. I think only half are acting. This is somehow unexpected. Mr. Blackman chuckles. “That was fun. Luke and Liesl? You two both know the rules for playing opposite each other.” The group immediately breaks out into whispers. I’m lost, but the tension is thick, and I lean forward in anticipation. Luke’s cheeks begin to glow in this pinkish red color, which is something I’ve never seen. I’m biting my lower lip in anticipation. Luke sighs and lets his shoulders slump, but anyone could see he’s teasing. Liesl moves to sit in front of him like an old pro. Guess she knows what to expect. He leans forward, touches the bottom of her chin with his fingertips and kisses her softly, with a slight hesitation, right on the mouth. Shivers run down my spine—I wonder what it was like to be on the receiving end of that. I get warm and tingly just sitting next to him. No wonder Luke doesn’t have a hard time getting girls. “Perfect.” Mr. Blackman laughs. “Now you two have kissed, so it won’t slow us down. And you, Ronnie, will get to kiss this fine young man if Liesl backs out.” Mr. Blackman grins over his clipboard.

I make a face at Luke, narrowing my eyes and scrunching my nose. “Well, I’ve already kissed him once and…” ‘Ooohs’ echo from the group. “I’m curious as to who I get to kiss if he backs out?” I fold my arms in front of me, acting way braver than I feel. “That would be…” His finger runs down the list. “Curtis.” Curtis offers a quick wave at me from across the circle; his cheeks are redder than his hair which is almost, but not quite, as red as mine. “Just curious, thanks.” I try to lean back and let my shoulders fall to show I’m totally relaxed, which I’m not. Kissing was the part of all this that I hadn’t really thought about when I tried out. Should have been obvious, being Romeo and Juliet, and all. *** The read-through pulls me straight into the story—the tingles of first glimpses, the intensity of first kisses, first loves, the desperation of finding a way to be together against all odds. And even though I know the end my breath hitches, and I have to touch the outside of my eyes to stop the tears from escaping for the two lost lovers. Luke chuckles softly as our eyes meet. He rubs his hand a few times across my back, really just making me feel more like a kid who needs protection. But he’s also warm, and his touch calms some of the rawness of emotion. “Get used to it, Ronnie,” he whispers. “They die every

time.” But the thing is, I always hope—each time I read or watch this story. I hope that he sees her wake up before he takes the poison, or that Juliet can somehow save Romeo before taking her own life. And it just never happens. The problem is that when you change Romeo and Juliet’s story it ends up like that ridiculous Taylor Swift song. And that’s not what people love about Romeo and Juliet. When rehearsal is over, I follow Luke up the aisle of the theater and he holds the door open for me, letting me outside. I love having people in my life who I don’t have to ask, or check with because I already know what’ll happen. Luke and I will walk home from rehearsal together. It’s a given. “I can’t believe you remember our kiss.” And for the second time in one day Luke’s cheeks are pink. The dimples he’s trying to hide as he watches his feet on the pavement makes me feel like he might be a bit proud of that moment between us. “It was my first game of spin the bottle. You don’t forget momentous occasions such as that.” I give him a gentle slug to the shoulder. It was my first real party. Luke begged me to come with him; his dad had just left town, and his house was filled with tension. “Guess not.” We walk a few steps in silence. Luke stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Might not want to mention that to Shawn.” Shawn? Why is my chest squeezing in all of the sudden?

My head snaps towards Luke. “I think he knows.” Why would Luke know that would be a big deal? I mean, part of me thinks it wouldn’t be a big deal, but part of me knows that Shawn won’t be happy on the days I have to step into Juliet’s role. Am I just trying too hard to do something that won’t work? “I don’t think he does.” Luke shakes his head. “He didn’t live here that year.” “Right.” Then I definitely won’t bring it up. And suddenly I’m wondering why I was so excited to play Juliet. I’m not sure it’s something Shawn would be comfortable with, and I’m supposed to be lessening the strain on his life, not making it worse. *** Shawn’s still on a late schedule at work. I’m not sure why he doesn’t just change it. His dad owns the place. With my rehearsals after school, and his work schedule, we haven’t seen much of each other this week. As soon as I hear his bike on the road I climb out of bed, again, hoping to spend some time with him. I start my careful routine to get out of my house without getting caught. I stand on the street for longer than normal, part of me wondering if Luke is running around in the middle of the night. He isn’t. It shouldn’t make me feel disappointed. Seeing Luke would just cut into my Shawn time. Now it’s time to go through the careful routine of not

being caught at Shawn’s house. I stop in the front yard, and his dad’s angry voice carries out into the street. I can’t hear the words, but now I’m torn as to whether I move forward, or turn back toward home. My heart pounds in my ears as I slowly circle to the side of the house. I’m scared for me, and scared for Shawn. But what am I supposed to do if things at his house are as out of control as they sound? I can’t help. Maybe this is one of those situations where I should call the cops or something, but that can’t be right. It’s too drastic. It’s just Shawn’s dad, and it is just yelling. I think. I stand and wait for what feels like an hour. The voices finally die down and the noise of the TV gets louder. Shawn appears at the gate. He gives me a thin-lipped smile as he holds it open for me to walk through. I sit in the first chair I can find, arms clutched around my middle, not wanting to be too close to the back door. It’s like there’s this thick, black mood surrounding his house. How can he live here like this? Or maybe I’m just making too much out of nothing. “Hey.” He doesn’t even sit next to me on the chair; he takes the lounger across from me. “I’m the one risking my neck to see you. You should be a little more grateful,” I try to tease. Anything to help lighten the mood here. Anger flashes across his face and my chest seizes tight as I scoot further away. Now I’m not sure what to do with myself. All of this is so beyond anything I’ve ever been around before. My hands

tuck into my sides as I fold my arms more tightly in front of me, almost like protection. Which is ridiculous. I don’t need protection from Shawn. “I’m sorry.” He lets out a breath. “I just miss you.” He leans forward and brushes his fingers down my cheek. I love this side of him so much that I start to feel guilty about being irritated. “It’s okay.” But my chest and body are tensed, as if waiting for the next round to begin. “Since you’re going to be all busy, I figure you owe me.” Now there’s a smirk on his face. “Owe you?” I try to tease back, just to keep the peace. And this, I can deal with. This is just Shawn, not some weird, tense, confusing situation. “A weekend. You can tell your parents that Mindy’s taking some girls to her parent’s condo. You’ve done that before.” Now he’s so close his breath touches my face. My gut sinks. “Once.” And it was this huge deal and my dad called like fifty million times to make sure we were all okay and behaving ourselves. His hand takes mine and his thumb slides gently over my palm. “Try it, please?” A wave of nerves pass through my core. I know what he’s after, and I don’t know that I’m ready. I wish I could tell him I’m not ready, and then he wouldn’t try, so we could relax and have fun. But we won’t relax which means neither of us will have any fun. “I’ll try.” But the huge lump now swelling my throat to more than twice its normal size makes me wonder if I even have the guts to try.

Maybe between now and then I’ll get up the courage to be with him. I’m sure once I get it over with it won’t be such a big deal. But now I’m all nauseated and have no idea how to bring it up to my parents, what I’ll do if it works, or how spending a weekend together will go when I still don’t think I can be with him the way he wants.

~5~ I’m far enough into the school year that I feel okay skipping, and Mindy never minds some time off. Shawn’s mouth pulls down into a frown when I tell him, so I promise to only be gone an hour or two. His dad freaks out when he’s caught, so it’s just not worth it for him. “So, where we going?” Mindy asks, as we pull out of the school parking lot. “I don’t care. I’d love a smoothie, after that it just doesn’t matter.” I stretch my arms up and touch the roof of her car. It makes me realize how stiff I am. And then I feel guilty for feeling so free when Shawn’s not around. But I do feel free. I really needed this. We stand inside The Smoothie Spot which is filled with moms, babies and expensive-looking strollers this time of day. “What’s goin’ on?” she asks. Too much to explain. I shrug. Her hands go straight to her hips. “Okay, Ronnie? I know something’s going on because this is what you do. You get us together and then you get all quiet because you don’t know how to bring it up.” “Fine.” We grab our enormous cups and walk back out to her car. I both love and hate that she knows me this well. But as soon as I sit down, I mostly love it because words

just start pouring out. “Shawn’s frustrated because we don’t see each other much…” Her eyes roll. And I get her eye roll because Shawn and I are together every minute we can be. “I don’t know why I’m still afraid to have sex. I mean, it’s like I know him, I love him, I want to be with him, it’s just this never-ending pressure and I’m not sure how to deal with it, or if I should deal with it, or if something’s just fundamentally wrong with me…I just wish he’d back off for a while…that it could my idea. That he’d be okay with snuggling on the couch again so we could just be together.” We both slump in Peter Rabbit’s seats. She flicks on the radio. Mindy opens her mouth to talk, but my mouth opens and I just start confessing again. “A few days ago he asked me to say that I’m taking off for a weekend with you so he and I can spend some time together, only I don’t feel like it’s about spending time. I feel like it’s about getting what he wants, and my parents said it was totally okay, but I…” I’m breathing hard and don’t even mean to be. I stop just before talking about his parents fighting. He actually came to my house the other night because his dad was in a bad mood. I have no idea what that must be like. Shawn won’t talk about it, whether it’s normal, or how long it’s been going on. I wonder if it’s something he’s always covered up; it’s just getting harder, like the anger in his house is wearing on him. There’s no way for me to understand that kind of stress. My parents have always gotten along.

“Ronnie?” Her brows go up. “I’ll happily be your cover, but

please don’t do something just because he wants you to, okay? We shouldn’t keep having this conversation. I’m not going to talk you into anything.” “Yeah. Okay.” But I’m starting to wonder if there will ever be a time when I actually feel ready, or if I’ll just need to jump in. “Is he worth the trouble?” she asks. My chest drops. Of course this is what Mindy would say. “I’m overreacting. That’s all.” “Well, you already know I think you’re both crazy for thinking you two will always be together.” Her brows go up as she starts up her car. “I know.” I sigh. Mindy will never understand about Shawn and I because she’s not after that kind of relationship right now, and doesn’t think I should be either. But how would I feel in ten years married to someone else? And Shawn married to someone else? I know exactly how I’d feel. I’d feel like I missed out on having the guy who knows me best. I can’t imagine a life without him. I’ve known him too long. Anyway, the added stress from his dad won’t last forever. It can’t. “Ready to sneak back into school?” “Notebook?” I ask. “We checked it all off the other day, remember?” She takes another long drink of her smoothie. “I think we need more stuff, Ronnie. It seems kind of lame that it’s only a month into the school year and we’ve both already done our

thing.” “You’re right.” “Maybe we should just be better about finding things?” I hear her suck the last bits of drink from her cup. “Yeah, I guess.” Only I have enough stuff making me uncomfortable right now. Theater. Shawn. His angry dad. The whole sex thing. “And if you go on your little weekend trip…” She gives me a ridiculous wiggle of her brows before dropping her cup on the floor of her backseat. “…we’ll have something else to add.” “It’s a good thing no one ever rides with us.” I drop my cup where she dumped hers and it rattles as it hits the empty soda cans, coffee cups, slurpee cups… “No room.” She smirks as we pull back into the student lot. Just as she turns off the car, I spot the truant officer coming our way. Wait. This is perfect. I’ll get suspended. Weekend problem solved. I’m buying time. My heart thumps crazily in my chest. “Get in the back.” “What?” Her eyes widen. “Hide under the crap you have back there. I’ll jump out of the driver’s side and take it.” Why won’t she just do it? “But…” “This solves my weekend problem, okay?” I’m starting to get desperate. There’s a Jeep in our line of sight now, but for how long? Our eyes catch. She gets it. She knows this is my way

out, and normally she’d never let me do this for her, but right now, it’s for me. “I’m so putting this in the book for you, Ronnie.” She giggles as she clambers through a summer’s worth of cups on the floor and grabs a picnic blanket to conceal herself. Clever. “Awesome,” I say, as I climb out and start to walk. My eyes catch his, a new guy this year, and I know I’m busted but she’s safe. And in a weird way, I feel safe now, too. I must be messed in the head if I’m looking for ways to get out of spending a weekend with my boyfriend. ***

I WAS FIFTEEN… …it was the summer of eternal promises and lots of kissing. Mom had been excited for weeks by the time we got to the beach house we were sharing it with the Carsons— which, for me, meant Shawn. After writing all year and having a few phone conversations—and a couple of shared kisses before he left—I was a wreck for weeks before our trip. But as soon as he climbed out of the car, his dark hair in need of a cut and his Hawaiian print shorts slung low on his waist, I almost forgot how nervous I was. He jogged up to me first thing and threw his lanky arms around me. I was taller than him that year, but he didn’t

mind a bit. The second my brother Ben saw us standing so close, he kept a narrowed eye on Shawn. But Shawn didn’t seem to be deterred, and before the sun set on his first night at the house on the beach we had a repeat of our forest kiss —minus the picnic. “Come on,” he whispered, as I put plates away. “They’re all talking. Let’s get out of here.” I didn’t even glance once. I just took his hand and trusted him to lead me out the door. We ran down the hill to the beach and took off running in the wet sand still holding hands, until we came to the small outcropping of rocks, which formed what we always called, “the cove.” We stepped into the water and I stopped as soon as the waves touched my knees. “Don’t you want to go deeper?” he asked. “It’s the rule. From my dad. If there are no parents, you stop at your knees.” I smiled as I looked into the black water. We didn’t always listen to that rule, but there was something about breaking one rule (going to the beach at night without telling anyone) that made me want to follow a different one. “I missed you.” He took my hand and pulled me close, our hands clutched together between us. I opened my mouth to speak, but when his lips touched mine words didn’t matter. His lips parted and we kissed more. It was scary, not like our sweet kiss in the woods, but

I craved more of it. The cool waves tickled the small dent behind my knees, and Shawn’s kisses touched every other part of me. We snuck off any time we got a chance. He bought me cherry shaved ice every day for the whole two weeks and then tried to kiss off the red tint. It never worked, but not for lack of trying. Our last night felt awful, like I was being torn apart from the inside. We sat side by side in the sand, our knees up, and our hands together tightly. His forehead rested against mine, and it felt like the most perfect moment of my life. Shawn’s always been good at being part of those. “I can’t believe this is over.” His voice was barely a whisper. “We can keep writing.” Anything to keep the connection. “I will. I promise I will.” His dark eyes found mine in the dim light. “Me, too.” And then, on the edge of the sand near our wall of rocks, we kissed one another until my lips were sore. Nothing could keep me from crying at our separation but the protection of his arms. *** Dad sighs in his chair, holding my suspension slip and rubbing his forehead with his thumb and pointer finger, like he does when my brother, Ben, or I screw up. Ben doesn’t

have to see it anymore, being so far away in college, but I get a front row seat. But having a purpose for this makes getting in trouble a lot less horrible. Mom’s on the couch, her magazine resting on her legs. “If you wanted part of a day off from school, you should have just said something. We both know I don’t have a problem with you taking time off once in a while.” “Sorry.” I stare at my lap and try to look dejected, even though I’m not all that broken up about it. “Guess this means I miss my girl weekend.” “Oh…” Mom sounds surprised, like she might still let me do it. My breathing stops. I see Dad’s hand come up between he and Mom. “No girl weekend. You’ll have to reschedule.” I nod and bite my lip. Is this good enough? It’s hard to look sad when relief is washing through my body. But Dad’s looking at me. I guess he knows something’s up. Sometimes it really sucks having a shrink for a dad.

*** Mom and Dad leave in the morning as usual. I’m not allowed to go anywhere or have anyone over, but it doesn’t matter. Being alone is starting to feel like exactly what I need. My phone beeps. SHAWN: SORRY I’M NOT THER W U. MY DAD HAD A

BAD DAY AGN YSTRDY. SO SORRY. My chest sinks at the thought of what the past day sounded like from Shawn’s room. SHAWN: ITS OK. WNTD TO C U LST NGHT, THAT’S ALL. SKIPPING W MINDY IS NVR A GOOD IDEA. U WER RGHT. Only he doesn’t know the whole story— how I took the fall for her. He’d really be upset with me. It sucks that his parents are still arguing. SHAWN: STIL WISH I WS THER NO BIGGIE. I’LL PRTND SHAWN: HOW DOES THAT WRK? I’LL PRETEND U’R LYING ON ME AS I WTCH A MOV, OR THAT I’M LYING ON U. OR THAT U’R BEHIND ME. OR THAT I’M NXT TO U. SHAWN: YOU CAN’T TURN ME ON LIKE THAT. I’M IN CLASS. IT’S EMBARR. My cheeks heat up. How can he just talk about that? There’s a knock right before my front door flies open. “Ronnie? I’m here for movies!” Crap. It’s Luke, which shouldn’t be a big deal. But Shawn isn’t here, and tension creeps in as I figure out what to do. Or if something even needs to be done. I start to hit ‘end’ on my phone and then remember we’re not talking, we’re texting. Now I feel like an idiot. “Come on in, Luke!” I call from the living room. This shouldn’t be a big deal. Luke and I spent days together watching movies after his dad left…and a lot of days since then. It’s kind of what Luke and I do when we hang out. “I figured Shawn’d be here,” he says, as his lean frame

fills the doorway. “You know how crazy and anal his dad is. He never lets him miss, and he’s watching for it cause he knows I’m suspended.” And his dad has turned into an angry, angry man that I wouldn’t want to cross. A shiver runs up my back as I think about sitting in Shawn’s room while his dad yelled. I start typing again. WILL STOP TRNG U ON. SEE U WHN U CN MAK IT. MY DAD GETS HOME LT TDY, SO I’D LIKE TO C U IF U HAVE TIME BFRE WRK. “Shawn?” Luke asks, pointing to my phone. “Yep.” I smile. But my heart beats a little harder at the fact that Luke and I are alone together. I guess it’s just been a while, ever since Shawn moved back months ago. SHAWN: U CAN’T HELP TURNING ME ON. WILL SEE U SCNDS AFTR SCHL GETS OUT. LOVE U. LUV U. I stand up off the couch, suddenly needing to move. Shawn talking about me turning him on, and Luke and I being in my house alone, makes me feel like I’m pinned down. Today Luke’s in a Scooby-Doo t-shirt and another pair of beat-up shorts. Right. This is my good friend and there‘s nothing wrong with him hanging with me today. “How old are you?” I poke Scooby’s head, which happens to be covering Luke’s chest. I suddenly jerk my hand away. But why would it matter if I touched Luke’s

chest? And why did I even notice that I touched Luke’s chest? “Just old enough to make this look cool,” he teases. I give him a good eye roll, it seems like the best way to make sure that we’re still on comfortable ‘friend level’ here, even though I’m feeling all sorts of crazy with him here. “Mindy said you took the hit for her.” He sits down with his handful of movies. “Yeah. She’s a good friend. Now she’ll owe me one.” But my eyes wander around the room, at Dad’s new TV, the slider door into the backyard, everywhere but at him. Luke knows me too well, and this isn’t something I can talk about with him. “I think there’s more going on.” Why does he have to be so perceptive? I open my mouth to tell him everything about Shawn and the weekend and going further, but it’s Luke, he’s a guy. He won’t get it. “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me.” He smirks. “I brought every version of Romeo and Juliet I could find. Sound cool?” I let out the breath I didn’t know I held, totally thankful that Luke doesn’t see the need to push things. “Actually, yeah.” I nod. “I’ll make popcorn.” And get out of this room for a

moment to get my head on straight. “Oh.” He knows what popcorn is at this house. My mom is a practical popcorn gourmet. “Can you do the chocolate stuff?” he asks. “Yes, I can.” I yell from the kitchen. “You’re in charge of

setting up the TV. I don’t get my dad’s new system.” “I got it,” he calls. Really, Luke is like one step up from hanging with the ‘girls.’ Right. I take a few more breaths, as I dump the kernels into Mom’s special popcorn pot. He watches girly movies. He’s pals with my folks. I mean, Shawn gets along with them but Luke’ll drop by just to hang with my dad—which, I guess, makes him less like one of the girls. But he’s as easy as one of the girls. Maybe that’s my point. This is okay. I’m okay here. Shawn shouldn’t care. No big deal. *** Luke lounges in Dad’s huge chair; I’m sprawled over the couch and we’re both stuffed with chocolate popcorn. I’m wiping tears at the end of the second movie. Well, it was West Side Story, not Romeo and Juliet, but I’ve wiped each eye over and over again. My chest is heavy from how they were torn apart, but at least Maria’s smart enough not to kill herself at the end. “You need to stop crying at the endings.” He teases, as he stands to stretch. “You know what happens.” “You’re the one who brought them. And it was just two. Anyway, I think I’m done.” I roll onto my back. “I feel like a big wimp, crying like this.” I make one last smear with my palms and suck in a deep breath. Done. “You think deeply. You feel deeply. That’s not something

to be ashamed of.” I glance at him crouched in front of the TV. He watches me with such goodness and friendship in his eyes. I love Luke like a brother, or a cousin, or something. He’s comfortable, like family. Better than the odd tingles from the other night. “Thanks.” He turns back to his task. “Let’s at least watch the beginning of the newest one, okay?” He stuffs the last movie into its case and pulls out the next. “I mean, it’s really not actually new, but it’s the most recent.” “The DiCaprio one, right?” He smiles wide. “With the kick-ass cars and music, that’s the one.” And I do love this one. I love how visual it is. Luke grabs us each another soda and the last bits of chocolate popcorn and sits down on the floor in front of the couch. He leans back and I pat him on the head like my little Luke pet. But the movie starts and before the narrator’s done, I’m absorbed—once again taken in by the language. “Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From

forth the fatal loins of these two foes. A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; Whole misadventures piteous overthrows. Do with their death, bury their parent’s strife.” Each word hits my chest and I know I’ll be crying at the end of this one, too. Luke was right to bring so many versions—so many ways to say each line. My breath catches when Romeo and Juliet smile through the fish tank. LOVE it. Love the costumes. I love the break between

dialogue, and the passion that practically radiates off the screen. Everything. And I know I’m just watching it, but after hearing the lines over and over every day after school I’m also in it. In the story. “We should do that with ours.” I point out. I’m all smiles after watching them jump into the elevator and kiss. “Do what?” He turns his head to see me. “The costume party like this—Romeo as the knight and Juliet as the angel. I think it would be awesome.” Mostly I want to see Liesl all decked out with angel wings. “It would be. I’ll talk to Blackman about it.” Luke thumps his soda can as he drains the last drops from his third Pepsi of the day. My front door opens. “Hello?” Shawn calls. “In here!” I say back. Suddenly this feels weird. Why would this feel weird? This is just what happens when one of us is stuck at home. Why would today be any different? But my heart’s beating against the inside of my ribs, trying to tell me this is different. Luke scoots away from the couch. Does he feel it too? That maybe him and me hanging out alone for the day might not have been the best idea? Shawn steps through the hallway and scowls when his eyes meet mine and then pass to Luke. This shouldn’t be a big deal. Except…I’m so stupid. I was just thinking how I needed to make Shawn’s life outside of his house less stressful, and part of me knew it was weird that Luke was here without Shawn. I thought it, and did nothing. But again,

it is just Luke. “What’re you doing here?” Shawn asks. His dark eyes fix on Luke. “I figured you’d be here, man.” Luke stands up. “It’s like we always ditch together, right?” Romeo and Juliet kissing in the pool on the TV screen probably isn’t helping anything. Maybe Shawn won’t notice, or maybe it’s just sending my heart into crazy flutters because this tension between Shawn and Luke and, I guess, me, is happening during the most romantic scene of the movie. “Uh, I don’t know.” Shawn’s still scowling, his brows pulled low and his jaw tight. “You would’ve hated it,” I say. My eyes catch his, but his are as black as his mood seems to be. I’m so stupid. Why did I have to let Luke stay? “Yeah, maybe.” Shawn’s narrowed eyes go from Luke to me, back and forth, as if judging the situation. Really ? What did he think could possibly happen between Luke and I? Even if this is suddenly on my top three ‘most awkward moments’ ever. I can’t even think about what the other two might be. Maybe I’ve just found number one. “Romeo and Juliet all day.” Luke laughs, but I know him well enough to see he’s trying really hard to be relaxed. His shoulders are too stiff, and his normal stance is too rigid. I wonder if Shawn sees it too. “Guess I’ll leave you two alone.” Luke’s trying hard to keep his voice light. “Yeah.” Shawn has yet to return Luke’s smile. “I almost never see my girl anymore.”

It’s like I’m on the edge of my seat, tension pinpricking every part of me. I’ve never seen Shawn like this. “Well, I should get my ass to rehearsal anyway.” Luke gives Shawn a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading outside. I don’t watch him go. My eyes are on Shawn, trying to figure out what to expect next. “What the hell was that?” His sharp gaze is now pointed directly at me. I stand up and lean to the side, trying to be relaxed. “It didn’t seem like a big deal this morning.” Maybe if I play it off as nothing Shawn won’t be so mad. He knows Luke and I are friends. No big deal, I tell myself again. But I don’t know if I’m trying to convince myself or Shawn. “Was he here when we were texting?” he asks. His voice may be low, but not in a good way. It’s low in a way that makes him sound like he’s past the edge of reasonable anger. My body’s screaming for me to take a step back, which makes no sense. This is Shawn. My Shawn. “No.” But I’m weakening by the second, almost shaking inside. His jaw tightens again. My eyes close as I remember, and dread fills my chest. “He got here as I sent my last one.” Is that bad? Good? “And you didn’t think to tell me? What the hell is that?” I jump at the sharpness of his voice. Shawn doesn’t need this stress. I know this. I reach forward to put my arms around him. We just need to hold one another for a minute,

then it’ll all be fine. He stops me, grabbing my arm—hard—just above my wrist. “This is not okay.” His jaw is set. “Hey.” My voice shakes. My body shakes. I’m actually scared of Shawn for the first time ever. I jerk my hand once, but he tightens his grip…impossibly tight. My lungs can’t pull in a breath; there’s just not enough air in the room anymore. “Shawn, you’re hurting me.” He can’t mean to hurt me. He can’t. His face is stuck in a sharp scowl. “He’s your friend.” My voice is crying. I want to try and pull my shaky arm out of his grasp again, but I’m afraid to; he’s squeezing so hard. Tears are hot against the back of my eyes, threatening to spill over. “How would you feel if I spent all day with some chick?” The words come out as angry spit from between his teeth. I open my mouth to answer but can’t, the lump in my throat has taken over. All I can think about is that I need to find something to say so he’ll let me go. Some way to get the air through my throat to form words. “It’s just Luke,” I plead, sucking in a breath. “Whatever.” He throws my arm back at me, turns, and walks out the door, slamming it hard behind him. My body jumps at the sound. I stumble backward onto the couch. I’m like a leaf battered about in the wind. Nothing’s working right. I need to sit. Normally I’d run after him, but I have no idea what to

expect. And I’m afraid. Of Shawn. He’s never been that way before. Ever. He’s moody and particular, but this seems…extreme. I’m cradling my wrist with my other hand, afraid to look at any possible damage. It hurts to move it. What just happened here? How did it happen? It’s like there suddenly must be something fundamentally wrong with the universe. But the TV’s still on. My house looks normal and quiet. I’m still breathing, but Shawn, my Shawn, just hurt me. Lying down seems so anti-climactic, but I can’t bring myself to do anything else. When Juliet realizes Romeo’s dying the sobs take over, and I pull my knees to my chest as if making myself smaller will somehow dull the pain. It doesn’t.

~6~ I put on a hoodie to hide the ice I have on my wrist, then I lie in bed and read. Normally I’d have my script out, but after a whole day of Romeo and Juliet, I’m done. I really need to find something to keep my brain busy. Thinking about my day with Luke and Shawn’s horrific reaction, won’t change how I screwed up by hanging out with Luke all day. “Ronnie?” Dad knocks on my door. “Yep.” I let the book lie on my arm. Maybe it’ll mask the ice better than the hoodie does. He opens the door and steps inside. It’s always sort of funny to see Dad in my turquoise room. It’s a pretty girly room and he looks displaced, like an alien or something. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asks. “Sure.” I don’t move. I’m not sure how to keep all my ice, hoodie, and book in place if I do, but I have to keep him from seeing. He won’t understand—he won’t realize the stress that Shawn must be under for this to happen. Actually, this leads me to the problem of Dad saying we need to talk. It’s generally because he’s noticed things that I really don’t want to discuss. He sits in my small, white wicker chair. Again. Alien. In the wrong world. “You were driving Mindy’s car yesterday when you skipped?” he asks.

“What?” Even though I know I was driving her car, I’m just trying to figure out where he’s going with this so she doesn’t get in trouble. I swallow down the small lump forming in my throat. His face tilts down. He knows I heard him. “She let me borrow it.” Seems safe enough. “So.” He sits back again. “Mindy let you borrow her car so you could skip. And you skipped by yourself?” His fingers rub his chin like I imagine he does with his patients. He’s watching me too carefully. I force my breathing to remain the same. “Yep.” “Why?” The crinkles around his eyes are really starting to show. A combination of age and suspicion. “What?” Again, answering a question with a question gives me thinking time. The problem is Dad knows this trick. Again, his stern look. Okay, the best way to deal with my dad is by being as honest as possible. “I don’t know, Dad. Don’t you sometimes have an off day?” I ask. “We all do.” He nods. “I’m just concerned there’s more going on here, that’s all.” “I just…I just wanted out of school. Next time I’ll call. I knew I’d get caught without a car, and Mindy didn’t mind letting me use hers…” I do a half shrug as I lie on my side. Looking relaxed is always good. “I won’t tell her parents if she was with you, but if she was, and you took the fall alone, it makes me wonder why. I also wonder why, if you were alone, you bothered to skip at all. If

you took the fall and let Shawn hide, that’s completely not okay. And you don’t seem nearly as upset about your weekend as I would have guessed, so I’m kind of wondering what’s going on with that as well.” Dad’s brown eyes stare into my darker ones. He’s pretty much hit on everything—aside from my disastrous day today. The signs of that incident are hiding under a book, a pile of ice, my hoodie, and what I hope is a perfectly neutral expression. “Dad, I think your job as a shrink is bleeding into your role as my father. And honestly.” I smirk. “I’m a little concerned.” Ha! Diversion. That should be good. He smiles. “Fine. But I’m worried about you. I’m not a shrink, I’m a therapist. And please, please, if something’s going on let me or your mother know, okay?” He stands up, his eyes still on me, waiting for a response. “Okay.” I give him what I hope is another relaxed, reassuring smile as he steps out of my room. Then I allow myself to flop back over. Talk to my mother? Funny. As much as I love my mom, she doesn’t notice things, not the way they really are. I sometimes wonder if she wanted to be a mom, or if it was really my dad who pushed to have kids. She loves me, I know this, so I’m not bothered. She just somehow doesn’t fit the mother stereotype I have in my head. The other thing is that if I did talk, all they’d do is overreact. No one wants to hear about their little girl trying to come up with the courage to have sex. And both of them would freak if they knew what happened with Shawn today.

I’m still sort of freaked about it. Even though I know it was a total fluke. It has to be. *** The bruise just above my wrist is a startling rainbow of purple and blue, and shots of pain go up my arm as I turn my hand. My chest aches at the thought of Shawn so angry, and I have to blink back tears. If I didn’t have a bruise to prove it, I might not believe Shawn could do something like this. He hurt me. The Shawn who loves me, hurt me. I run my good hand through my dresser drawers, throwing everything onto my bed in frustration. Now I’m on the floor, and searching the depths of my closet. I jerk out an old white, long sleeved tee. It’s like I’m suddenly in someone else’s life, in desperate need of distraction. I slide on my shirt, making sure the sleeves are long enough for my lanky arms. When I check the mirror my eyes are only slightly red. I suck in a deep breath. Okay. I can do this. I hoist my bag carefully onto my shoulders. My wrist isn’t broken because I can move my hand, but he held on a lot tighter than I thought he did when it happened. I’m not sure where we stand right now. We didn’t talk or text after he left last night. When I open my front door Shawn’s standing there, quiet, with his hands in his pockets. Waiting. I suck in a breath. My heart is fluttering and my mind is uncertain. His eyes are soft, sad, and sorry. And I’m more shocked

than mad, really. Maybe everything yesterday caught us both by surprise. Seeing his apologetic face begins to melt my leftover frustration and fear. The silence between us feels like an apology—he’s not even trying to defend himself. “Hey.” I test the waters first. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes catch mine. His breathing sounds off as he stares at the ground. I reach out to him. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” And I’m not sure if I mean it or not, but I really want Shawn and I to be back to normal. His hand touches my wrist and I wince, both in fear of his reaction and because it’s still that sensitive. Maybe I should have gone for the hoodie so I could have used more ice today. His brows come together. His fingers hold mine gently as he turns my hand palm up and tugs at my sleeve. My heart hits hard, what will he think? The bruise is a sharp contrast against the white of my shirt and pale skin. His hand covers his mouth as he lets go of my fingers. “Oh, God.” He leans over, resting his hands on his knees, and part of me thinks he might pass out or throw up. Just when I start to move toward him, he stands up straight. “Ronnie.” His fingertips slide along my cheek, through my hair. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe…” He wipes a tear from my cheek before I realize I’m crying. I don’t know who hugs who first, but I’m wrapped up in his arms in a way that makes me want to stay wrapped

up in his arms forever. My chin rests on his shoulder and his rests on mine as we just hold each other. I close my eyes and squeeze tighter. This is the closeness we sort of lost with the beginning of the school year. The kind of closeness that makes me feel like I’m melting into him, into his warmth, and the way I know he loves me. “I’m so sorry. My dad’s been extra crazy with work, and I’ve been stressed and worried…” His hands run through my hair over and over. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m fine.” My body relaxes deeply against him, and I start to see how tense we’ve been since school started. Now that the tension is gone, I know that anything would be worth having Shawn back this way. The way Shawn and I are supposed to be.

~7~ Mindy and I sit in the dark blue theater seats in the middle of the auditorium. From here we have a view of the stage, but are still just on the edge of the dim light. I’m not generally needed for much, but I continue to come and watch. It’s part of my “thing” for the year, so it seems like I should be here. It’s been days since Shawn and I argued, but my wrist is still mottled in black and blue, and the stiffness is still making everyday stuff like carrying my backpack a pain in the butt. “Aren’t you hot?” She grabs at my long-sleeves. “Nope.” I fold my arms, keeping my wrist protected. I know she won’t understand. I don’t understand. I only know how rough his life must be for something so drastic to happen between us. “Okay.” She reaches into her pack and pulls out our notebook. She should not be bringing that to school. “So, you and Paul.” I lean in. “It’s still pretty awesome, huh?” “It’s still awesome.” She grins. “How are you and Shawn?” “So, so good.” Ever since our argument he’s met me in the mornings, and changed his work schedule. He’s been at my house every evening, even though I know my dad

makes him nervous. Things have been pretty perfect, and that’s what I need to focus on. “He’s sometimes moody, that’s all.” She slouches lower in her seat, resting her head against the back. I shrug. “I guess.” I don’t want to think of Shawn as moody —even though I already call him moody. He’s so easy and fun when he wants to be. I guess I now wish he could find a way to keep that part of him around all the time. “Anything to add?” she asks. To add to our list of firsts? Those words prick at me, at my heart, my conscience. It takes everything I have to not react. I should tell her. Right now. I should tell her about Shawn and I and our argument. I could write something that would make me feel better. I could say— was physically hurt by a boy for the first and last time. Ever. Instead I shake my head. Easier. Better. “Well, crap, me either. We’re gonna have to do something craa-zee.” She laughs. Luke jogs up. “What are we discussing way up here?” He puts his knees on a chair in front of us and leans over the back. A Phineas and Ferb t-shirt today. Only Luke. “Girl stuff. Things Ronnie and I must be alone for.” Mindy relaxes her head onto my shoulder. “Ronnie.” Luke’s shoulders relax and he tilts his head to the side. “It’s short for Veronica, right? I can’t believe I’ve known you for this long and never thought about it.” Oh no. I freeze, stop breathing, and don’t answer. Mindy laughs. “Don’t,” I warn, as I turn and point my finger at her chest.

“Oh come on, it’s just Luke.” She pushes my finger away with a smile. Luke rests his chin on his hands, looking like the goofy guy he can be. “Please?” He bats his long lashes at us and I know she’ll cave. I’m caving right now. Mindy and I exchange glances. She won’t say if I don’t want her to, but I’m not going to stop her, not with Luke leaning over the chair at us like this—knowing he’ll eventually get his way. “You’re shameless,” I say. He smiles wide and leans toward Mindy, chin resting on his hands in rapt attention. “So there’s a whole little story, are you ready for it?” Her head turns from me to Luke. I let out a dramatic sigh and slump in my seat, but it doesn’t matter. Not with Luke. I’m sort of amazed he hasn’t put it together himself. “Ready.” He makes another show of wiggling his body back and forth—settling in to listen. “Her dad named her brother Ben, after him. So her mom named her—” “Rhonda.” Luke grins. “Yep, Rhonda, after her.” Mindy sits up tall as if saying this silly little story makes her important. “Which is why Ronnie is the only name on everything, including my driver’s license. Everything but my birth certificate,” I say. And actually, it’s not much of a story. Just a silly family thing.

“I see.” He nods. “It’s not that bad.” “Whatever, Luke.” I roll my eyes. “No Liesl today.” Blackman’s voice booms. “We’ll need Ronnie to step in.” “Oh.” I lose the air from my lungs. This is the first time Liesl has missed, which amazes me. I’m still not sure how she juggles all that she does. “Well,” Mindy says. “Guess I get to watch instead of hanging with you.” “I’m sorry.” I stand, chest tightening and palms already damp from nerves. Why did I think this would be a good idea, again? On stage? Me? Speaking Shakespearean in front of this wide ocean of blue seats? Luke wags his brows. “Kiss ya later.” He spins and jogs to the stage. “I swear, he’s such a flirt.” I shake my head. “Well.” Her eyes widen. “Enjoy being that close to him.” Luke? Whatever. Why would I care about Luke when I have Shawn? And close to Luke? Not a good idea; not with Shawn’s reaction the other day. Fortunately, this is different. This is theater. I’m okay. This is okay. And again, I’m probably just trying to convince myself. “I heard he and Aubrey slept together last weekend,” she whispers. “Really?” My brows go up and a ping hits my chest. They’ve only gone out a few times. I figured Luke would say something if he was seeing somebody. “Well, that’s Luke for ya.” I smirk, and follow him to the stage. As soon as we start, I realize I know the lines. I even

know where I’m supposed to stand. It takes me a second to find my spot because I’ve never done it before, but I know it well enough to give it a good attempt. And then we get to the party scene. My heart stops.

Kiss ya later. Right. I start to shake my hands to relieve tension, but my wrist is too sore. Okay. It’s okay. I can do this. No big deal, right? Its just Luke. Silly, goofy, friend Luke. But my heart’s pounding as the sound professionals mess with the music and the extras in the scene all try to find their spots. And me. I’m standing on the X that I know I’m supposed to be on for the first time Juliet sees Romeo, and I’m staring at Luke. He’s laughing with his group, and there’s this lump in my throat that’s getting bigger and bigger as the moment with us together creeps closer and closer. My heart pounds even harder when his eyes catch mine across the crowd of people pretending to party onstage. But it’s okay. Because right now I’m Juliet and he’s Romeo, and he’s supposed to be looking at me like this. Like he wants to kiss me. Isn’t that the point? But still I can’t breathe and barely manage to move forward. And then my heart starts pounding for real—guess it was just fluttering before. I think about the kiss he gave Liesl—so soft, so careful— his fingertips just touching her soft chin. Is that what he’ll do? What it’ll be like? Am I looking forward to this? To kissing him? Or am I that far into the role? I’m not sure. How

do I tell? Do I need to know? We’re standing close now; so close I can feel his warmth. I have no idea what my next line is. “I think that’s good for today,” Mr. Blackman calls. “No point in finishing this scene without the real Juliet.” My body jerks at the sound of Blackman’s voice, but I’m sort of locked into Luke/Romeo’s eyes with no excuse to not look away. Mindy’s here. Watching. I force my eyes away to stare at the floor, but now my head’s almost touching Luke’s chest because he hasn’t moved either. What’s going on with me? It’s just a stupid play, and just Luke. I look up just in time to see Mindy blow me a kiss as Paul and his broad shoulders lead her out of the theater. Now I’ll be walking home. Alone. With Luke. Hoping to let the tension go, I take a few more deep breaths. Will it always be like this when I’m onstage with him? Will it just take a moment to shake off Juliet when we finish each day? This is just what acting is. It has to be. I step away before turning back to him. “Ready?” he asks, offering the normal, relaxed, Luke smile. I guess it was all me. All in my head. That’s good. Perfect, actually. But why do I feel like part of me was just let down by the casual way he’s looking me? *** “I heard a rumor you slept with Aubrey.” I hold my smile in.

That should sidetrack my brain from the thoughts of our lips together. Although I might not want to talk about Luke and girls either. “Where did you hear that?” His eyes are wide. I shrug. He shakes his head. “Yeah.” “Didn’t you and Cris just break up?” I ask. Luke and I are walking toward Shawn’s backyard hoping he’s home from work with the pizza he promised. “Nah.” He shakes his head. “That was like, three weeks ago.” “Right.” I smirk. “And within three weeks you had Aubrey in your bed.” His eyes widen again and he shakes his head. “It was totally her idea and totally unexpected.” I so don’t believe him. “I totally don’t believe you.” “No!” He holds his hands up laughing. “I swear!” “How…” How long have I been with Shawn and still can’t imagine it? “I don’t know if I should tell you.” Now he’s trying to sound all snotty or something, teasing as always. “Really?” I cross my arms, and stare at the printed hem of my dress as we walk. “You won’t believe me.” His voice is serious again, only not serious because there seems to be some teasing tone in almost everything he says. “Try me,” I say. He lets out this long breath that says he really, really isn’t happy about talking to me, but again, teasing is all over his

face. “I mean, we’ve gone out a few times. So last weekend we went to dinner and then she wanted to go to a movie, so we did that too. And then she asked me if we could hang out at my house cause my mom was out of town with my aunt.” He unlatches the gate into Shawn’s backyard so I can walk through. “Are you seriously going to tell me that she seduced you?” I walk backward a few steps to see him better. And why does saying one stupid word—seduced—make me blush? “I totally am.” He’s smiling and there’s enough disbelief on his face for me to believe him. “We ended up in my room and she even had condoms in her purse.” “You, Luke, are such a whore!” I laugh and flop back onto a lounge chair, which loosens some of the weirdness that’s built up while he talked about Aubrey. “Whatever.” There’s a long pause. I slide down low, closing my eyes. “It kinda freaked me out, you know? I’d only ever been with Cris.” His voice sounds so small. What ? He’s being serious. “Are you serious?” “Yes, I’m serious.” His eyes are wide. It’s so odd. “You just had that whole ‘Luke the wild guy’ thing, and went through kind of a—” “Crazy time, or whatever after my dad. I know.” He shrugs. “But that involved more drugs than girls.” “Oh.” This is the part of Luke I don’t know well. “Aren’t you hot?” He grabs the bottom of my long-sleeve

t-shirt. “Nope,” I lie as I jerk my hand back. My bruise isn’t gone yet, and I don’t need any questions. “Whatever.” It’s just a stupid shirt, why would he care? But I open my mouth and know I could say something. Of everyone I know, he’s the one who’s most likely to understand. The words start to come, but I can’t. Can’t do it. “Why does Shawn always have to be running late?” He checks his watch. I shrug. But Shawn is always running late. My mind starts working on that, it’s always been a part of Shawn, but he’s so meticulous about other things that it’s kind of odd that punctuality isn’t one of them. “Doesn’t it make you crazy?” “I’m used to it.” I cross my legs, pulling up my dress to cool myself off. “And you’re not hot?” He gives me this ‘lips-pressed together’ look of disbelief. I close my eyes to try and relax under the heat of the sun. He lies back on his lounge chair. The breeze ruffles the pool. “So, I think Aubrey and I might go out again.” “You should see how far you could get if you just took her to Taco Bell,” I tease. Anything to keep the topic off me. “Very funny.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you want more than that?” I ask. Luke is so nice, yet it’s like the nice girls are sort of afraid of him. “Actually, yeah. I do.” He sits up, leans forward, and looks at me. “Don’t you?” The tease is absent from his voice.

“Don’t I what?” But my heart’s pounding, and I think he might know something, or guesses something about Shawn and I, and how moody he can be. But Shawn wouldn’t have told him about the other night, grabbing my wrist, would he? “Don’t you want something more?” Luke’s voice is quiet and hits my core in a way that vibrates my soul. There should be some sort of smart thing I could say back to him, but I have no idea what it would be. Our eyes meet again and my breath catches. “Your eyes are amazing,” he says. “The brown is so deep.” His face is unreadable, but his gaze sends a clear message.

I like looking at you. It’s so simple. So Luke. There’s electricity between us that totally shouldn’t be here. Maybe I wasn’t imagining how he looked at me on stage. Maybe it was more than Shakespeare’s heart on the page. I slump and let the tension go, closing my eyes to his. Not me. Not with Luke. “Well don’t you two look cozy!” Shawn’s voice booms across the yard. “’Bout time you showed up, asshole.” Luke jumps off his chair without a glance back at me. He’s either saving my butt, or that moment was imagined. Either way it’s going to take my heart a moment to slow down. We spend the night listening to music in the backyard.

We eat pizza. We laugh. We complain about our homework, and we’re all back to normal. Shawn smiles and touches me like everything’s still perfect. So I guess it must be.

~8~ Dad and I sit in front of the TV for dinner, watching some special on China. With each word the narrator says and each horrific picture that appears, my problems are starting to feel small, that’s for sure. My phone beeps. SHAWN: WON’T MAKE IT TNGHT EVRYTHNG OK? I’m bummed, we were going to study together, which generally means we were going to make out by the pool for a while. SHAWN: FINE. JUST GOT BUSY AT WORK. DAD NEEDS STUFF DONE BFR WE GO HOME. MISS U. HOPE ALL OK. His dad needs stuff done? The sinking feeling in my gut makes my hope that Shawn’s dad exercises a little more self-control at work than he seems to at home, disappears. I wish I knew how to help. “Your mom will be late coming home from the library.” Dad’s voice brings me back into the room. Funny how he thinks he needs to explain her absence. “Oh.” I take another bite of stir-fry. The TV’s showing footage over the Yangtze River right now, and it all looks so brutal and amazing. “How’s school going?” I hear him take another bite. “If you want to ask me something, Dad, just ask. You

know how I hate the lead-up.” I push out a sigh, so he knows how annoying it is. He mimics my sigh with a smile. “You’re the shrink.” And I hate dancing around whatever he actually wants to talk about. “Therapist.” He sets down his fork. “I was just wondering how Shawn’s parents are doing.” “What do you mean?” Only I know what he’s asking, and I suddenly feel naked. Will he know if I lie or play down the circumstances? Dad shrugs. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen his dad in a while, and his mom seems extra jumpy. We haven’t all gotten together for dinner in a long time.” “Ask Mom.” I turn back to the TV, but Dad’s still looking at me and I know him well enough to know he’s waiting for me to return his gaze. I’m too afraid he’ll see through me, he’ll know about the angry guy a few houses down, know his son’s struggle with me; he‘ll figure out that Shawn grabbed me, even though he didn’t mean to. “I have.” His words come out slow, and I know he’s watching me for some sign. “Shawn hasn’t said anything. I know he and his dad have been working long hours and…” And I promised I wouldn’t say anything. “Just curious, that’s all.” Dad leans back in his chair and takes another bite of dinner. His eyes are back on the program. Guess that’s it. Only Dad wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t thinking about something. I’m going to have to be

careful about how I act around Dad. Well, and around Shawn, too. Oh, right. And after play practice, I might need to be careful around Luke. And Mindy doesn’t know anything about Shawn’s outburst either, so I need to keep quiet around her as well. Maybe I should just go into hiding for a while. ***

WHEN I WAS FIFTEEN… …my brother, Ben, who irritated me to death, left for college. The house felt so empty. Dad always worked long hours, still does. Mom had just sold her first book and was obsessively at her computer day and night. It all just felt too still. I called Shawn. We didn’t talk often, but we talked sometimes. His phone rang and rang and I sat on my end looking forward to the smooth sound of his voice, even if I just got his voicemail. A girl answered, giggling hysterically, and I could hear him in the background laughing. “Seriously! Give it me to me! Hand me the phone! “Hello?” he answered out of breath. I sat silent on the other end. We’d never talked about seeing other people. We wrote, we talked, and I just assumed. I took dates to dances and went out with groups, but I didn’t have boys over in that way. Ever. Just Luke for our movie days.

“Hello?” he asked again. “It’s me.” My heart thudded loud in my ears. What was I

supposed to say? “Hey.” His voice had the same excited quality it always had. “I called to—” But I heard a rustle on his end, “ouch,” and then the phone dropped. “Stop! That’s the girl I’m in love with!” But he laughed so hard that I wouldn’t have believed him if I’d been sitting in the room with him. The line went dead and I nearly threw up on my comforter. My stomach folded into itself and I felt empty until he called the next day to apologize. It was a half-apology because we hadn’t talked about dating other people. And because we hadn’t talked, he was right. He really hadn’t done anything wrong. *** I barely recognize Shawn’s face set in a scowl that hangs somewhere in between irritation and anger. My stomach drops. What could have happened? Everything’s been so good. “I just need a few minutes, Ronnie.” Shawn’s fingers tighten on mine as he leads me through the student parking lot to his mom’s car. “I’m coming.” I try to keep my voice light, even though my fingers are starting to throb from the force he’s using. My pulse is loud in my ears, and the noises of students and

cars fade into the background as I struggle to keep up without running.

What do I do? This Shawn is one I don’t know. Maybe something more than I understand is going on in his family, like Dad said last night. After how sorry he was last time, I know he would never hurt me again—not on purpose. But what is this then? Because my fingers are really starting to hurt. He jerks open the passenger’s door and flexes his jaw, his lips pressed tight, as he waits for me to get in. I pause, instinct kicking in. Get in or run? No. No running. He may be angry, but this is still my Shawn. I sit down and have to grab two handfuls of dress before I get it in behind me—my hands shake too hard to move any faster. “You and your hippie dresses.” He sighs before he closes the door. Each step he takes around the car happens way faster than I want it to. I need time to slow down, so I can think about what needs to be said. There has to be something I can say or do to make whatever this is better. As soon as he opens his side I lean towards him, smiling. Diffuse, right? It’s all I can think of to do, even though part of me still wants to run. “What’s up? Looking for something before I head inside?” I hope he catches the double meaning in my words. It’s my last ditch effort for him to drop whatever has him so mad. Now that we’re in his car, it’s like he’s less scary. I have

no idea why. Maybe because sitting in his mom’s car is so normal. Maybe he just needs to talk. Maybe he and his dad got in a fight last night or something, and he just couldn’t say anything about it in school. His eyes meet mine. I still can’t read him. I reach my hand out to touch his face, or his neck, to run my hand through his hair, but he catches my wrist, hard. I lose my breath, and my heart sprints. Maybe I should’ve run. “What’s going on?” My voice is shaking and I really, really don’t want my voice to shake. He squeezes harder. “Why don’t you ask Curtis?” “Who?” Curtis? “Some kid who says he might get a chance to kiss you because of drama.” He spits out the words and his jaw flexes in anger. My chest drops. I should have jerked away and headed back to the school, but what would that say about me? That I run away just because my boyfriend’s mad? “It’s probably a joke, Shawn. Luke and Liesl have to kiss because they’re playing opposite each other,” I explain. And now I remember who Curtis is; he’s the understudy for Luke. Okay. That’s good. I’m moving forward at least. His hand clenches harder. “And what happens if she doesn’t do it?” I’m shaking. My eyes scan the nearly empty lot, no help here. “Honestly, that’ll never happen, and even if it did, you were sorta right. They don’t really need me. They gave me kind of a nothing job.” I need to not cry. I blink over and over, anything to keep tears from flowing. I can’t believe this is

my Shawn. The throbbing is more than just my wrist—it pulses through my heart, through my head, leaving black holes in everything I think and feel. “So why don’t you come hang with me?” he asks. His grip is finally loosening. “I’m expected today.” Mostly I need out of here and away from you. Just for right now. Guilt washes through me. I know that at any time some of this frustration he’s holding onto will disappear, and things will go back to normal. We had normal yesterday. We’ve had normal for a while, and I know from the last time that he’ll be okay tomorrow. More than okay, better than okay. We’ll be close again the way I love. I do my very best to push the guilt of needing to be away from Shawn as far down as I can. “Fine.” He lets go of me and sits back. “Go.” His eyes widen in exasperation. “I don’t want to argue with you.” I frown. But I desperately want out of this car. I hate feeling like I have to get away from him. It sucks my chest dry and leaves it hollow. “Yeah…well…” He shrugs. “I’ll see you when you’re done. If I’m not working.” His eyes leave mine and stare out the windshield. I sit undecided. Run? Fix? “Kiss?” I ask. And I can’t believe I have it in me. But if I didn’t, then where would we be? Me and my Shawn? He stares at me for a moment before a corner of his mouth twitches in a smile. “If I must,” he teases. His warm lips touch mine but it doesn’t feel right. It’s not soft, or

relaxing, or smooth, or any of the things I love about Shawn. He’s too tense still. Or maybe that’s me. My skin prickles from this touch of the forced and unfamiliar. I keep my eyes closed as I pull away, not even wanting to look at him right now. “See you.” I pull my dress behind me as I step out of the car, and jog across the parking lot holding back my tears. He was so sorry last time. People don’t do things again if they’re that sorry. What’s happening with him? Oh. I stop just before the school doors. My gut sinks. He texted me last night about his dad and him working late. I should have gone over last night, or talked with him about it today. Instead I did nothing. Maybe it’s part me. Not all me, because this isn’t okay, but I also know I need to be paying more attention to the guy I love. I turn around just in time to see him peel out of the school parking lot, and wonder if I just did the right thing in walking away. Maybe we both just need a few hours alone, and then we can talk, or something. I rub my wrist, knowing that this can’t happen again. I pull open the door and step into the cool theater. The familiar smell of paint and wooden sets hits my nose and transports me to a world where Shawn doesn’t exist. Sucks that I feel some relief from that. I want Shawn as someone who’s in all parts of my life. “Ronnie!” Mr. Blackman turns from his spot on center stage. “Glad you’re here!” I had no idea I’d be noticed as missing. “Here. Sorry I’m late.” I suck in a big breath to calm my nerves and continue

walking towards the stage. Already, inside this building and away from Shawn—his temper, his grabbing, and the fear of him doesn’t seem real. “It’s okay. We have some interesting news.” He holds his notebook in front of his chest. “What’s that?” My thoughts are still swirling too fast for me to realize this might be a big deal. “Liesl had to back out. She’s missed some student government meetings, and had…well, she simply had too much going on. I assured her that you were up to the task.” I stop in my tracks halfway between the doors and the stage. “You are now officially Juliet.” He smiles wide anticipating some sort of exuberant reaction. “If you still want it.” “Wow.” But I’m not sure if it comes out loud enough to be heard. They clap for me as I step onto the stage. My heart’s frantic, but my smile starts to spread. “Guess you’re stuck workin’ with me.” Luke laughs. “Guess I am.” I reach out and punch his shoulder. My insides are still shaking from Shawn, and this just sort of adds to the conflicting chaos. But in a good way. I need good. I need happy. “So, are you up to it?” Mr. Blackman asks. I take in our teacher’s expectant face and then Luke’s. “You can so do this, Ronnie,” Luke whispers. His golden brown eyes stay focused on mine. I suck in a breath. “Yeah, I’m up to this.” My eyes drift back to our coach.

“Perfect.” He stands back. “Let’s get started.” “What about their kiss?” someone asks. I wave my hand dismissively toward Luke. Cheerios tshirt today. “We’ve already kissed and we hang out all the time, we’re cool.” But I suddenly can’t look at him. Will this be really weird and awkward? We hang out all the time. That, and I’m barely recovered from my time in the parking lot with Shawn. My insides still feel all shaky. “But can you make it real?” Blackman’s eyes go up as he takes his seat in the center. “Oh, I’m sure she can fake it.” Luke says. I don’t dare look at Luke, but I know he just winked because that’s exactly what Luke would do. “You two step up for your kiss, and then we’ll work on Act I.” Blackman sits. Where do I look? Do I touch him? How do I touch him? Am I Juliet now? Or, Ronnie? Luke stands in front of me. “Don’t look so panicked. This isn’t a big deal,” he whispers. “When we’re here, I’m Romeo and you’re Juliet, no one else. Also, we both die in the end. Every single time.” His dimples appear, as his smile spreads. I stand facing him and let out a few deep breaths. Its just Luke, the guy who’s easy and fun to be around. I can do this. Luke puts his hands up. Right. Golden brown eyes, smiling tanned face…Luke. We stand palm to palm— Romeo and Juliet. His eyes take in mine and the thing is,

it’s my heart that’s beating wildly, and my eyes that are searching his. No one else is here. Nothing else is here. His lips come down to mine and this is definitely not like spin the bottle. This is all Luke and all me. Or all Romeo, and I have no idea if I’m Juliet or not, but it’s awesome. His lips are so soft, so careful, and my chest tightens in anticipation of whatever’s next. Our fingers slide together and I squeeze his hands and part my lips as we meet again. I’m melting—into him, into the floor, into myself. Catcalls from the cast make me drop my hands and step away. Melting gone. That was intense. I stare out at our drama coach just because I’m not sure where else I should look right now. My face is burning up, and my heart’s going crazy, this is way too many conflicting emotions for one day. “Nice.” Mr. Blackman’s brows are halfway to his hairline. “And here I thought it would be more awkward because you’re buddies. Glad to see that’s not the case.” I smile weakly, but there’s no way I’m looking at Luke again. Not right now. I spin around to take my place backstage. Fortunately we never make it to the scene where Luke and I have to kiss. One is enough for the night. My heart’s still squeezing tight over our kiss, this is acting. This is what my theater time is going to be about— Juliet, and her feelings. I need to embrace it instead of being afraid. I just might not talk to Shawn about this part of my role as Juliet.

*** Both Mom and Dad are in the kitchen when Mindy and I walk in. It’s sort of rare for Mom, Dad and I to share the house aside from sleeping. “How was practice?” Mom asks. “I’m now the lead. Liesl moved.” I stop in the kitchen doorway, stunned again. “You’ll be opposite Luke.” Dad smiles as he pulls open the fridge. “Yeah.” That’s both the weird part and the part that makes it all feel okay. “She’s going to be so awesome!” Mindy bounces beside me. “Well, make sure you don’t neglect Shawn with all this excitement. It’s going to be really weird for him to know you’re kissing his best friend.” Mom’s brows go up. I swear Dad lets out a sigh as the fridge door closes. “Yeah.” I rock back on my heels. And Shawn and I haven’t talked about that part of it yet. “I know.” Mindy lets out a grunt of disgust. “It’ll be good for him.” Fortunately Mom doesn’t seem to notice. To Mom, Shawn is golden. The thing is—I was looking forward to ‘extra-sweet’ Shawn for a few days because of our afternoon. Now, I have to break the news that I’m the lead in the play. “Caramel popcorn tonight?” Mom asks. “For dinner ?” Dad and I say at the same time. “If we eat it with apples or bananas or something healthy,

that works, right?” She has this little mischievous smile. Mindy’s giggles fill the kitchen. “No.” Dad shakes his head, then winks at me. “Not enough food for me.” “Me either.” I pull open the fridge door. “Grilled cheese?” I ask. “That would be awesome.” Dad kisses the top of my head. “Want help?” “I think I can manage. And…” I turn to Mindy. “I already have a helper.” “Party-poopers.” Mom frowns. Dad puts his arms around her and they wander into the living room. I bring my phone from my dress pocket and set it on the counter. Do I call Shawn? Should he call me? I twist my hand a few times to see how stiff I am. I kind of wish he’d grabbed the same one again. I know there’s a way for Shawn and I to work through this, I’m just not sure how. It’s so far outside anything I ever thought we’d deal with together that I don’t really know where to begin. “What’s with you?” Mindy asks, eyeing the sudden odd relationship between me and my phone. “Nothing.” I pull open the fridge to start dinner. I need to be busy before I let something slip. Mindy knows me too well to hide anything for long—not that I’ve ever tried. I’ve never had to. By the sound of her giggles Mindy’s texting Paul. I take the opportunity to pull the sleeve off my wrist as I dig into the back of the fridge for cheese. My bruise isn’t nearly as bad as last time. Him grabbing me like that was way over the

line, but I know he had a bad night last night, and some kid was bragging about kissing me, so I could see how that would make someone mad. How mad would I be if things were the other way around?

Mad enough to make bruises? Nope. My chest gains a new weight. What does this mean?

~9~ My stomach turns over as I think about facing Shawn after our day. As I step over each line in the dimly-lit sidewalk, I’m another rung higher in my stress-ladder. How will he react to me being opposite Luke in the play? Will it be no big deal? Will the new bruise on my arm help him to not care? I step through the gate into the backyard at the same time Shawn closes the back door behind him. “Luke already called,” he whispers as our eyes catch. The small porch light keeps his face in shadow, so I’m not sure what to expect. “How are you?” I ask as I step closer. It’s a sort of generic question because I already know it’ll be awkward. My sleeves are pushed to my elbows so he can see the fresh bruising from today, but the light is dim and even though I know where to look, I can’t find it. I almost feel bad for using bruises this way, but at the same time he was the one who gave them to me, even though he didn’t mean to. “I don’t know, Ronnie.” His voice is low and his shoulders are slumped. “I know you want to do this theater stuff, but did it have to be for this play?” I can’t answer. Now that I have the lead, walking away would be torture. “I know I shouldn’t have overreacted today about Curtis.

Luke is sort of dating Aubrey, so this all shouldn’t be a big deal. But I want you to know it feels weird for me, okay?” His warm hands take mine, and despite our argument some of my tension dissolves. And I know if I do something big, all will be good, all will be forgiven. Something really big. A nervous tingling starts in the pit of my stomach, but it’s for a whole new reason. Could I go all the way? Is this awkwardness between us the thing that puts me over the edge? I’m desperate for us to be close again, for me to be able to be held by him and feel comfort from it. I want Shawn and I to be happy like we’ve been for the past couple weeks, and like we were for months before that. “Can I come inside?” The words come out all squeaky. Have I made the decision to go further? Just this simply? My heart pushes against my ribs, faster, faster. “Aren’t you tired? You always complain about being tired.” He looks through his thick lashes at me. “Some things are more important.” I scoot closer, and my stomach tightens. What am I about to get myself into? “Okay.” His smile starts to spread. “I’m gonna go check my parents, see where they are and come back for you, okay?” “Okay.” His lips meet mine and his kiss is so soft and so sweet that I think, yeah, I might be able to do this. Or at least get a step closer. Shawn disappears into the dark house and I pull my cell from my pajama pocket to set the timer for vibrate in 30

minutes. My hands are shaking, not bad, just a little. Just enough that I notice. My cell is my safety net. If things start to go too far, I can fall back on that. Or I can ignore it. I mean, I can always back off, that’s okay too. He’ll understand. I think. Again, the thought of not stopping sends a frantic swarm of butterflies through my stomach. “Asleep,” he whispers. I jump at the sound of his quiet voice. I’m really going to have to calm down. “Come on.” His smile is soft as he gestures to the open door. I take his hand as he leads me through the doorway, and then wrap my arms around his stomach to follow him through the dark house. Once we’re in his room, he locks his door, sending another wave of nerves through me. He takes a step back to where I’m standing next to his bed, and slides his arms around my waist. His mouth is on mine, soft again, but his kiss is deep, and it’s like we both forget how to come up for air. The light from the backyard streams through the blinds striping the wall, striping his face, highlighting our bodies together. “I love you, Ronnie,” he whispers between kisses. Kisses to my mouth, to my neck, my collarbone. I sit on his bed, and he pulls off his shirt. I’ve seen Shawn with his shirt off loads of times—at the beach, in the backyard, but never like this. Never just to be closer to me.

I’m totally high on the nervous energy and rest the flat of my hand on his broad chest. This is Shawn. I love him. What am I so worried about? My hand slides down his stomach until my fingers rest on the top of his pants. No way can I take the intensity of his eyes right now, so I give a little tug. He’s on top of me in moments. And it’s like I mean to tell him I’m happy I’m here. That I love him, but I can’t. There’s no room for words in what I’m feeling right now—there’s too much want. Too much need. His hands slide through my hair, down my arms. We continue to kiss, and I don’t break away. I can’t. My body, my mouth, has melted into his. His fingers caress my waist and slide up my tank top. I don’t even care. I want it. Him. More touching. My back arches, pressing our stomachs together, all of this feels so new—in the very low places I feel nervous tingling begin, and the excitement of being this close to him courses through my body. The heat of his skin drives my hands to touch more, and I pull him towards me, even though his weight’s already there. My knees pull up until his body’s resting between my legs. If we weren’t dressed we’d be having sex, or almost having sex. My stomach tightens both in nerves and finally, real anticipation. He pulls back in the dim light, barely far enough for me to make out his features. “Thank you. You’ve been so weird lately. I miss being with you like this.” His dark eyes see me, through me; the guy who’s known me since I was a tall,

skinny kid and loves me still. My legs wrap around his back pulling our hips together, and my phone buzzes underneath us. “Shit.” He rolls off and sits on the edge of the bed. I scoot over and stand up, pulling out my phone to turn off the alarm. “I gotta go. That was Dad,” I lie. And this time only half of me wants to leave. I’m so in love with Shawn. What am I so worried about? “Thank you for this,” he smiles softly. “I hope you’re not in too much trouble. You can blame it on me, okay? Say I called and had to see you.” “Thank you.” I step up to where he’s sitting on the bed and stand between his legs. I take his hands and rest them on my bare stomach between the top of my pj pants and the bottom of my tank, knowing he’ll push them further and slide them back under my shirt. Instead of moving his hands up, like I expect, he moves them down between my legs and I forget to breathe. It’s scary, but sends a shiver through me, and just before I’m about to tell him to stop he stands up and gives me a long, soft hug. I run my fingers up and down his bare back and kiss the top of his shoulder. I’m way closer to being with him than I thought. I open my mouth to tell him I want to stay, but the words don’t come. “You’re my forever, Ronnie. I love you.” His words rush through me, leaving me high and floating. And I feel guilty for ever being afraid of him, or for being upset. “I love you, too.” Even more than any of our kissing on his bed, our goodnight kiss sucks the breath from me, and I happily give

it away. *** My body’s sore from painting sets all afternoon. Dresses really aren’t appropriate for this kind of work, so I’m in short jean cutoffs and another long-sleeve shirt. “Hey honey!” Mom waves as she walks down one of the aisles toward the stage. “Hey, Mom!” I set down my brush and move towards her. I had no idea she was coming here today. Luke and his Powderpuff Girls t-shirt follow. Seriously. Powderpuff. “Hi there, Luke.” Mom’s smile is wide. “Or do I call you Romeo ?” He grins back. “Good to see you, Mrs. Bird. Luke is great.” My arms fold and I lean against a theater chair. “What’s up, Mom?” “Thought you might be hungry. Your dad wanted to go out to eat tonight.” “Okay.” It’s been a long time since we’ve done that. It goes back to the whole busy parents thing. “Where did that come from?” She points to my arm. My sleeves are rolled up—I must have done that without thinking. “Building sets.” I shrug and jerk my sleeves back down. Luke’s eyes are on me. Hard. “I don’t remember that.” “Maybe it happened on a day you weren’t here.” I shrug

again. Only, both Luke and I know he’s always here. “It’s no big deal.” I can’t make my eyes find his searching ones so I stare at Mom, chest pounding. I swallow twice because I know I’ll have to talk again soon. She laughs. “I guess having her build sets probably isn’t the best idea.” I laugh with her, but Luke isn’t buying it. He hasn’t moved. My heart beats harder. “Why don’t you help me clean up, and then you and your mom can take off?” He half-turns toward the stage. He’s just looking for a way to get me alone so we can talk. I’m not into it. I rest my hand on his arm and give him a big smile. “Would you mind doing it for me? I’m starving.” And I know I’m playing a desperation card here, but it’s better than Luke trying to confront me. “Sure.” His hands rest in his back pockets, broadening his chest, and gives me his best relaxed smile, only I know Luke better than that. He’s going to call me or find me the moment he can. Crap. “Thanks, Luke,” Mom says. “No problem.” His eyes still rest on me. “Guess we’ll talk later.” We both know there’s deep meaning in those words that I don’t want to think about. “Guess so.” I jog up the stage, grab my pack, walk past Luke, and follow Mom—a seeping dread replacing the panic of a few moments ago. “Luke sure has turned into a handsome young man,” she

says as we step outside. There’s really no point in denying that. “Yep.” “Is it weird? Being opposite him in the play like you are?” And now her eyes are on me, questioning. “Sometimes,” I admit. There has to be some sort of subject change option in here somewhere. Anywhere. “And he and Shawn are still best friends, aren’t they?” she asks. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jeans. She sure is perceptive today. “It’s a little awkward. I’m guessing that’s your next question, but we’re fine. It’s just a play. It won’t last forever.” And especially after last night, Shawn and I seem really, really good. “Well, you and Shawn should make some extra time for each other while this is going on.” Mom gives me another knowing look. “Yeah, we will.” And we did last night—you just don’t know about it. My phone buzzes. LUKE: WORRIED ABOUT U. WHAT HAPND? There’s no point in pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about. HE CAUGHT ME AS I FELL INTO THE POOL. LUKE: I DON’T BELIEVE U. HE’S BEEN WEIRD. I WAS AFRAID TO LEAVE U THE OTHER DAY. I’VE NEVER SEEN HIM ANGRY LIKE THAT. UR SEEING THINGS THAT AREN’T THERE. LUKE: IF UR SURE. Instead of answering, I stuff my phone back in my pocket

and hope he drops it. Shawn and I are good. Luke poking around won’t help anything. *** I find a sleeveless tunic top because my bruises are almost gone, and now that I got them building sets, I won’t have to come up with anything. I also wear a pair of jeans and just for fun, and because I almost never do, I slide on my favorite platform wedges. Shawn and I should be cool. We’ve spent some good ‘us’ time the past couple of nights, even though I haven’t stayed. Shawn’s smile is wide as I step out of the house. He’s on his motorcycle today, which terrifies me, but the ride to school is only a half-mile. I can be terrified for that long. “Really?” His brows go up as he looks at my shoes. I shrug. “I love them. No one cares but you.” He sits silent and lets out a sigh of impatience as I climb up behind him. “It just makes me feel weird, and you know this, so…” I wrap my arms tightly around his stomach, hoping to relax him, but he’s stiff all the way to school and doesn’t even try to scare me. Not once. It sucks. We’re back to distance, all because I had to wear my stupid shoes. I should know better. ***

“Ronnie,” Mr. Blackman waves at me from down the hall and I jog up, feeling light and tall in my shoes when I’m not around Shawn. Then, I’m heavy…for having the nerve to feel so great. “What’s up?” I ask. “I won’t be in rehearsal today. A former student here, and a theater major at the university, will be going over the scenes with just you and Luke, okay?” My chest tightens, making my heart frustrated and my breath shallow. Nerves. I try to swallow them down. “Sounds good.” Or, terrifying, or… “Great.” He pats my shoulder and walks away. I’m still standing. In one spot. This should be interesting. So far, rehearsals have been more about memorization and blocking. Blackman said we’d work on some of the closeness later. I guess later is now. “S’up?” Mindy bumps against me. “Sorry.” I shake my head. “Intense rehearsal today.” “With Luke?” She wags her brows. “Please don’t do that.” I shake my head, my chest weighted down further by her humor. “It’s already weird for Shawn.” She rolls her eyes. “Shawn’s hot and can be really sweet, but sometimes I don’t know how you put up with him.” And she doesn’t even know the worst part yet. I definitely can’t tell her. My eyes float to the floor. She’s in flip-flops. “Can we trade shoes?” I ask. Our eyes catch. “That stupid height thing?” Her eyes widen.

“Yes. Please ?” I lean down and am suddenly desperate, fingers shaking as I fumble with the buckles. I’m so stupid. Shawn’s stressed and I had to wear something I know makes him uncomfortable. What kind of selfish girl am I turning into? “It’s just with the play and everything, I think he’s feeling a little left out, and then I had to wear my stupid heels…” The words come out in a rush. “Whoa.” She puts a hand on my arm as she kicks off her sandals. “Relax, Ronnie. This is high school. He’s your boyfriend. It’s all supposed to be fun.” I pull in a deep breath. The hallways are clearing. I’m sure we’ll both end up tardy. Whatever. “I know. Thanks for the shoes.” I kick off my platforms and slide on her flip-flops, grateful that despite our dramatic difference in height my feet are small enough to fit into her sandals. “I need them back during last period. And, we so need a girls’ night.” She gives me a half-hug before she jogs off to class, the buckles dangling as she goes. Maybe we do need a girls’ night. Maybe I do. Some time away from any and all guys would probably be good.

~ 10 ~ After the way Luke looked at me when Mom noticed my bruised wrist, I’ve avoided him. There’s no avoiding him now. Laura, the college-age coach, sits on the stage with Luke and me. At least we’re not completely alone. “Tell me about Romeo,” she asks him. Luke laughs. “He’s a cocky bastard.” “Good.” She’s smiling. “He’s cocky, but he knows how to love. He sticks by his boys, he can get the girls, and now suddenly, a girl’s gotten him, too. For real this time.” “Nice, okay.” Her eyes turn to me. “Tell me about Juliet.” I’m not sure how to answer. I’ve focused so much on the language and the blocking and the memorization, I haven’t thought about it as much as I should have. This is one of those opportunities to sound cool and insightful, but I’m sure I’ll muck it up. “Juliet’s spoiled and is over-protected. Her parents have picked some guy for her that she doesn’t like. I think she’s as attracted to Romeo for his independent spirit as much as anything else.” “Tell me more.” More ? Think, think… “I think she’s confused, maybe a little scared and unsure as she begins to learn about what her family does. With the death of her family members things change, and she opens herself up to Romeo

because she knows he’ll get it.” “Right.” Laura nods. “Because he gets her in a way no one else does.” I nod, and then Luke and I look at each other for a moment, but I force my eyes to the floor before he asks a question or before I feel something I shouldn’t. “Let’s get started.” He stands and heads to stage right where he enters the party, and Romeo and Juliet first meet. Laura steps next to me as Luke walks away. Her voice is low. “Your teacher said that you’re doing great, and that sometimes he’ll see you right on the edge of falling completely into the role and then you hold back.” My cheeks start to get hot. I have done that. I pull back because I’m afraid of feeling something I shouldn’t. “This is my first play and—” “Next time you find yourself on the edge of real feeling and then pulling back, don’t. Let yourself fall.” Her green eyes stare into mine. I nod. Let myself fall. Let myself feel. “And you rock those shoes.” She smiles and points at my wedge sandals. I blush, suddenly glad Mindy and I had to change back. Luke pretends to roll through his lines with his buddies and I stand pretending to hear the music and watch him. Suddenly I can hear the music, sort of, even though it’s not on. It’s just part of this scene. I watch Luke/Romeo move, his movements are familiar but new. He’s Romeo here, not Luke. I’m Juliet, not Ronnie. Feeling is okay. This is acting. This is what it’s supposed to be.

My breath catches when his eyes meet mine and this is the point when I look away or I pull back. Today I don’t. I hold his eyes. I soak in his eyes. The black curtains don’t matter. The stage doesn’t matter. Laura doesn’t matter. He moves closer and I move closer because I can’t help it. Because Ronnie/Juliet is just as drawn in as she should be. I’m pulled to him; his eyes make my stomach flutter. His cocky smile is so full of wonder, and his warm voice and warm eyes touch me in really good places as I let his look and his words fill me. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” His fingers brush the skin near my lips. This is new. Shivers run through me and I swallow a lump of nervous anticipation, because at some point I’ll need the ability to speak. He leans in and I back away, just like we’ve practiced, but I don’t want to back away and that makes all the difference. I’ve let myself fall. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.” He smiles his crooked Luke/Romeo smile and melts my heart. Makes my knees weak. “Have not saints lips? And holy palmers too?” And there’s no doubt in my mind they picked the perfect guy to play Romeo. Now it’s my turn to smile at him. This is where I get to tease, better. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

He leans towards me again, making my heart flutter and my hands press harder to his, clasping our fingers together. “O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant though, lest faith turn to despair.” Every part of me is in this moment. In his eyes, the heat of the lights on the stage and nothing else touches us. Not here. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” “Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” He kisses me. I can’t remember if he’s supposed to here or not, but I take it. “Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.” We kiss again, and I wish I could throw my arms around him and pull us together. “Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” The line flows from my mouth without thought. “Sin from thy lips?” More Luke/Romeo smirk. “O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” We kiss again and stand silent until I remember my line. “You kiss by the book.” I keep our faces close and wonder how well my voice projects. Laura taps my shoulder, stepping into the role of Nurse. “Madam, your mother craves a word with you.” Both me and Luke/Romeo jump. Moment broken. I suck in a breath and try to shake off the feeling of falling hard and fast. My eyes focus on Laura, not Luke. Way safer. “Awesome.” Her smile is wide. “Let’s do it one more time and then we’ll move on to the balcony scene, okay?” I turn away from her, from Luke, weak with the emotional intensity of him, of me, of my role…of everything. I pull in a deep breath, and prepare to fall again.

After another run-through of the party scene and three run-throughs of the balcony scene, I’m exhausted. Luke’s eyes hold something incredible, and either he’s a good actor, or has feelings I don’t want to think or know about. One thing I do know is that his kiss is addictive. Well, he’s been doing this for a while. He’s a good actor. I’m okay, because having Luke as anything more than what he is, my friend, won’t work. Laura thanks us and takes off. I stand on the edge of the stage. I’m suddenly unsure of where my eyes should be, or my hands, or myself. “I need to get my pack and then I’ll walk you home.” Luke jogs backstage and emerges a moment later with his bag. I watch him walk toward me in a way I probably shouldn’t. In a way that makes my insides tingly. I wonder how long it’ll take for my part in the play to wear off, because I’m still feeling unsettling, nervous jitters around him, and he’s Luke. My friend. Not Romeo. “Was that totally weird for you?” He stops, facing me. “I don’t know.” Yes and no; his question is almost impossible to answer. “Thanks for doing this with me, Ronnie. It was weird with Liesl but fun with you.” “Okay, good.” And because I don’t know what else to do I put my arms around him in a hug. The theater is quiet and still. His arms hold me easily, and even with my platforms on, my head rests on the top of his shoulder. And then our hug feels different. More like

Romeo, not Luke. He feels so good. My body is screaming for me to never pull away, but I know I have to. When I step back our eyes lock, and if it was someone else, in a different circumstance, we’d kiss. It’s all here. But it’s me and it’s Luke, and I already have my forever. But I feel it, a new kind of ‘pull’ to my good friend, and I have no idea what to do about it. “Ready?” I ask. My voice sounds surprisingly normal. “Yep.” He clears his throat and we start up the steps out of the theater. My heart’s hammering in my chest and my hands feel suddenly sweaty, but we’re okay. We did it, and I’m going home to Shawn. Which is good. And Luke either forgot about my wrist, or is letting it go. Either way, I’m relieved. *** “How was your intense day of acting today?” Mindy’s voice is full of suggestion, even over the phone. “Fine, I guess.” I swirl my legs around in the cool water of the pool. “You don’t sound fine,” she urges. This is Mindy. I’ve already kept too much from her. “He’s so intense, Luke is. He’s like a pro at this, and then we walked home but I didn’t know how close to stand, or what to say. It’s like that feeling we have on stage doesn’t want to go away when I leave.” “Wow.” The word comes out like a wistful sigh of yet another girl who would love to fill my shoes in the moments I

kiss Luke. “But I know we’re doing good onstage together.” No one would second-guess the way we look, talk and act. Not after today. Not even Shawn. Maybe not even me. And that starts to gnaw at my insides. “I think he likes you.” My stomach drops. That would really complicate things. It would just lead to him being hurt because I’m not going anywhere that leads me away from Shawn. He already knows this. She has to be wrong. “Ronnie? You still there?” she asks. “Why…why would you say that?” Luke can’t like me. It would pull him from my comfortable place. “Just the way he looks at you.” I’m sure she’s shrugging, her round little lips on her tanned face pulling into a frown. “It’s Romeo bleeding over.” That’s all. That’s all it can be. He’s…he’s just Luke. “We’ll see…” she sings out, and then we’re saying goodbye and I’m convincing myself that she’s crazy. I need to get myself together. Shawn and I are sharing dinner at his work. It’s the only time we’ll have to get together for a day or two and I need to make the most of it. For both of us. *** Luke and I walk in comfortable silence on our way home after rehearsal. “Good day today.” He wraps his arm over my shoulder

and squeezes my upper arm. “Ow.” I jerk away and then realize I should not have reacted. I went to Shawn’s work last night to share dinner on his break and things between us were tense. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but his frustration and the grabbing of my shoulders was followed immediately by us having one of our best nights in a long time. After the initial anger, we sat and laughed and… “What’s wrong?” Luke asks. Our eyes meet and I can’t answer. Part of me thinks he knows and part of me thinks he’s just guessing. He wouldn’t understand. He doesn’t know Shawn like I do. “Nothing, my arm’s just sore.” I shake my head but can’t keep walking—like my legs just forgot how to move. His brows pull together as he takes my hand and turns it over. “Oh, come on.” But his voice breaks, and for a moment part of me thinks that Luke might cry. Where did that come from? “I’m headed home.” Now that my legs are working again. “Ronnie.” He jumps ahead of me on the sidewalk forcing me to stop. “What?” I widen my eyes. Looking exasperated is better than looking afraid because Luke sees deeper into me than I realized. He sees it all. “I’m worried about you.” He steps toward me, taking my breath away. Must get rid of tension. I chuckle. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” He holds up my arm. “Is this from him? And your wrist, too?” The bruise is faint, barely noticeable, but it’s still there. “No.” I push around him and keep walking. “No.” He jumps in front of me again. “I don’t believe you.” His voice breaks again. “Sorry.” I push around him again and keep walking. The noise of my heart is like thunder in my ears, blocking out all coherent thoughts, but not Luke’s voice. “Ronnie, why would you stay with someone who did this to you?” he pleads. I need Luke to keep this quiet. “He’s my soul mate, Luke. I don’t know how else to explain it. Since we were kids. He’s it for me. This angry side of him isn’t him, not really. There’s way more to him than that.” Did I just admit to what I think I did? I’m half freed/half chained more tightly. Someone knows, but he’s not someone who will understand. “I feel like I just got kicked in the gut.” He starts to reach out for me but I push his hand away. “I want to hug you, hold you, protect you, something.” I laugh. It’s nervous and full of all sorts of things that aren’t laughter, but it comes out all the same. “It was just this once. He was trying to help me into his car. I know how to deal with him.” I shrug and shuffle my feet on the sidewalk. Maybe if I pretend it’s no big deal, it won’t be a big deal. “So this is something you know how to deal with ?” Why does his voice have to make this all sound so dramatic?

My heart sinks low. He now knows it wasn’t a one-time thing; although, again, part of me feels like he just sees it all. “Can we please forget this conversation ever happened?” “No.” He shakes his head. “Just let me work it out, okay?” I’m ready to beg. To plead. Anything for him to let this go. Luke rests his hands softly on my shoulders. “Ronnie, you’re a million times better than this. I don’t care what he has going on in his life right now.” “No, Luke.” My head shakes. “Please, you two are friends, he needs friends. He needs us. It’s…” It’s too much for me to deal with but I love him, and it’s like—if I can help him through this, then I need to. “You have to promise me you’ll walk away if it ever happens again.” Our faces are close, there’s no way to avoid his troubled gaze, the worry creased in the wrinkles of his forehead, the tautness of his mouth. “And you need to tell someone.” “No. Please, Luke, don’t tell anyone. It’s not him, it’s not the way he is, it’s just…stress, that’s all. Please.” I don’t even realize we’re touching, but I’m grasping his bicep, hoping my words sink in. It’s Shawn’s dad’s fault, but I can’t tell him that. His eyes close briefly and a small frown pulls at the corners of his mouth. “You have to promise me.” He inches closer. “I promise.” I know as soon as the words leave my lips that it’s probably a lie, but it comes out all the same.

His shoulders relax. “Call me if you ever need anything.

Ever. Okay? I don’t like this. At all.” “Thank you, Romeo.” I widen my eyes, trying to tease. “I’m serious, Ronnie.” His face is tight. “This isn’t funny. Right now I want to go kick his ass and talk to your dad.” Panic. Can’t breathe. “Please, no! No one else would understand.” “I don’t understand, Ronnie.” He leans forward until I can feel his warmth, his breath. “And you shouldn’t either.” My hands drop to my sides. “Okay.” I wish I could try and joke about it with him, but I know he won’t let me. His serious face makes it all more real. He puts his arms around me and holds me on the sidewalk until I lean into him. How is it possible that I’m gaining comfort from him knowing this crazy thing that’s happening? His arms loosen and I reluctantly start to walk next to him, part of me wishing we were still standing together. I keep my eyes on the ground, unwilling to see whatever Luke’s eyes might hold. I don’t need any more confusion, and I’m certain that’s all looking at him will get me right now. We walk the rest of our three blocks in silence and stop at the end of my driveway. “Night, Ronnie.” He doesn’t ask, just pulls me into another hug; the kind where I know he won’t let me go until I’m holding him the way he’s holding me. It’s dangerous to hold Luke like this, all wrapped up in his warmth. He’d be way too easy to fall for.

~ 11 ~ My head rests against the window in the back of Dad’s car. At the last minute he rented the house we sometimes use in the summer and declared that our whole family, dopey big brother Ben and all, would head to the beach for Thanksgiving weekend. No one else. With how tense Shawn has been, and with the way Mindy thinks Luke is looking at me, I need the separation. That “Angel” song from the nineties version of Romeo and Juliet plays over and over on my iPod. My eyes close and I’m wearing wings, wandering through the crowd looking for Romeo. He finally makes his appearance through the fish tank—as Luke. But I’m allowed to feel all floaty about Luke when I’m thinking about being Juliet. It’s okay. I feel Ben’s hands push on my feet which rest on the seat between us. “Watch your space.” He smirks. His freckly face and red hair match mine—no mistaking us as anything but siblings. I stick out my tongue, mostly cause it’s what he expects from me, and push my feet against his thigh. The song starts at the beginning again and I close my eyes. Once again I’m Juliet, wings floating behind me, smiling across the room, heart beating hard, something in me knowing that my life is about to change because of the guy in front of me.

And then I think about Romeo, seeing a girl who he’s ready to do anything for, and not being deterred. Juliet barely pauses when she learns the truth—“my only love sprung from my only hate.” Why does their story have to be so tragic? A smile pulls at my lips. Because it’s a tragedy,

stupid. An ear bud flies out and my eyes snap open. I scowl at Ben who now has it in his ear. His brow wrinkles up. “Research,” I snap and jerk my ear bud back. Maybe I should listen to something else. *** When we were twelve, Mindy made this huge blanket and pillow creation for a sleepover. We dubbed it blanketopia, and put it in our notebook. I’ve just completed my own masterpiece in front of the TV despite my extremely full stomach from our Thanksgiving feast. “Hey, Rhonda!” Only Ben calls me this. And only because he knows it annoys me. I don’t answer. “Your boyfriend’s here!” he yells down the stairs. What? Shawn’s not supposed to be here. I pull my tank down so it touches the top of my pj pants and head upstairs. There has to be some mistake. I step onto the back porch to see Luke in the driver’s seat of Shawn’s mother’s car. Luke. And Shawn. Why is this happening? I’m not sure what to do. When our eyes meet, Shawn jumps out of the passenger

side. “Surprise babe!” He raises his hands high in the air and stumbles once before catching himself. Has he been drinking ? Dread seeps into my stomach, and it shouldn’t. I should be thrilled, but it’s just not…it’s just not what I needed this weekend. I glance at Luke who shrugs as he gets out. “I’m stuck with my dad for the holiday. His house is just a mile south of here, and Shawn called, so…” “So…you ended up here.” I smile and Shawn comes at me from the side, pressing his face to mine. The smell of beer or whiskey or something hits my nose, and his soft stubble rubs my cheek—definitely drinking. “There’s a party just up the beach. Put on some cutoffs and join us.” His lips press into my face, and then down my neck as he speaks. “You don’t even have to put on your bra if you don’t want,” he whispers. Disappointment hits me in a wave, and I still manage to plaster on a smile. But why tonight? And why is he drinking? Sucks. My dinner is like a rock in my stomach, and blanketopia will have to wait until later. *** I’m in a tank, a bra, and short shorts. I cut off another two inches from the bottom before leaving. They barely feel like shorts, they’re so small, but I know it’ll appease Shawn, and with how tense things have been, I feel like I have some ground to make up.

Both Dad’s and Shawn’s eyebrows raise as I step upstairs from the basement, but for very different reasons. “Don’t worry, Dad.” Ben rests his broad arm over my shoulders. “I’ll keep her out of trouble.” “Right.” Dad lets out a sigh. I try not to make eye contact with anyone. Not with Dad’s worried face, or Luke’s apologetic one, or Shawn’s…well, no one would mistake how he’s looking at me, and my dad is probably right to be nervous. Shawn’s arm is around my back as we walk up the beach; his hand is in my front pocket and he’s caressing my hipbone, pressing his hand to the bottom of my pocket, as close as he can get to between my legs. Seriously, we’re walking with Luke and my brother. Everyone at the party looks to be about college age, and Ben, despite his promises to my dad, disappears immediately. I’m trying to figure out where all these people came from and why they aren’t lounging around the TV with their family for the holiday. Shawn begins to rock our bodies to the ear-splitting music, but he’s harsh and it all feels forced. I relax my arms around his neck and try to move with him—anything for us to keep the peace tonight. My eyes catch Luke’s over Shawn’s shoulder just before a blonde bounces up to him and hands him a beer with a smile. It’s weird to see him smile at her. There’s a pang in my chest, even though I shouldn’t care. It’ll probably be good. I’ve heard nothing more about Aubrey, or any girls for that matter. Maybe Luke getting involved with someone will

help keep his Romeo stuff on stage. Or with someone else. That works too. He’s been looking at me way too intently, and I’ve been noticing it way more than I should. “C ome on, Ronnie.” Shawn’s practically grinding us together and I’m just not into it. I ate a huge dinner and was about to rest in my blanketopia. “Sorry, this is not at all what I had planned,” I yell in his ear. “But it’s better, right?” he asks. “Yep.” Only not better. Every part of me begs to go home. To warmth, comfort, aloneness. Luke’s now dancing with the blonde, his beer in hand. She’s gazing into his eyes with a smile that means she’d probably do anything he asked. A knot forms in my stomach, as I wonder if she’ll be the new girlfriend. Kind of sucks, because just like he said at the beginning of the year, he wants more than that. But a worse thought hits my gut. Maybe she’ll give him more, and again, I wonder why on earth I suddenly care. Or, I need to find a way not to care. *** Shawn and my brother are both drunk and laughing way too loudly in front of Shawn’s car. Mouths open, holding onto one another for support. They look ridiculous. My arms wrap around my middle, trying to hold in some warmth. There’s no way my parents don’t know what’s going on here, even if they’re settled in for the night. We’re

just outside the circle of light from the porch, but it doesn’t take a whole lot of brains to know there’s been drinking. “Shawn asked to stay overnight here with you,” Luke says quietly. “I’m thinking with the amount of alcohol he drank, I should just take him to my dad’s house to sleep it off?” I glance to where Ben and Shawn are still laughing over nothing. “Yeah.” I let out a breath of relief. “Thanks.” And then the wave of guilt hits me. I should want him here. And it sucks because I do love him, but this weekend was supposed to be my break—not another time to shove all the recent frustrations with him back in my face. “He’s headed home tomorrow.” And Luke’s voice almost makes it sound like he’s trying to help me out with this information. I can’t have him think that things between Shawn and I aren’t good. It’s just wrong. “He’s my boyfriend, Luke. I want him here.” I’m glad the light from the porch is dim because I don’t know how the lie comes off, and Luke reads me too well. He looks down at the ground. “Sorry.” “You two look all buddy-buddy over there.” Shawn’s eyes narrow. “Buddy-buddy?” Luke laughs. “How old are you? Let’s get out of here.” “Nah, nah…” Shawn gestures, making him stumble as he comes my direction. “I’m stayin’ here with my girl.” “Your girl is my sister.” Ben stands up taller and then laughs, so hard that he’s wiping away tears—I have no idea why it’s so hysterical that Shawn and I are together. Shawn takes the last few steps to reach me. The smell of

beer hits me before his warmth does. “Well, I got you guys home. I’m going to finish out the night.” Ben waves once over his shoulder, and starts toward the path back to the beach. I’m not sure if I react, or if either of the other guys reacts to Ben leaving, because Shawn is staring at me. “Did you not want me here?” His voice is low. His dark eyes and tight face warn me to take a step back. “No, of course I do, I…what’s going on with you?” I hate him like this. It’s just not him. If he’d just talk to me, or if we could go back to just hanging out and goofing off or something, maybe this dark part of him would start to fade away. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” His face pulls into a deeper scowl. I take another step back but reach out to him with my hand, hoping somehow, by touching him, it’ll help him relax back into himself. “You just don’t seem like yourself, and…” “If you want to see more of me, then don’t run away from me, babe.” His hands grab my hips, tight. All I can think is how I need to not react, but my chest is all fluttery and my arms go weak. “I’m not running, I…” His brows come down and his eyes turn black, his hands tighten even further. “What the hell would you call it?” A small whimper escapes my throat and Shawn’s torn from his place in front of me. I gasp and jump back, as Shawn spins around to face Luke.

Nothing but breathing. Mine. Luke’s. Shawn’s. Luke’s standing tall. Shawn’s fists are clenched, and I’m sure they’ll fight. They can’t fight. Can’t. Please. Luke’s face breaks into a huge smile; he laughs, and slaps Shawn on the shoulder. I almost collapse in relief. “Let’s get out of here, Shawn. We can head back down or back to my dad’s place. We got Ronnie home for curfew, but that’s no reason for us to call it a night.” Shawn looks back and forth between Luke and I for a few moments. His body wavers a bit before taking two shaky steps towards Luke. “Climb in.” Luke opens the driver’s side door and rests one foot inside. Shawn steps back to me, his anger suddenly forgotten. His lips come at mine in a harsh kiss that tastes like beer, before weaving his way back to the car. Shawn likes to drink, but he’s not usually like this. I wonder if he’ll remember anything tomorrow. I give a small wave as they pull out and almost fall on the front porch steps. Shawn’s been back in Cali for almost a year. Has he just hidden this part of him? Is he changing? Will he change back? Has his dad always been an angry man? I don’t remember that at all. Or are things between them getting worse? Maybe I’m just making too much out of a few small incidents. I mean, he shoulders a lot of responsibility at his dad’s shop—does his anger stem from that, or something else? All I remember from him is sweetness, even from the

months before school started up. None of this makes sense. I love Shawn. I need for him to be the guy I fell in love with. I’m not sure what life would be like without him, and I don’t want to find out. *** I have a text from Shawn in the morning. SHAWN: SORRY. I WAS OUT OF IT LST NIGHT. BRLY REMEMBER WHAT HAPPND. HAV TO GET HOME THIS AM FR WRK. U KNOW BLCK FRI AND ALL THAT. DAD’S BEEN ON A RAMPAGE 2. SORRY AGN. LOV U BABE. I send him an I love you back and roll over in bed, just hoping to get the kind of rest I need while we’re here and away from home. “Ronnie?” Dad knocks on my door. “Come on in.” I don’t move. “I know you hate it when I make small talk to get to my point.” He’s quiet, but his voice is all business. My chest sinks. This means he’s worried about something and wants to start asking personal questions. I roll over to face him. “What is it, Dad?” I want to keep the irritation from my voice, but this weekend has so far not at all been what I needed it to be, and Dad asking personal questions isn’t going to help anything. “Shawn was in rare form last night.” His hands shuffle in his khaki pockets a few times. “Is something going on with

him?” “No. I don’t know.” The words come out slowly. Again. Sucks to have an over-observant shrink for a dad. “You don’t have to answer me.” Silence hangs for a moment. “I’ve already talked to your mother, but we both know she’s colossally unobservant.” I smile. “Dad!” I’m sort of surprised he brings up something we both know, but have never said out loud. “It’s just that I know Shawn was drinking last night. I can no longer stop your brother, him being legal and out of the house and all, but it’s not just that.” Dad’s lips push together like they always do when he’s really thinking. “It’s you. You seem, distant or something. And maybe it’s just normal girl teenage stuff, but I want to make sure everything’s okay.” “Everything’s great, Dad, just a lot going on. I’m probably keeping myself too busy.” Please let this work. “Well, then I’m glad you’re staying behind today.” He lets out a long sigh. “I wish I had the option.” Poor Dad has gotten drug behind Mom for shopping every weekend after Thanksgiving for as long as I can remember. “Sorry.” “Your brother is joining us, so enjoy the alone time, okay?” He grabs my foot under the covers and gives it a squeeze. “Thanks.” And now I’m suddenly glad my dad’s a shrink because he’s observant enough to know I need time. Why does everything have to have two sides like this? “See you.” He stands up and walks out. I’m going to have to do better at not looking distracted,

frustrated and busy. Dad’s not one to let things go. *** I shuffle my way up the stairs to the kitchen. The clock reads just after noon. Wow. A shadow passes the kitchen door and someone’s knock makes me jump. My heart speeds. Who on earth would be here? I slowly open the door. “Luke?” “Hey.” His smile is easy and his hands rest in his front pockets. Ferris Bueller t-shirt today. “Come on in. I’m about to make breakfast.” I open the door wider. “Breakfast?” His brows go up. “It’s like, noon.” “You’ve never had breakfast at noon?” I tease. “Point made.” He grins. “Everyone left early. I needed an alone day,” I explain. Something to make me feel like I’m getting my head back on straight. “Oh.” His brows come together. “I’ll take off. I was just bored. Mom and Dad fought over me for Thanksgiving. He won, but he’s meeting some people for golf today.” I know that Luke’s maybe part of my confusion, and why I need space, but he’s also the easiest person to be lazy with. And today, that’s exactly what I need. “I’m glad you’re here. Saves me from my circling thoughts.” I back up and step into the kitchen. Luke follows, shutting the door behind him. “And what are your thoughts circling around?”

“Worried about Shawn. He hasn’t been himself.” I slide a bagel into the toaster and lean against the counter, still not sure if I want to see what’s in Luke’s eyes for a conversation like this. “I’m sort of worried about him, and you, and…” His voice has this solemn tone I’m just not in the mood for, and his warm hand rests on my arm. “Stop.” I jerk my arm back, and hold my hand between us. “The reason I’m letting you stay is so I don’t have to think about it.” But I have to drop my serious face or he’ll keep at it. Instead I smile, like I’m just teasing and we’re both just fine. “Last night. Is that how he is with you?” Luke’s doing this kicked puppy dog, tilty-face thing. “No. I haven’t seen him drink like that in a long time.” I shift my weight. “Can we be done with this?” “I know his dad’s business isn’t doing as well as he needs it to, but Shawn’s dad being angry doesn’t make it okay for Shawn to hurt you.” Luke’s eyes are so intent, full of concern. I take a hard swallow before finding my voice. “Now are you done?” “Done.” He lets out what’s probably a frustrated sigh. “But, Ronnie? I’m not going to let it go.” Perfect. “Luke, I need you to be my comfortable place, and—” “And you really want me to drop it.” His arm reaches out like he’s going to hug me or hold me, but it drops back to his side.

“Thanks.” I really shouldn’t be wishing he’d take me in his arms. If I knew I could curl up on him, have him comfort me, and not bring it up again, I’d do it. But he will bring it up again. I’m crazy. I turn away from his brown eyes and slather cream cheese on the bagel as it burns my fingertips, still too hot from the toaster. Keeping busy seems like the best way to avoid. I hand one to Luke, avoiding eye contact, and start for the stairs. “There’s soda down here.” Anything to

prevent silence. He steps down behind me and stops when he sees the sprawling mass of blankets spread over the floor. “What is this?” His brows pull in confusion for a moment, and a smile spreads. “Blanketopia.” My heart jumps, and I spin to face him. That’s a me and Mindy thing. “How do you know about that?” “You and Mindy used to keep some sort of notebook, and you guys told me.” He sits with his back against the couch, crossing his legs, making full use of the blankets and pillows spread out on the floor. My chest tightens. This can’t be. No one knows about the notebook. “We told you about the notebook?” I wonder if I’ll be able to swallow my bagel? He takes a big bite. “Yeah, but you never let me look at it.” “Well…no.” Obviously. I chomp ferociously for a moment before getting the last of my bite down.

He’s watching me way too closely all of a sudden. I want to shrink, hide, move, something. “What?” “You still keep it, don’t you? Your yearly stuff—firsts and all that?” The mischievous look on his face makes my stomach sink. “That’s a kid thing to do.” I grab the remote, turn on the TV, and take the biggest bagel bite I can fit into my mouth so I don’t have to talk. “You two still have that notebook.” He chuckles. “I bet your firsts have really started to veer away from things like blanketopia.” My cheeks redden. “So, what was your thing this year?” My eyes fix on the screen. “I told you. We don’t do that.” “Come on.” His bagel hand rests on his lap. “Please?” He grins, batting his eyelashes, knowing he’s about to get his way. Crap. “My thing this year was to try out for theater.” Silence. His large hand rests on my shoulder. “And you did it. And look what happened. You’re the lead in a production that’s going to be absolutely incredible, in part because of you.” And now Romeo must be bleeding into this conversation because there’s no other way to explain how he’s looking at me. And I must be holding on to some of Juliet; otherwise I wouldn’t be feeling so warm and tingly with his hand on my arm. I nod. And then the firsts start popping into my head, the

ones I’m not supposed to be thinking about—the ones having to do with me suddenly liking Luke’s eyes on me, and the ones with bruises from Shawn. It all just feels spiraling, swimming, drastically out of control. In thirty minutes we’re sunk low into blanketopia watching some movie from the eighties, and Luke and I are in that comfortable silence that comes with being long-time friends. His head rests on one stack of pillows, mine rests on another. “I need to stretch out.” I slump down and straighten my legs out toward the TV. He does the same. If it were any other guy this would not be an okay thing to do while dating someone else, but it’s Luke. The guy I’ve known for years. The warmth of his body so close to me is comforting, nice. And with the stress of yesterday, exactly what I need. I must stop using need, Luke, and weekend in the same thought. I turn slightly to look at him but our eyes meet, sending butterflies into my stomach, which is totally wrong, because it’s just me and Luke and he should NOT be giving me butterflies. Still, I can’t look away. Not from him. Not when his eyes are holding me like this. I have never felt so naked. Not in the shower. Not for the doctor’s appointment Mom made me go to for birth control, and I don’t know how I feel about it. How I should feel about it. Probably I need to look away because when two people are looking at each other in the way Luke and I are…it’s just not good. I have Shawn. Our eyes stay locked for another moment before I have to turn back to the movie. Am I seeing or feeling things that

aren’t here? Or, are our roles in the play really just starting to mix with real life? “Thanks for coming over,” I say, keeping my eyes on the TV. “Thanks for letting me.” His eyes are still on me, and I have to look again. Part of me wishes, right now, that I could just fall. Just like Laura said I should do as Juliet. Only the part of me that wants to fall now isn’t Juliet. It’s Ronnie. I’m a horrible person for thinking this, especially when I already know my future, but Luke is so warm, so easy. His golden-browns are unwavering. I close my eyes and think about what it feels like to kiss him as Romeo. What would it be like to kiss him as Luke? His fingertips would touch my chin spreading goose bumps and anticipation. He’d be as careful as he is while he’s Romeo, but after our lips brushed a few times, he wouldn’t be as careful. Wow. I’m sunk here. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I can’t let the thought or the imagined feeling of a kiss settle in too deeply, but it all floats in anyway. His cocky Romeo smile, the way our hands feel together, the way his lips feel on mine, so warm, so sweet… “You okay?” he asks. “Yeah.” I make something that sounds like a strangled half-giggle. This is not something I can think about. He scoots closer. Our legs touch. “I’m having kind of a crappy weekend. You don’t mind being next to me, do you?” he asks.

I need to scream. Yes! Yes I mind being this close to you! I’m in love with Shawn! This isn’t fair to him! He’s going through so much! “No.” I scoot over until our pillows are together. We’re touching from shoulder to toes. And even though I slept in this morning, the stress of everything is wearing on me. Touching Luke like this should have me strung up high and tight, but it doesn’t now that we’re together. My body relaxes as the warmth of him seeps in. Luke is easy. The movie continues to play in the background as my lids get heavy. With the warmth of my blanket and Luke, and my massive blanketopia, I drift off to sleep. My dreams float from the play to the beach. Romeo kisses my forehead and pushes the hair off my face. Then he just walks away. I don’t remember lying down in the play. I don’t know this part. And then the dreams disappear, leaving nothing but blissful blankness. When I wake up, Luke’s gone. The house feels stark and empty—kind of like I’m starting to feel. So hollowed out I’m not sure what’ll replace this empty feeling. My senior year isn’t supposed to feel this confusing. It’s supposed to be the highlight of high school—me with the boy I’ve loved practically my whole life, enjoying the feeling of being on the edge of something great, amazing, lifechanging. But it doesn’t feel like any of those things. It feels like I’m on a tightrope, just doing whatever I can to keep my balance. The problem is that it appears I really suck at it.

~ 12 ~ I WAS BARELY SIXTEEN… …and his apology changed my world. Shawn’s mom drove back to visit us for a weekend. She hoped they’d be able to move back sometime over the next year. I think her and my mom conspired on that one for a long time. As soon as he came in the door his arms were around me, parents forgotten. “Can we talk?” “We can talk,” I whispered back. He took my hand and led me to the pool. “I’m not dating anyone or anything. I want you to know that. And when I talk to you, or see you, I don’t know why I ever even looked at anyone else.” His dark eyes held so much love it filled my chest to bursting. “You were right. We never talked about it.” And so it wasn’t even like I needed to forgive him. There was really nothing to forgive. “But you haven’t. Seen anybody?” His body moved closer, hoping for an answer. “Just for dances and group stuff.” I move my legs making swirls on the surface of the water. “Have you kissed anyone else?” “Spin the bottle at some party. That’s it.” I shrugged.

Just my friend Luke. But I didn’t say that. Luke was Shawn’s friend, too. “I never want to feel another girl’s lips as long as I live.” WOW. I leaned in toward him, hoping for a kiss. He didn’t disappoint. *** Shawn’s been drinking. The smell of beer hits me the second I step into his room Sunday evening. I haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving night and the party at the beach. We haven’t even talked, just texted because he’s been at work. Some people are all happy and giddy when they’re drunk, and some are like Shawn. His dark mood fills the room, making me heavy. Three days of doing everything in my power to relax and push off this weight, and just two steps from the hallway to his room, it’s all back…and then some. I smile big—maybe I can push this away. Help him somehow. Was he like this all weekend? Drinking? “Hey, there.” How bad are things at his house? That has to be what’s going on. This tense, dark person isn’t Shawn. “Yeah.” He pulls his can of beer to his lips and drinks a few long swallows. “Your parents gone?” I ask. His eyes finally focus on me. “Uh…yeah.” He holds up his beer can, eyes wide. I hate this expression—the one that makes me feel stupid.

“Right.” There’s no good place for my hands, or my body, and I’ve never felt so awkward in his room—like I don’t know where to be, where to sit, what to do. Some guy movie rattles in the background. “Want one?” “Maybe one.” I shrug. The chances of us having a nice hangout night are slim. He reaches over the side of his bed and opens a can for me. “Thanks.” I take a small swallow and set it on his side table. “Come sit.” He pats the bed. His eyes are having a hard time focusing. “You shouldn’t just stand way up there.” I sit, but I’m not sure how close I should be, or where I should be, and why did he have to be drinking tonight when we haven’t really seen each other? “How’s the play going? With your other little boyfriend?” Even the edges of his speech are slurred. My stomach sinks. Other little boyfriend? Where did that come from? “You’re it for me, Shawn. I love you.” I lean towards him, putting our faces close and trying to forget what it felt like to be this close to Luke on the floor of our beach house. All I smell is beer, and I can’t really feel anything outside of being strung up tight, and attempting my desperate balancing act. “Good.” He sets his beer down and kisses me. His mouth is rough and hard against mine. The prickles of his stubble burn my lips, but it doesn’t feel like he’s going to stop anytime soon. Doesn’t he feel that I’m only half here?

Or worse, maybe he doesn’t care. What will happen if I ask him to slow down? My stomach tightens and I’m not sure I want to find out, which sends my body to the edge of something I don’t want to feel. Real fear, the kind that trembles knees and starts panic. He pushes us over in his bed so that he’s on top of me. And normally this is okay, this is what we do, but the weight of him feels different. Forceful and sloppy. Scary. “Just your panties off. Please?” he whispers. My heart races. “You’re drunk, Shawn.” But I barely get out the words as his mouth comes down on mine again and again. I’m sucking in air every time his mouth moves, but the force of Shawn is stealing oxygen from my lungs. His hands slide up my legs, under my long dress and tug on the top of my underwear. No, no, no. Not like this. “Shawn, I…” He sits up and rips them off in one long pull. I’m so thankful for my long dress, keeping me from being even more exposed. I sit up, my heart frantic. Is this what date rape is like? Will we just go all the way? Can I stop it? Should I stop it? Do I just get it over with? The thought of going all the way in his dim room with some stupid guy movie playing in the background makes my stomach turn. He’s not at all himself. Neither of us should want it like this, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stop him. Do I just push away and run? “Don’t worry.” His eyes still can’t stay still long enough to focus on mine. “I’ll be nice.” His fingers slide down my

cheek like they always do. My body shakes in response, completely weakened by fear. He moves closer, scooting us together. His hand starts at my calf and begins to travel up the inside of my shaking leg. “Please, don’t.” My words shake, my lips tremble, but I can’t make my arms push him away. “Not tonight.” I’m blinking back tears. What is this? “Then what fucking night Ronnie! Huh?” He raises off me to slam his fist against the wall above my head. “Whoa…” Luke steps in. Shawn leans back and freezes. His jaw set. “You invited me over for a beer?” Luke chuckles, doing an amazing job of diffusing. His eyes dart quickly between me—probably visibly shaking—and Shawn, wavering with drunkenness above me. I’m too relieved to be as humiliated as I’m sure to be tomorrow. All I want is home. I gasp in air when my body realizes I forgot to breathe. My legs shake. My hands shake. My insides shake. My eyes aren’t working right either from disbelief, fear, or both. “Ronnie looks beat. Why don’t we hang and play Xbox for a bit?” Luke leans down and gets a beer, but I’m sure he knows exactly what’s going on. He stands, rests his weight on one leg and takes a long swallow. I run my hands down my dress to make sure it covers me, it does. I just want out. To be anywhere but here. “Fine. Whatever.” Shawn glares at me as he waves his hand between us, like dismissing me from his presence.

I slowly stand from the bed, amazed my legs allow me to stand. Part of me wants to find my panties, but more of me just wants home. “See ya.” I start to the door on trembling legs. But it’s not just my legs that are weak. My world is upside down. Now I get it. This is all too real to be real. “Do I get a kiss?” Shawn’s wavering eyes find mine. Luke’s hand carefully touches my lower back, out of sight. “Let the girl go, she doesn’t want to play Xbox.” Luke laughs. I make it to the door in two steps. “Call if you need me,” Luke mouths. I have no idea what I look like, but I’m sure it’s terrible. The room is blurry, the hallway and dark house fade in and out of focus as I head for the door and finally make it into the cool, night air. I’m just waiting to get to my house, then I can crumple; just a couple more driveways and then I have safety. I step inside my front door and the first sob hits my body as I suck in another breath, hand over my mouth. “Honey?” Mom steps out of the kitchen. Her arms are around me in a minute. “Ronnie, what happened?” I shake my head. There’s no talking about it. Not with them. Not right now. My legs start to buckle and she grabs my waist, helping me to our living room. Dad half catapults his chair at the sight of us. I sit on the end of the couch, pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms tightly around me. Smaller is better. Smaller is safer.

“Ronnie!” Mom’s voice sounds desperate as she kneels in front of me. “What happened?” I shake my head. “We need to know.” Mom’s face is close. I can’t tell them. How do I start that conversation? It just surprised me. Shawn surprised me. But I wasn’t only surprised, I was scared. Shawn scared me. I choke back a few more sobs. The room refuses to come into focus. There’s one fuzzy blob that’s Mom, and one that’s Dad. “Ronnie.” Dad sits close enough that I feel his warmth as he rests a hand on my foot. “You don’t have to talk, but I need to know if anyone’s hurt, okay? Do I need to call the cops or an ambulance or anything?” I shake my head. No way. “We need to know what happened,” Mom demands. I’m coherent enough to know Mom threw Dad a look as she made that comment. My eyes widen as I look at Dad. I can’t tell them. “Let me go to my room.” He reaches out and touches my foot. “Ronnie. Please stay here. You don’t have to talk.” I nod. And part of me wants to be here in the living room, where it’s open, where I can breathe, and the other part of me wants to hide in the bottom of my closet. My eyes close. I just need to learn to keep away from him when he’s been drinking. But I also need to keep away when he’s tense. And…it all seems so hard. But it’s Shawn. He’s everything—the warmth, and the sweetness, and the boy I’ve known since I was a kid. I can’t even think about

what I’d do without that. Without him. I squeeze my eyes tight in the corner of the couch and wish beyond anything I’ve ever wished for to fall asleep and forget. *** I wake in the morning, still on the couch, to see a note from Dad on the coffee table.

If you need to talk, let me know. If you need to talk to someone who isn’t your mom or I, also let me know. No questions, promise. Love you, Dad His few words bring last night crashing down on me, and the weight of the memories settles on my shoulders. Who would I talk to? What would I say? Anyone who doesn’t know Shawn would just misunderstand. It’s temporary. He didn’t used to be so intense. He’ll mellow back out. I stand in the bathroom, taking off my clothes from yesterday and of course I’m missing my underwear. It’s so weird, that whole thing. So weird. I spend a ridiculous amount of time in a hot shower and find my favorite t-shirt dress to wear to school. Last night is over. I’m okay. Everything’s okay. I need school. I need normal. But the reality of Shawn hurting me, scaring me, hits me again. I can’t even think about what would have happened if Luke

hadn’t shown up. That thought needs to be shaken off. It’s too big. Too much to think about. My sandals squeak on the wood floors of the hallway as I make my way to the kitchen for breakfast. Right now I just hope my parents are gone for the day. “I heard what happened at Shawn’s,” Mom says as I step into the kitchen. My legs buckle, and I lean against the counter for support as my insides begin to break apart. Luke? It has to be. Shakiness is replaced by anger, he had no right. I’m going to kill him. I shove off the counter, my jaw tight. “You could have told us, honey.” She clutching her mug as if it’ll hold her to the table—anchor her somehow. I close my eyes, but that doesn’t help me block out the memory. I rub my hand over my face as if the friction or pressure will somehow make me feel normal again—rub away the anger and disbelief. “If you need to take a day off of school, I understand.” My cheeks redden. “I don’t need a day from school.” And I’m not sure why I’m fighting this. “Well, Ronnie. Shawn’s been through a lot.” Mom’s voice is laced with impatience.

What? Shawn? “With Diane kicking out his dad and everything. It’s so unexpected.” Her knuckles are white and I wonder if she’ll break her cup. My eyes find Mom’s. And I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I have to hide my shock, because right

now my parents think my freak out last night was for Shawn’s parents, not for myself. That’s way better. His parents split? No wonder he was so crazy last night. I bet he knew over Thanksgiving…and all I could think about was some time alone. He needed me, and I was trying to get away. Now guilt starts to ease into my chest, and if any more emotions hit me this hard today, I’m bound to explode. I have to clear my throat twice before I find my voice. “Yeah.” “He might really need you, honey. If you need to stay over there instead of school, it’s okay.” She’s still clutching her coffee cup with both hands. How do I tell her I need school? Distance, even though it seems completely selfish of me. “We talked. I’m going to school.” I turn and walk out of the house before she can say anything else. My mind is reeling. No wonder Shawn was so wasted. Why didn’t he just say? Maybe I could have handled something better? Different? Anyone would snap under that much stress. Poor Shawn. And once again, I feel like I’m abandoning him by going to school. I have no idea what to do because after last night, the last thing I want to do is see or talk to him—at least not for a while. And there’s no way for me to even consider the long-term implications of me not wanting to be around Shawn. That’s shattering. Just, for right now, I need some space. That doesn’t mean we’d have to be over. Final. My heart’s

starting to swirl as much as my head and my emotions are as lost as my thoughts.

~ 13 ~ I WAS SIXTEEN YEARS OLD… …when he moved back into town. It happened over Christmas break. Mom kept going on and on about some big surprise. Nothing I could know about. I knew my brother Ben wasn’t the surprise because he was just home from college, and already there. And anyway, he wouldn’t really be considered a surprise. Shawn stepped into my room just before I turned out the lights the day after Christmas. He’d changed so much. He looked so…mature. His shoulders were way broader than the guy I’d kissed over the summer, and his voice was a guy’s voice. Not a boy’s voice. The soft lowness of it vibrated through me when he spoke. “Good surprise?” A corner of his mouth pulled up. “Great surprise.” My arms went around him and that was the first time I’d ever kissed a guy on my bed. It went in the book. I heard my parents arguing about how much time to give us before Dad came to check on us. Shawn chuckled between kisses. He gave me my first real gift from him that night. The bracelet I still wear. The one with the small coin with Shawn on one side and Ronnie on the other. Part of me

always fantasized on wearing that bracelet forever— through college, at our wedding. Kid fantasies maybe, but they always felt real to me. I’d known him for too long to think of him as anything less than a forever thing. *** Luke steps behind me in the hallway at school. “What are you doing here?” he whispers. “Going to class?” I tease without pausing. Today my plan is to keep everyone at a distance. “Have you told anyone?” Our eyes don’t meet. We’re walking side by side, and we both know exactly what he’s talking about. “What?” Play innocent, right? “That answers my question.” He glances away and then back at me, his jaw tightens briefly in what I assume is irritation. “Ronnie you have to talk to someone. We can talk, or go to the school nurse, she’d actually know stuff, you know? Tell your parents. This can’t keep happening.” “It won’t.” And I’ve just thought of the reason why. “With his parents separated, their house will be a lot less tense. It’ll be okay.” It has to be okay. “This is killing me.” He stops and like a moron, I stop next to him. “Are you honestly staying with him after last night?” “I…” But I’m not sure how to answer. I don’t know. How can I not know when we’re talking about Shawn? “He was drunk, Luke. His mom just kicked out his dad…” “You promised.” Luke’s face is inches from mine, and I

swear his brown eyes see straight into me. He has to know everything now—how I love Shawn, but don’t know what to do with what happened last night and maybe, maybe he even knows how he’s been confusing me. “You said that if anything else happened, you’d walk away. I’ve been going crazy for you, worried about you.” He pulls in a breath. “It was awful to just watch you walk out last night, knowing the best thing I could do was keep him busy.” “This is different.” I shake my head. Even Luke, Shawn’s best friend, doesn’t understand. “His dad was arrested this morning. His mom’s been keeping photos. It’s bad.” His warm breath hits my face as he speaks. My stomach shrinks and I can barely breathe. It’s so dramatic. Does that make me feel better about Shawn or worse? Everything’s too mixed up for me to know right now. “He’s never hit me, Luke.” And yes, even I know what I’m saying is pathetic. “But you’ve worn long-sleeves to cover what he’s done.” His fingers slide down my arm sending shivers through my body. I don’t speak. Instead my eyes stare at the grey carpet. It’s just that Shawn and I are different from other people who argue. I’m not the girl Luke thinks I am. I’m not some kind of pathetic victim. I’m trying to help Shawn and I stay together. “Ronnie, I saw your panties on the floor. Did you take them off, or did he?” His voice is quiet, but his words

scream, piercing my chest, my head, and dig in way too deep. I spin and walk away—heart breaking, scattering. And tears sliding down my cheeks. I skip play practice. They can work on fight scenes or something today, but Ronnie/Juliet doesn’t have it in her to stand that close to Luke. *** Mom’s question accosts me the second I step inside the house. “Did you know what was happening between his parents?” “No.” Even though part of me suspected after hearing them yell in his house. At the very least, I wasn’t as surprised as I should have been when I heard. “I’m shocked.” Mom shakes her head. “Diane never breathed a word. Ever. The only thing she’s ever said about him is to make a comment about him being particular, or having a bad week. We all have bad weeks.” I give her a quick hug, and start toward my room. “I have homework.” This whole mess brings out too much. Did Shawn’s dad start out like he did? Just getting frustrated. Then holding his mom. Making sure she knew he was serious. How did I find myself here? My phone rings. SHAWN. I answer, but don’t speak.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after yesterday,” he says. “I…” But that’s all I have. Words won’t come. Not yet. “It’s fine, Ronnie. I wouldn’t have wanted to see me either. I’m sorry. I’m guessing you know everything.” His voice is tired, depressed, low. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” It would have explained so much, shown so much. “It’s just not…I don’t know.” His voice is so quiet that I can barely make out the words over the phone. “You know I love you and that I want to know about your life, right?” This morning, I wasn’t sure when or how I’d talk to Shawn again. I’m one of only a few friends he has, but I’m just not sure what to do. The sadness in his voice touches me in a familiar place of wanting us. But his voice also reminds me of our night last night. We’re up to four incidents now. Four. This is some big sign for me to run, but he’s not just my boyfriend, he’s my childhood friend. It feels too cruel to desert him now. “Yeah.” He lets out a long breath. “I’m going to give you some time. Mom wants out of town for a few days. I just…I need you to forgive me, Ronnie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” And his words are honest, and the feeling behind them is honest, and why does this all have to be so hard? “Love you, Shawn. Don’t be afraid to call, okay?” And now I’m mumbling out the words, which really isn’t fair because of all the times he’s needed me, this is probably when he’s needed me most. I feel like I’m letting him down

because I’m not being more persistent or forcing him to do or say anything. But I just don’t have it in me. We sit in silence until I hang up the phone. Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could walk away.

His fist against the wall, my underwear scraping my legs as he jerked them off. The feeling is etched in forever. But the thing is—walking away—it just isn’t me. And love means more than just giving up when things aren’t perfect. Again—his fist against the wall, his hands on my wrists. I jump when my phone rings. LUKE. My heart sprints. What do I do? I do nothing and then get a text. LUKE: MISSED U AT PRACTICE. PLEASE LET ME KNOW UR OK. I don’t know if it’s sweet or frustrating that he’s worried about me like this. I type, I’M OK, and hit send, even though I’m pretty far from okay. *** “Did you two talk?” Luke asks the minute he sees me in the hall. “Yep.” But I know Luke won’t stop with this. He’ll want to know more. Luke stops too close, my back against the wall. This is my friend. The guy I know better than probably anyone. Better than Shawn even, but maybe only because Shawn couldn’t share with me. The familiar smell of

sandalwood and coconut helps my body relax, even though we shouldn’t be this close. But now I also don’t know if I want him to step away. There’s this delightful dancing, tingling in my stomach that I love. There’s no way for me to feel more messed up if I tried. Luke. Shawn. Familiar. Love. Fear. Betrayal. All of those words fit both of them, and swirl around in my head leaving me beyond confused. “Please tell me you walked away from him.” “I can’t.” I shake my head. “Not right now. Not with everything he has going on.” “He’s an asshole, Ronnie. How can you even think about being with someone like that?” His face is wrinkled in confusion, and his voice is a harsh whisper. “You’re so much smarter than this.” “If you think he’s such a jerk, why are you still friends with him?” I cross my arms, clutching my book to my chest. Our eyes meet. Now I have him. “Because.” He lets out a sigh and I know there’s something hanging between us. No more guessing. His face comes closer to mine. His eyes are soft. Like a moron, I breathe in again, sending another wave of tingling through my body. “Because you are.” It’s all crashing in. All the extra looks, divided attention with his girlfriends, watching out for me with Shawn… “When he came back into town last year, I realized that you two were as close as you’d said. I knew the only way to keep being friends with you was to be friends with him.” No, no, no. This is not good. Me feeling a little more

toward Luke than what I should is okay, it’s temporary, from the play. Him feeling more for me…wait. “But you date.” “And how long does it last?” His eyes. They won’t let me go, they hold me to this spot, to his face. “I didn’t know…” But you did know, Ronnie, and you let it

happen. “I hide it well.” His eyes dart around for a moment before finding mine once again. I shake my head. “You know I can’t.” Shawn and I belong together. It’s why I’m with him and why we work together, why I deal with so much of what I do. Because part of me still wants him forever, and I know this weirdness from him won’t last. Can’t. “Not now, no.” And that hopeful look is back. “Because you feel guilt over things that aren’t your fault. But maybe soon.” “He’s it for me, Luke.” I think. But the longer you stand

close, the less sure I am. Luke’s face falls. “He can’t be. It can’t be possible for someone like him to get someone like you.” If he only knew how bad I screw things up. Like how I say the wrong things, like giving Shawn a hard time for making me sneak out. Or how I wear my stupid shoes, even though I love him, and even though it makes him uncomfortable. How I should be way more understanding of his faults. “No. Trust me, Luke.” I start to turn away, but stop when he leans even further towards me. “I don’t believe in one person for one person. It doesn’t

make any sense. When you’re in love, when you feel it in your chest and it takes you over—it feels like you’re part of something like that, and it should. But it’s not real. You can be happy without him. You can be happy with someone else. He’s not the only one for you.” His words fold upon me, tightening something inside me and I don’t know if it’s good or bad or how it might sway me, but his words are changing. I just need to figure out if I can change, or if I want to. “Be careful.” He leans forward, rests his hand on my face, and his lips touch my cheek. His simple gesture sends shivers through my body, swirling around the uncertainties that already cloud my thoughts. I’m frozen to the spot for a moment. “I know how to deal with Shawn. I’m okay.” But I know nothing right now. With the new something I do know, I know nothing. “You know how to deal with him. That again?” His voice is harder now. “Don’t you think the relationship should be a little more two-sided?” He lets his hand fall from my face and the loss of him is harsh, cold. I start to move away again. Luke can’t be awkward. I can’t lose him like that. “I gotta go.” But part of me doesn’t want to move from this spot. He likes me, and not just a little bit. Should it make a difference? It’s not like I’d be alone if Shawn and I…split. Split. Way too final. He runs a hand through his soft blond hair. “I feel helpless to protect you, Ronnie.” My heart jumps, but I push out a laugh. “I don’t need

protection.” And it’s all over his face. He doesn’t believe me. And right now, even with Shawn out of town, I don’t believe me either.

~ 14 ~ I WAS FOURTEEN… …when Luke’s dad walked out. With my dad being a therapist I knew bad things happened to kids and families all the time, but when it happened to Luke, it felt different. Luke’s like me—the youngest. His older brothers were already gone from home. He was the tail end of his family and even though he never said it out loud, I knew that he often felt like a mistake, an afterthought. “My dad doesn’t want me anymore,” he said. “It’s your parents, Luke. Not you.” We sat in my backyard next to my pool. “But he’s choosing to live a life that doesn’t include me. That means he’s choosing to leave me.” His feet created a boiling surface on the water. And I couldn’t really argue with that logic. I rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” “I’ll be okay.” He said it in his most ‘no-big-deal’ relaxed voice, but I knew him better than that. “Chocolate popcorn?” I asked. “And a really bad movie we can make fun of?” The beginnings of a smile started to play at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll start the food.” I stood up.

“I’ll start the movie.” And that was the beginning of Luke and Ronnie’s movie marathon days. Even at the worst of his partying and never being home and late night phone calls from his mom to my mom, he’d still sometimes take a movie day with me. Normally it was on a day he was suspended and would call in a low voice to excuse me from school, but we still made it happen. Because sometimes all we need is somebody to sit in silence with. *** I head for play practice. My feet are heavy, and I’m wondering if I can just skip again. It’s almost as if Luke’s admission should have me more shocked, but I guess part of me already knew, or suspected. Maybe the really stupid side of me even hoped. Now all I hope is that it’s not awkward to be around him. That would be horrible. My favorite thing about Luke is how comfortable he is. “Wait up!” Mindy calls. “Hey.” I breathe out in relief that it’s her. “Luke said you and I need to get together.” She slides her arm through mine as we walk to the theater. “Yeah.” I squeeze her arm. But she doesn’t say anything else, which makes me think he didn’t tell her anything. Luke’s a good guy—the thought brings tears like weights to the insides of my eyes. “Whoa.” She stops and stares. “What’s going on, Ronnie?”

“So much.” I sniff once and blink to hold in tears. It’s so stupid that I haven’t told her everything. I’m not even sure when the last time was that we just sat and hung out together. “Skip practice, okay? Come with me.” “But…” And then I stop when I realize my first thought, the one that hits my chest, is how much I’ll miss Luke. That’s not good. I love Shawn. “Fine, we’ll take seats in the back and you can go up when they need you.” Her face is set. She means it. I just start walking, unsure if my voice works yet. We find seats in the back. It’s dark here, and my hope is that no one will see us. “We’ll start by going over some of the fight scenes today.” Mr. Blackman calls out before taking his seat. “Okay.” Mindy’s eyes are on me. “Spill.” I slump low, uncertain of where to start. Just then Luke/Romeo and his friends step onto the stage. My breath catches at the sight of him. Have I let myself get too close? What does that say about me? Maybe Shawn did have reason to be mad all those times. “Ronnie?” Mindy’s gaze follows mine to the stage. “Oh.” She smirks as her eyes catch Luke. “Don’t.” I shake my head. Dread seeps in with the realization from both of us. “I love Shawn. I want Shawn. Forever.” But I’m not sure that I mean it anymore. We haven’t talked again. I’m not even sure what we are now. “Ronnie. That’s ridiculous. We’re in high school. You

shouldn’t meet your forever until you’re like twenty-five or something.” She rolls her big blue eyes at me. “It’s not just that, Mindy.” There’s so much more. “What’s goin’ on?” She slouches further into the chair and I follow. I tell her about Luke coming over when I got suspended and how Shawn grabbed my wrist. Her eyes widen in shock. I tell her about going to Shawn’s work and him grabbing my shoulders, and in the parking lot at our school. I tell her about how sweet he was between those incidents and how much I love him and how stressful his life’s been. How his dad’s been hurting his mom. We talk about Thanksgiving and I tell her Luke was there and sort of saved me again from Shawn, and how we snuggled on my super awesome blanketopia and how I ignored the way I felt when we lay together. “He was on the coast visiting his dad?” she asks. “Yeah.” “And his dad ditched him for the day to play golf?” I clutch my stomach. I’m the worst friend ever. He even told me in just about that many words, and I didn’t do anything to help him out. “I feel like the worst person ever.” “That’s ridiculous!” Her whisper is loud enough that probably everyone heard. I crouch lower. “Please tell me there isn’t more. And I can’t believe you haven’t told me this stuff, Ronnie. It’s like you’d rather be alone in this than have help. Even from me ?” Her face is all wrinkled in concern, and I feel like crap.

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s just that I already knew what you’d say.” “Yeah, cause I’d tell you to run away from him and never look back.” Her bright eyes are wide and close to me, scrutinizing, watching, begging to convince me. “Right.” I nod. “And there’s more.” “More ?” She scoots closer. Now we’re on to the other night and the panties, and Luke again, and how mixed up I feel, and that it’s like I’m the most horrible girl in the world and have no idea what to do about it. Her arm comes around me, and I immediately lean into her. “None of this is okay. Is it starting to hit home now that it’s all out there together?” “A bit,” I admit. Talking about all the small incidents at once shows a pattern I don’t want to see. “I’m sure he likes you.” She squeezes. “Luke, I mean.” Right. The other mess. “He told me today.” “Then why don’t you be somewhere safe, and let yourself fall for him?” she pleads. “Cause Luke…he’s damn near perfect.” I breathe in deep, stretching my lungs and ribcage. I’m so tense it hurts. “I still love Shawn. He’s gone through a lot and has kept it all to himself. He deserves more from me than that.” “No, Ronnie.” She shakes her head. “You deserve more than what he’s given you.” And part of me knows she’s right, and part of me has no

idea what would happen if Shawn wasn’t in my life. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t. “Juliet!” Blackman calls. “We’re in need of you!” “I’m going to stand by what I said earlier.” Mindy holds my hand, keeping me from moving away. “Let yourself fall for Luke. He appreciates you. Or just be on your own for a while. Anything would be better than what you’re dealing with.” I open my mouth to argue that Shawn appreciates me, but we don’t have time for that runaround yet. I drag myself to the stage, and all I hope is that Luke and I don’t have to kiss, because my heart can’t handle any more emotional insanity. Not today.

~ 15 ~ I turn off my bedroom light to go sleep and my phone buzzes, followed almost immediately by a soft knock on my window. I pick up my phone. SHAWN: IT’S ME I step to my window and slide it open. Shawn and I stare at one another in silence. He’s like this familiar stranger. I’m not sure how else to describe how I feel about seeing him outside my window. My heart thumps in the silence between us. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “I drove down, just for tonight. I had to see you, Ronnie. Will you come with me?” His dark eyes are pleading. “Give me a sec.” I step back. “Wear pants and a hoodie or something, okay? Leave your mom a note.” He doesn’t say please, but it’s all over his face. “What are we doing?” I whisper. “Trust me, please, for this.” Again, pleading eyes. Trust him. I need to if we’re going to have any kind of future. The problem is that it’s no longer a future I think I want. “I’ll meet you in front.” “Thank you.” He pauses for a moment before stepping back. I scrawl out a note—Shawn wanted to talk, have my cell.

I slide on jeans and grab a hoodie to put over my tank. Am I really doing this? Trusting him enough to be alone with him? Shawn’s leaning against his bike on the road when I step outside. Right. Jeans, hoodie. He’s going to take me on that thing. “Don’t look so worried.” He flashes the smile that makes me remember every stolen moment of happiness, every kiss, every touch, every promise, every desire. I’m lighter. Just a little, but maybe enough. “I’ll try.” But now I’m having a hard time taking my eyes off his face. “I promise to drive careful, okay?” He hands me the red helmet he got me for Christmas last year so I could ride with him. I told him to keep it ‘cause there was no way I was riding that thing, but he wasn’t deterred. “Okay.” I take the helmet and put it on. Why couldn’t he be in his mom’s car? “Where are we going?” “Trust me?” He bends his head down to catch my eyes, hoping I will. This is sort of it, right? Me getting behind him on that thing. To me, getting on the bike means that I’m ready to keep trying with him, keep moving forward. “Okay.” Again, the melt-my-heart smile arrives. But it doesn’t melt me this time, just softens me a little. I climb on behind him and he starts slowly out of the neighborhood. He drives more carefully than he ever has. My arms wrap more tightly around his middle; his warmth

spreading even through my sweatshirt. My eyes close and I think back to the summers on the beach, to the letters we sent to each other for years, to how soft, warm and wonderful he can be. How well I know him, how long I’ve thought of him as someone I’d spend my life with. He weaves easily through the city streets of Modesto and as we close in on our location, I know where we’re going. He’s taking me to one of the places we can always agree on: In-N-Out Burger. We glide into the parking lot. He turns off his bike and unbuckles my helmet for me. The soft, sweet gesture sends butterflies floating and fluttering in my chest and spreading into my stomach. He rests our helmets on his handlebars before turning around and taking my hand so I can swing off his motorcycle. No thinking, no waiting, no pausing. I lean forward and press my lips softly to his. Part of me expects him to take more, but he doesn’t. Our lips linger there, hover around each other until I can feel his smile without looking. “So this is okay?” he asks. “This is okay.” He takes my hand, leads me inside, and we both order fries and a shake. I can’t eat a whole burger in the middle of the night. We take seats outside, and I decide I need to be closer, so I sit between his legs and let his arms come around me from behind. “I’m sorry, Ronnie. My house, my dad.” He lets out a breath. “I didn’t know the extent, but I knew things weren’t

good. I just—I’m not good at talking about things, and I didn’t handle any of it well.” He gives me a squeeze and rests our cheeks together. “It makes me sick to think I ever hurt you.” His fingers slide up and down my arms, touch my hair. I lean away to look in his eyes. “And that I wasn’t able to protect my mom.” I can see him breaking apart in front of me. My hands slide over his, my back rests deeper into his chest. “You scared me, Shawn. How do I know things like that won’t happen again?” “I guess I’m just asking you to trust me again, to know that the guy I’ve been isn’t really me. Things will get better. I’m going to work harder, and we’ll kind of start over.” “So, that’s where we are.” Back to this. Back to Shawn and Ronnie, but are we where we should be? Where I want to be? I’m no longer sure. Does this mean Shawn and Ronnie have changed, or does this mean it’s just going to take some time for us to learn to be together again? “I have a lot of ground to make up with you.” He kisses my cheek and stays close, his nose just touching the side of my face. And the warmth of him, the feel of him is so familiar, it’s like knowing all over again why I love him so much. His fingers run over my bracelet. He presses his thumb and first finger on either side of the coin with our names. “I don’t know what I would have done without you through all this.” My lips meet his before he has time to say anything else,

before I have time to think anything else. The chocolate of my shake mixes with the strawberry of his and I will seriously never get enough of our cool mouths moving together. We sit at our table long after In-N-Out closes their doors for the night. We remember all the silly stuff we did as kids and how desperately we missed each other when we got older and he moved away. We laugh, we sit in silence, and then we talk, and kiss… With this one night, I love Shawn more deeply. Every experience, every hardship we go through together, really will make us stronger, because we love each other enough to try, enough to work through this together. For the first time ever, I enjoy the motorcycle ride back to my house. My legs rest against his, my arms hold our bodies together and, without helmets, it would be pretty ideal. Our kiss goodbye is very different from our kiss hello. It’s like we forget the other person isn’t air—that we don’t need each other to survive. I let myself relax into him like I never do anymore. I’ve missed this so much. And now we have it back. *** Luke and I haven’t spoken since his admission. Our eyes meet throughout the day and I don’t know what’s between us. Friendship? Awkwardness? With Shawn and I starting over there’s just no room for Luke, and it sucks because

with a few simple words, he’s not my comfortable friend anymore. I walk into rehearsal late after gathering my massive amounts of homework and they’ve already started Act II. I’m on stage right, thinking through my lines in the dark. We’re close to show time and we’re not in costume yet, but we’re using the stage lights and sets. It makes it all so much more real. My eyes catch Luke’s across the stage and his gaze hits me in the pit of my stomach. I feel like Ronnie, watching my friend as Romeo, and wanting him. My whole life I’ve rolled my eyes at people who have said it’s possible to feel something for more than one person, yet here I am, feeling exactly that. I may like Luke more than I should, but that doesn’t change how I feel about Shawn—especially after last night. How did I let this happen? I really am the worst kind of person. The blackness of the thought weaves its way through me, pulling me down. The problem is I already know where I’m going to end up. There will be no happy end for Luke and Ronnie; I love Shawn too much. Last night I felt all the best parts of being in love. I can’t give up on that now. “Juliet,” whispers the stage manager. I turn. The realization of the two guys spinsin my head. “You’re on.” Her brows go up. Right. My eyes are on Luke’s again as I step out, but now I get to be Juliet. He’s Romeo. I’m allowed to feel this right now.

This floating, happy lightness that comes with Luke’s eyes. This is part of falling. Part of acting. Part of being Juliet. Okay, I’m lying to myself, but it’s such a delightful lie that I fall into it, embrace it and love it. The warmth of his body overshadows everything as we come together, and I decide that when I’m onstage I’m going to let myself fall. Every night. This is the part of Luke I get to have. The Romeo part. The part of him that gives himself to me. Ignoring the fact that I want him close isn’t going to work. Finding a reason for my desire, like our whole Romeo/Juliet thing, will work. And when this play is over, the way I feel will fade away. It has to. No person could survive being pulled apart like this. Not for long. I let his gaze fill me, make my chest tingle and warm my body. I’m Juliet, and I’m falling. What kind of person does all of this make me—this mixing of what’s real and what’s pretend? I’m not sure. And right now, with Luke’s hands in mine, I don’t care. *** “I can only talk for a sec.” Those are the first words out of Shawn’s mouth when he calls. “Okay.” It seems odd after the incredible night we had last night. I’m sort of camped out on my bed, expecting a marathon ‘late-into-the-night’ chat. “My mom and my aunt are making me crazy up here.” There’s irritation in his voice. The kind that makes me put up walls.

The problem is that walls are exhausting to build and even more tiring to take down. I ripped down a lot of walls last night. My chest aches from the exhaustion of feeling so much. “Sorry.” “Nah, it’s not your problem,” he says. Not my problem? How does that work if we’re Shawn and Ronnie—we’re supposed to be back to two people who love each other. Who want to be together to share things. “But, I thought that’s what we talked about last night. How we should be talking more, and how I want to be a part of what’s going on.” “Trust me, you do not want to be a part of this girl talk.” He pushes out a breath. He sounds on edge and frustrated. What changed from yesterday? “And why’s that?” I try to tease. Maybe if I keep the mood light, we’ll talk. “They just…I know my dad wasn’t perfect, but it’s like they can’t find anything good to say about him at all. Mom loved him for a long time.” “And it sounds like he abused her for a long time.” The words are out before I can even think to stop them. “Well, it’s not like you really know the whole situation, is it?” His voice is hard. Rough. “No. I don’t.” My heart just hurts from the exhaustion of feeling too much. “You never told me.” I hear him take another long breath. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just frustrated.” “So, wanna tell me what’s going on?” Please, talk to me

or our night last night will be for nothing. If you don’t move forward, Luke will draw me in further, and you’re the one I’m supposed to be with. “I guess I want to ask about Luke, but I don’t want to ask because I’m afraid of what you’re going to say.” His voice has the raw, honest edge I’m always looking for from him. I don’t know how to answer him honestly without betraying how I feel. “You’re it for me, Shawn. I…” “It’s just, the way he looks at you, sometimes, or…” Can I lie? To Shawn? “I can’t do anything about what Luke does. But I love you.” That’s it. Simple. And all true. It’s not the whole truth, but it is all true. The part of my brain that’s screaming at me to do the right thing is not going to be heard, not right now. Right now lies of omission aren’t lies. Not to me. “Sorry I’ve been so crazy. I promise when I get back into town things will be more relaxed again. You’re almost done with the play. My dad’s gone. It’ll be easier.” But it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, which sinks me further. “Can’t wait to see you.” “We’ll talk tomorrow, right?” But his voice doesn’t have the sweet urgency I want when we’re about to say goodbye. “Tomorrow,” I agree. And the weight that Shawn and I got rid of last night is settling back in. This sucks.

~ 16 ~ My phone’s crammed against one ear, and my hand’s flat against the other trying to hear Shawn. I’m in the backyard, but the music carries well. “You’re making it back in time to see at least the last performance, right?” I ask. “Yeah. Mom said we’ll be back. What is going on ?” “I’m at the cast party. Dress rehearsal tomorrow night.” He knows this. Or he should know this. We’ve talked. “Is Mindy with you?” he asks. “No, she’s grounded. Her and Paul took a bottle of her dad’s wine the other night and he found out. Then, her and Paul split. So she’s stuck at home and kind of mad about the whole thing.” I feel bad for her, and it’s almost weird being here, but she’d hate me to miss my cast party. “Well, Mindy’s always had a short attention span.” What ? “Uh…that’s my friend you’re talking about.” Hopefully I put enough tease in my voice for him to not be angry. “I’m just saying it like it is, Ronnie.” His voice is totally unapologetic. “She’s never with anyone for long.” “Because we’re in high school. We should be able to date around, or whatever.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know it’s the stupidest thing I could have said. “Oh. Yeah. That’s real nice.” He doesn’t even try to hide

the anger in his voice, and I can hardly blame him. What’s with me? “Ronnie!” Julie calls. She’s the stage manager, and she really manages. A lot. But she’s good at it, so no one seems to mind. “Coming!” I yell back. “And that means you’re ditching me for your party.” I can picture him now. Pouty face, leaning away from me, hoping I lean in. But I’m not going to. Not right now. “If you were here I’d be kissing all over you in their backyard.” I make a kissing sound into the phone and then laugh. There’s too much lightness at the party for me to take him too seriously. Mostly I’m determined that he’s not going to ruin this for me. “Text me when you get in, okay?” he asks. “Of course. Love you.” “Love you.” And I take a deep breath now that we’re off the phone. Time to relax and enjoy myself. “Ronnie…” Luke grabs my hand and pulls me back inside. “June keeps begging me for a dance. Save me.” I throw my arms around him as he moves us to the music. Dancing with Luke is fun. He pulls me close, pressing our stomachs and hips together. “Way too sexy, Luke.” I shake my head. “Relax, Ronnie.” He widens his eyes. “You’ve made your stance on Shawn and all things to do with the romance department very clear.” “Okay.” I let myself smile at the dimples in his cheeks.

“Just so we’re clear.” “Now, would you relax and just enjoy yourself?” His arms drop to the lowest part of my waist, keeping us together. We don’t have to think or coordinate, we just move together. Thighs touching, hips touching, and I stop myself twice from running my hands down his chest. It’s hot in here and hard to breathe, and I must be exerting myself more than I thought because my heart’s beating hard and fast. Then the music slows and I melt into him. Melt. More than just hips and stomachs now; my nose almost touches the side of his neck as we slowly swing to the music. His arms tighten around me, and mine around him. My life would be a lot easier if Luke didn’t feel so good, but I trust him. Of course he feels good. With no warning, he jerks away. “Just a sec. I gotta pee.” I stand in mild shock as he turns and walks off. What was that ? Way too much. Way too close. And what on earth made him half run away from me? “Did you and Shawn split?” Julie asks. I spin to face her. “No, why?” Her eyes meet mine and then follow the trail Luke just took. Right. My chest drops into my stomach clenching together in something like dread. Luke and I are probably dancing in a way we shouldn’t. And back to my original thought—I’m horrible because I really loved it and I still miss the heat of him against me. ***

Luke stops his car in my driveway, but I can’t make myself get out. I’m not ready for my night to be over. It seems weird to be sitting in this quiet car, afraid to look at him, afraid of what I’ll see, but my eyes find him anyway. His are on me, like I knew they would be. Kind, smiling, patient, waiting— everything I don’t deserve. The guilt and love at the way he’s looking at me hit from two different directions. My swirling emotions are more like a waterfall. I just don’t know which way I’ll end up, which one will win—the warmth of Luke, or the guilt of Shawn. “I had fun, thanks.” How lame am I? He leans toward me and pulls us into a hug. A hug that’s as warm, soft and patient as his eyes. My body starts to pull away but I can’t let him go, not yet. There’s just heartbeats and breathing. His hand rests softly on the back of my neck, keeping us together. Our cheeks almost touch, and when I look down I see his lips. The lips I’ve kissed so many times over the past weeks. But now he’s Luke, not Romeo. This means I’m not allowed to feel them. I may have convinced myself to do all sorts of horrible things lately—dancing, brushing off Shawn, but not this. This, I know, is off limits. We sit for minutes, seconds, hours before I pull away to stare at my lap because one more look from those eyes and I’ll forget I’m not the kind of girl who kisses one boy while loving another. I’m the kind of girl who believes in love and being faithful and… His fingers touch my hand. Somehow it’s even more intimate than our hug. Different.

Shivers run through me as his fingers slide through mine. Our fingertips touch, our palms slide together and I’m helpless to do anything but watch. I force a swallow down my throat so I can breathe, but now there’s no way he can’t hear me breathing because I can hear me breathing, and nothing else. Why does he have to feel so good? His voice is a faint whisper, “Ronnie, I…” “Shhh.” I need silence. It helps me just feel, and I’m terrified of what he might say. I’m not sure if I could say ‘no’ to Luke right now. I shift sideways in my seat and continue to stare at our entwined hands. My eyes close as his fingers start to trace patterns on my palm, the back of my hand, my wrist, my arm. My heart’s flying. The sweetness and softness of him holds me to this spot. My eyes find his and it’s too much. It would be so easy just to lean forward and have this. His lips would be as soft as his fingers, and I could feel him through me. His thumb catches my bracelet. My stomach hits the floor and my insides shake and melt away. Shawn. I jerk my hand from the warmth of his and find the door handle. “I have to go.” I can’t look back. I don’t look back. I just get out the car and run for my front door. My heart’s hammering. My lungs forgot how to breathe. How long has it been since holding hands was that—amazing ? And tonight just adds to the

many reasons I’m becoming a terrible person.

~ 17 ~ I arrive at dress rehearsal way early just so I can hide in the girls’ dressing room. I came to a conclusion last night—I’m falling for Luke because I’m playing Juliet and Juliet’s falling for Romeo. Only the realization goes deeper, because part of me has really, seriously fallen for him. All I hope right now is that when this play’s over, we’ll separate and I’ll forget some of what I feel for him, because continuing to be split like this would be torture. When Romeo and Juliet is over this will be over. Done. Finished. I’m giving myself these last few days of Juliet before walking away. The thought of walking away from him is like a punch to the gut, one that really knocks the air out of me. Done. Finished. Both words are too heavy. *** My first scene goes by fairly quickly—just me and my parents, but my insides are quivering at the thought of my first scene with Luke. It’ll be the first time I’ve seen him since last night and our awful, wonderful moment in the car. But we’ll be onstage, and that means he’s Romeo and I’m

Juliet. Only slightly better, because Romeo and Juliet are what pulled me into this mess to begin with. I concentrate on breathing as I change into the long, simple white dress and slide on the wings. “How do the wings look?” I try to see over my shoulder, but fail. “This is unreal…beautiful.” Julie’s hands cover her mouth. “You look…perfect.” “Cool.” Dress rehearsals are turning out to be a lot of fun. I step back to look in the mirror, and can’t wait for Luke to see me like this. I feel like an angel, ready to fall in love. As I step up to the stage, I know I’m supposed to be with Shawn. I’ve known it since I was twelve and we sat by the creek and kissed our marshmallow, peanut butter kisses. But with this play I’ve been given a chance at something else. To feel something else. I get to love Romeo as Juliet. I need it, and I crave it. I look forward to it all day. And it’s almost over. My eyes catch with Romeo’s as soon as we’re on stage. I know him well enough to know he’s looking at me the way Romeo should look at Juliet. I smile, feeling more beautiful than I’ve ever felt in my life. And yes, it’s me, not Juliet. No acting needed, not for this. My heart’s pounding, and I let it. There’s no way we’re not pulling this scene off perfectly. Suddenly we’ve found one another. We’ve walked through this scene so many times, but with everyone in costume, and with the lights glowing, it feels different. Our moments of silence and stares are long. Our kisses linger more than necessary and it’s all honest

when I can’t take my eyes off him as my nurse leads me away. The clapping and catcalls from the cast say that the moment looked as good as it felt. I sit in the heat and blackness backstage, as alone as I can be in a group of people. Luke’s onstage, and the darkness that surrounds me brings me comfort, helps me to disappear for a few moments. Only a few more days of being torn apart. Just a few more days. At the end of dress rehearsal after we both die, Luke throws his arms around me and doesn’t let go. We’re still surrounded by our cast mates, the crew and everyone, but he’s holding me like we’re the only ones here. After a moment I give in and relax into him, the way I know he wants me to, hugging him back tightly. “You did amazing. I was right there the whole time, you know?” he whispers. “Me, too.” Way more than I will ever admit. *** I spend the next two nights—our performance nights— doing my best to avoid Luke aside from our presence onstage. With Shawn out of town, and with how mixed up and blurry all the lines between us are, I know it’s the right decision. Doing something with him I can’t take back…the consequences of that are too awful to think about. ***

I’m preparing for the final night of Romeo and Juliet. Shawn’s back in town. He sends me a text to say that he’ll just make it in time for the performance. Knowing he’ll be here makes me more nervous than I’ve ever been. Night after night I let myself be Juliet. I let myself fall desperately, knowing the disastrous end. And every night I do it again with the same force as the first time. And every night I wouldn’t change it, or take it back. It is our last morning-after scene. Juliet is desperate not to let him go, even though they both know he needs to. I hold onto Luke with everything I have. Aside from the scene in the end where I stab myself, this is it. This is the end of Romeo and Juliet. The end of letting myself fall for his golden brown eyes. His hands and lips feel desperate. I wonder if he’ll be as sad for this to end as I am. My line, “O think’st thou we shall ever meet again?” Luke/Romeo, “I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve. For sweet discourses in our time to come.” He crawls back down from the balcony and slowly backs away, his eyes unwavering. The next time we meet onstage will be our last. “O God, I have an ill-divining soul! Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou look’st pale.” And I feel it through my whole body, the tingling that feels like ice as he walks away from me. He spins and jogs off stage. My heart sinks.

Our last scene arrives and breaks me more than it ever has. I feel the end, and I know how it has to end, this weird flirtation thing we’ve had going on. It ends with the last show of Romeo and Juliet. And for the first time I sort of get why Juliet had the courage to do it. The pain of the dagger is a lot less than the pain of losing Romeo. And it hits me hard. I love them both, Shawn and Luke, and I should have never let it happen. I love Shawn—he’s first kisses and promises and all those sweet things I know I need in someone. Luke is friendship and comfort and trust and now something more, something that draws me to him. But my feelings aren’t fair, not to any of us. My tears at Romeo’s death are real, sliding hot down my cheeks and falling on my dress. I take his dying face in my hands, close my eyes, and part of me wishes things were different. Part of me wishes there was no Shawn, and another part of me wishes there was no Luke. A sob comes up my throat, one that has nothing to do with Juliet and everything to do with Ronnie. The audience sits in stunned silence and it is the best compliment I’ve ever received. The lights go off. Luke’s hand pulls on mine, our faces are close in the black behind the curtain, on Juliet’s pyre. My heart hammers in anticipation, and in my need to feel him closer to me. His lips find mine and I kiss him deeply, passionately, without hesitation. The lights come up and we struggle to our feet, hands still clasped together, and run backstage before the curtain reopens. I can’t look at him, but hold his hand tightly in mine, my heart still hammering in a desperate rhythm. When we

walk out for our final bow, I scan for my parents. Shawn’s next to them, as promised. His jaw is clenched. I knew he’d be mad when he had to watch it. How will I fix this? Luke’s hand gives mine a squeeze as we stand together in the center of the cast. The clapping blends in with the lights and my fuzziness and my desperation at knowing I don’t get Luke anymore. And that I have an angry Shawn waiting for me. The lights go off, the curtain closes, and I don’t think, I run. My hand clasps Luke’s. I run offstage into the back hallway and to the small girls’ dressing room. I drag him inside with me and lean my back against the door. What am I doing? “Thanks for believing in me. For telling me I could do this. I’m sad that you won’t be my Romeo anymore.” All true. All okay. Why did I need privacy for this? My heart’s hammering is making it hard to breathe, or maybe it’s from my run, or maybe it’s just from Luke. He opens his mouth to speak, but leans in and kisses me instead. The power of him shoots through my core, pulling us together. We’re alone here. Romeo and Juliet saying a goodbye that doesn’t end in death. A goodbye with me going back to where I’m supposed to be and him moving on to whoever he’ll move on to next. Right now it’s just us. I pull him as close as I can. Our lips move together like we’ll never see one another again, like our life depends on how desperate we are. His hands wrap tight around my back trying to pull me closer, even though there’s really no way for that to be possible. Not while

standing. Footsteps in the hallway signal our time is done. For real. The End. I pull away breathless. “I have to go.” “Ronnie.” He keeps my hand. His eyes see me, through me, know me. “I wasn’t acting.” I’m about to do the unthinkable. Hurting Luke makes my stomach turn, but I have no other choice. “I was.” I open the door and run into the hallway before Shawn has cause to be angrier. I need to find him. The lines between Luke and I are blurred beyond recognition and I need him to straighten them out for me. “Ronnie!” Luke calls out after me. “Ronnie!” More desperate. I can’t look back. If I do it’ll mean that Shawn was right. It’ll mean that I have to face Luke and what he means to me, and maybe what I mean to him as well. I can’t do it, not right now, not to the guy I’ve loved since I knew how to love. Mom, Dad and Shawn are waiting for me as I step from backstage. “Oh, honey.” Mom puts her arms around me. “Why are you crying?” Am I? Am I crying over what I can’t have? Shawn’s brows pull together. He’s confused, and probably doesn’t know how to feel right now. How would I feel if he just gave Romeo’s performance with the same enthusiasm as Luke? With someone who wasn’t me? “You did a great job.” Dad pulls me into a hug next. “I know Shawn wants to take you out, so I’ll let you guys go.”

I smile wide at Shawn. Will he ever know what I chose him over? How important he is to me, for me to give up anyone and everyone for him…even Luke? His hand reaches out and takes mine, tightly. My stomach sinks. “Ready?” His smile is forced. I step in beside him, still in my white dress from the play. My fingers start to ache from his grip. “Softer, please,” I whisper. His hand relaxes. “That was…” Light voice, relaxed voice… “Was it totally weird for you?” “You two were really good. It was beyond weird.” He shakes his head. “You know I love you, right?” I reach my hand across my body and take his arm. Shawn takes a deep breath, but I can tell he’s struggling to stay calm. At least he’s working on it, that’s good. Why am I here with him when I could be inside with Luke? The thought of Luke standing alone in the hallway, calling out after me, burns my eyes with fresh tears, but I suck in a breath, suck them away. Gone. Done. Over. “Mom’s still gone. I thought you could come to my house and celebrate with me?” I squeeze his hand. I’m not sure what he has in mind, but it doesn’t much matter right now. Right now I just want to make sure we’re happy. As we drive to his house in his mother’s car, his smile becomes more genuine. I kiss his neck, his cheek, his lips, anything I can think of to put myself in this moment with him.

He chuckles and makes a show of leaning away so he can drive. My heart splits. Divides. Where’s Luke right now? What’s he thinking? Does he feel as ripped apart as I do? No. No one’s holding the other half of him. I can’t think about how much I might have hurt him when I walked, no, ran away. Did I do the right thing? “You still here?” Shawn teases. “Yeah.” But when I look up we’re parked in his driveway and the car is off. I have no idea when we got here. “Are you hungry? Do you want to go inside and eat? Swim in the backyard?” “Can we walk?” I ask. “Walk.” His voice tells me it’s probably last on his list. “I love this dress, and I’m not ready to take it off.” Which is true. The thought of bringing part of the passion I felt as Juliet between Shawn and I sounds perfect. Maybe keeping the dress on will help. He climbs out, runs around the front of the car and opens my door. His hand reaches in and I take it to stand. “Does that mean,” he leans in close and whispers. “That you might want to take it off later?” My heart begins to pound hard and fast in my chest. This is the decision point, right? Shawn’s my choice. I love him. I want him forever. Our eyes meet, and I’m still so undecided. Why am I still so undecided? About everything? “Maybe.” His lips touch mine softly. Shawn is all sweetness, and what kind of horrible person am I that I’m comparing my kiss with him to my earlier kiss with Luke? It’s like claws are

digging into me, into my chest, into my gut, making me question how I feel for everyone. How I feel for Luke, for Shawn, for Romeo…it’s all such a mess. We walk together, my dress swishing around my ankles and flying out around me. The whiteness of the fabric glows in the faint light. “Park?” he asks. “Love to.” We take a shortcut between four small homes leading to the wide expanse of grass and trees. My smile starts to spread. I feel some of the lightness I felt as Juliet, simply falling. This is what I want with Shawn. “Come on!” I pull his hand and we start running. It feels amazing, his hand in mine, my dress floating around me. It’s like we’re running away from everything trying to keep us from being happy. Away from Luke, from Shawn’s dad, from Shawn’s anger, from my uncertainty. I stop under a huge tree with branches forming a haven of leaves around us. Still breathless from our run, I kiss him. Hard. Deep. I only breathe when I have to. I take the passion from the play and turn it on Shawn. I want to feel like I’ve escaped the world with my true Romeo. “Ronnie, I love you so much.” His hands hold my sides, lay flat across my lower back, bringing our hips together. We’re suddenly on the ground, his weight on me, his hands on me. Our fingers slide together as our tongues meet and he pushes our hands between his legs, making sure I feel him the way he wants me to. Ready for more. “I need you, Ronnie.” “Here?” I push my hands to the ground and scoot out

from underneath him. “No one’s here.” His hand slides up my calf, up the inside of my thigh, stealing my breath. “Let’s go home, okay?” I try to laugh it off, but he pushes forward, his mouth hard on me again. “You have to give me something, Ronnie. Something you didn’t give to him.” He spits out the word. He’s kissing my neck so hard I can’t tell if he’s kissing me or biting me, and fear grips my stomach. Hard. Tight. I need away. I start to sit up, but he pushes me back down. “Stop.” My heart’s splitting, shaking. “Ronnie! Dammit!” “Who are you?” I back up as fast as I can and stand up. My eyes scan from his head to his feet. Who is this guy? He isn’t the one I fell in love with. Not like this. It’s crazy that I didn’t see it the first time he grabbed me. Only…I did see it, sort of. It’s that I never gave it a chance to sink in. I spin and walk out from under the tree. “I knew it. You stupid whore !” His steps are hard on the ground behind me. “You probably slept with him for your stupid play!” I spin around and slap him as hard as I can. My palm burns with the force of it and his expression turns black. I lose all the air from my lungs. It was not the thing to do. Like a flash of lightning his hand grips my wrist, wrenching my arm practically out of the socket. I hear yelling, but I don’t know where or who it’s from. I’m not going to let him hurt me again, not without a fight. My

body is pulled against him, twists and jerks. How is he so strong ? “Don’t touch her!” Luke’s suddenly on top of Shawn and I’m free. My eyes break from their wrestling forms just long enough to see half our cast, most still in costume, staring wide-eyed at the scene. “Stop! Stop!” I shriek. They’re a tangled mess of tall Luke and strong Shawn and…this can’t be happening! Curtis, Benvolio, Mercutio, Paris and the rest of the guys from the cast grab arms, legs, whatever they can get a hold of and rip them apart. Shawn shakes them off, his eyes still hard on me. “How could you …?” he spits out. His head shakes. “When you knew what I had going on?” His arms jerk away from the last two guys holding him. My hands clutch my elbows and all I want is to catch my breath. I just need air. Air my trembling body can’t find. “Come on.” Shawn holds his hand out for me. “Let’s go home.” I don’t have to look at Luke to know he’s looking at me. I can feel it. I shake my head. Not with Shawn. “What?” He steps closer to me and Luke tenses. “I’m not going with you.” My voice is whispery, shaking, not my voice. Julie’s arm comes around me. There are five guys here protecting me from Shawn. Five. He knows he can’t beat that. I know he can’t beat that,

but the nearness of him keeps me weak with fear. For a second I think Shawn’s going to jump at me, but instead he swings, landing a punch squarely on Luke’s jaw. A scream escapes my throat. Shawn turns and walks away. “Stop!” Luke yells at the guys who start after him. “Let him go.” He leans over, holding his jaw, eyes clenched tight. “What an asshole.” Curtis breathes out. I sit. There’s nothing else to do. My legs don’t want to carry me anymore. The dew from the grass soaks my dress, I’m sure it’s ruined after this mess. Julie sits next to me, close enough that our arms touch. Luke sits on the other side. “You’re bleeding.” I reach out and touch the corner of his mouth. “I’m so sorry.” He rubs the back of his hand across his lips. “We all just ended up here after the play. If we hadn’t…” His eyes scan my body. “Are you hurt?” I look down, which is silly. My gorgeous dress is torn up the front, and I finger the raw edges. This is exactly how I feel. “No.” I’m not hurt in a way I can describe. Not now. I bring my hand up to move the hair off my face, and my wrist is sore, bruised probably. “Maybe my wrist.” I hold it for a second to survey the damage. “Kind of his favorite spot, huh?” Luke’s jaw flexes. Julie’s eyes widen. Fortunately the rest of the guys are breathing out their adrenaline. “I guess.” Now I just feel stupid, humiliated, for letting all this happen. “I want my house.”

Luke jumps up. “I’ll take you.” I stand, weak. Everything, every feeling inside me is a confused mess of wounded emotion. I don’t know if it’s love, sorrow, pain, sadness, heartbreak—they all swirl together leaving me dizzy and confused. Shawn’s walked away. I wanted him to walk away. I’m not sure when he became someone I don’t know, and I don’t know completely why or how it happened, but I can’t be a part of it anymore. Luke. His eyes are on me. Expectant. Because really, what normal girl would stay with someone after this? The guilt of how I’ve let myself fall for him hollows me out, leaves me feeling like the person Shawn says I am. I didn’t mean to turn into this awful girl. A lead weight settles in my stomach. I glance around to see that our group has conglomerated around the jungle gym, leaving me and Luke standing mostly alone. Trying to give me space. Us space. Privacy. Something. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I shake my head. “You taking me home.” If I think my guilt factor is huge now, what would happen if I made out with Romeo? Shawn and Luke all in the same night? “You can’t walk home alone, Ronnie. Not after that.” My gut sinks. What will everyone say about what

happened here? “Okay.” Because what choice do I have, really? We walk towards the parking lot, my arms wrap around my middle, holding me together. All I want right now is for someone to suck all these bad

thoughts and feelings out and leave me with whatever the right thing to do is. Probably no way to do that. Maybe I’ll make it my new wish. My one thing for the notebook. DO THE RIGHT THING. But what is the right thing? I climb into the passenger’s side of his car, remaining silent. My knees pull up to my chest and I wrap my arms around them, holding me together. I hope that Shawn doesn’t see Luke drive me home. He doesn’t need to be hurt any worse. There are no words for Luke, not right now. The drive to my house is over in what feels like seconds, and I still have no words. I’m too tired. I push the door open and step out. “Wait, Ronnie.” He stands and stares at me over the car. “I need to talk to you.” “I got nothing left, Luke. Not right now.” My arms hang to my sides in defeat. “But this is it, right? I mean, this is like, chance number four or five that he just blew?” Luke comes around the front of the car. And as half my body is screaming for him to run away, the other half is screaming for him to take me in his arms and never let me go. Kidnap me and run away to the coast. “I started it.” I’m the one that let Shawn believe we’d go further, do more. He can only be expected to take so much. “What?” His jaw drops. “Under the tree, I started it.” Why would Luke want me? I’ve proven myself to be a miserable human being. “Yeah, and he did a hell of a job of finishing it, didn’t he?”

His voice is quiet, but hard, serious. I press my fingers to my forehead and squish my eyes shut. “Everything’s a blurry mess right now.” And like a lunatic, I let my eyes find his. He hits my chest like Shawn hasn’t since we were little—only I’m not little anymore so it hits me even harder. “What would have happened if we didn’t decide to hang there tonight? What if no one was there?” he asks. I’ve just been punched. What am I doing? I open my mouth to speak but, again, have no words. “Ronnie!” His face is desperate. “I’m crazy in love with you! I love you so much that I can’t even imagine myself with anyone else! And you’re giving chances to a guy who will never be the kid you fell in love with! That guy is gone, and the one who took his place deserves no part of you!” I stand in my driveway. My dress is heavy with dirt and my shoulders slump, but my arms still clutch my sides, fold in front of me, holding me together. My heart is split in so many directions I can’t function, can’t think. Tonight is the final slap I needed to let him go, but it’s still all too much to think about. Too much to feel right now. His face softens. “You kissed me. I mean, we kissed. Please tell me you meant it. That’s all I need.” Instead of words, I get tears. I did mean to kiss him and I want to tell him that. But I can’t. To fall into Luke’s arms would be like saying, “Yes, I’m a horrible girl who loved two guys at once. I broke one, and then went after the other. There’s no way I can walk away from Shawn for Luke. Even

if I knew for certain that’s what my heart wanted, it just wouldn’t work. There would be too much between Luke and I, too much guilt and too much heaviness. I watch as the weight of whatever’s in my heart and on my face hits him. It breaks me further. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He starts to turn around two or three times before getting back in his car and driving away. “I did mean to kiss you,” I finally let myself say. Even my quiet whisper feels like a screaming confirmation of what a horrible person I’ve become. Never in my life have I been this alone. Ever. And I want to feel Luke’s arms around me more than anything I can think of, but I can’t trade one for the other. I just can’t.

~ 18 ~ I don’t know how to function today. Last night still seems too crazy to be real. The torn, stained, white dress is in a pile on my floor. As I stand up from my bed, I catch my reflection. My face is even paler than normal. There are dark circles under my eyes. My wrist is purple. It’s like I’m in this horrible place and only half of me knows how I got here. I’m in worse shape than the ruined dress. I lean against the kitchen counter having no idea what brought me here. When I give up, I step into the living room, lie on the couch, and flip through endless channels. Another long-sleeved t-shirt covers my wrist. Everyone’s used to them now. Used to them. Because I’ve been hiding bruises. The sick feeling in my gut won’t go away, won’t let me think; it holds me prisoner in my swimming thoughts. After making Shawn walk home alone, and standing like a moron while Luke poured his heart out to me, there’s just nothing left to feel but a dull ache. My thumb hits the channel button over and over, my brain not even registering what’s on the screen. “Ronnie,” Dad says. “I’m really worried about you.” I jump, not realizing he’s in the room. “Just stress, Dad.” I flick to another channel. “No big deal.” But my heart’s breaking because no matter what I do, or did, or will do, someone’s going to be hurt. Actually, we all

probably hurt right now because of me. I’m already in pieces and I still don’t know what to do for myself, or for Luke, or for Shawn. “Your mom thought about inviting Diane and Shawn to the coast, would that help?” he asks. No. No, that won’t help at all. “Could I crash with Mindy for a couple days?” I ask. A long pause. An eternity while Dad’s eyes take in mine, my face, the way I’m sitting. “If it’s okay with her parents, I don’t see why not.” Instead of saying thank you, I lean over and grab my dad in the kind of hug I haven’t given him in a long time. “Please call if you need anything, okay?” he whispers. “I’m really worried about you, Ronnie.” “I’ll be okay.” But I’m only saying these words to appease him, not because I believe them to be true. *** “Oh, my gosh, you were amazing!” Mindy’s arms hug me tight as she jumps onto her porch to greet me. “Are you sad it’s over?” I burst into tears. What’s over? The play? Shawn? The light in Luke’s eyes when he looked at me? Or maybe it’s the new beginnings that have me screwed simply because I have no idea what any of them are. She grabs my hand and drags me to her room where we sit together on the floor. I tell her how I feel for Luke, even

though I didn’t mean to fall for him, and how I tried to blame it on the play. But it really wasn’t the play. It was all me. I tell her about Shawn and everything he went through and how I’m the worst, most horrible person in the world because I have to split things off with him. And if I don’t I might lose Luke forever, and if I do, I’ll lose Shawn forever. But how can I even think about being with Shawn when he keeps treating me the way he does? That’s insane! And I don’t know him, and we haven’t talked, and I’m not sure I want to or that I have it in me. There’s really no way to be with someone when I don’t want to talk to them and don’t want to be around them, which sort of answers half of my questions. The problem is there are so many questions still floating, how will I know if I’ve answered them all? My thoughts mix with what I tell her and I don’t know if I make sense to her, because I don’t know if I make sense to me. “How does it feel to lose them?” she asks. “Horrible!” Of course. “Comparatively.” I know. I know before she asks because it would feel worse to lose Luke. But is that because I feel like I could actually lose Luke? I don’t know that I could lose Shawn unless I’m the one to do it. Luke driving away proves I can lose him pretty easily. “It’s too muddy.” “It’s ridiculous that you think you had any effect on what an asshole Shawn is, and I think it’s messing with your head. The guilt, I mean. And it’s not like you’ve known one longer than the other.”

What ? “Of course I have! I’ve known Shawn forever!” “Luke’s been here since we were twelve, he knew Shawn before he left but Luke never left. Luke’s been around, been your friend, and spent a lot more time around you than Shawn has.” The thought pushes through my center. “You’re right.” “You thought it could be any other way?” she teases. “I’m always right!” Wow. “It’s just that…Shawn has felt like everything.” How did that happen ? “Because you made him everything.” “I…” But she’s right again. And somehow by never expecting anything from Luke, we ended up closer than anyone. “It’s all starting to hit you again, isn’t it?” Her head rests on my shoulder, and I rest my head on hers in return. “What did I do?” Tears start sliding down my cheeks again. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.” Her voice holds more confidence than I could ever feel. “You should have seen him, Mindy. I crushed him.” “Who?” Both of them. “Luke. He’ll hate me forever, and he should.” “He won’t hate you forever, but he might not take you.” “Wow.” I force out a chuckle. “Some friend you are.” “I’m just sayin’” She shifts, and lifts her head from my shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do.” I feel small, lost, and unsure about everything. “I can’t believe these words are about to come out of my mouth.” She makes a big show of opening her mouth wide several times as if testing her ability to speak. “You need to tell your parents everything you’ve told me. It sounds like Shawn’s getting worse, not better. He’s going to turn into his dad. And even though I think you should totally dump him for Luke—that’s beside the point. No matter what, he needs to be dumped. Shawn needs help, Ronnie. You need help.” “What?” She’s talking about doing stuff that other people need. I don’t need this extra stuff. Help ? I can deal. “I’m serious. After what Shawn did to you? It’s not just the bruising. I feel like he made you second-guess everything. What you did and didn’t do, what you wore, how much sleep you got, who you were friends with. Is there a part of your life he didn’t touch?” “Just the part with Luke.” How ironic is that. “And that part feels like the biggest mess. I mean, he kept me from being with Luke, but he didn’t stop my feelings.” “I’m so sorry you’re dealing with all of this.” Her hand rubs up and down my arm. “Not as sorry as me.” The weight of how sorry I am clutches at every part of me, weighing me down, and right now I don’t even care if it pulls me under. ***

Even my dad resorts to texting over the few days I’m at Mindy’s house, just to check in. He knows something’s up but won’t press me. Mindy and I watch girlie movie after girlie movie, taking breaks only for snacks or a quick run for fast food. I hear nothing from Luke. Nothing from Shawn. And that’s a good thing. This is the break I needed over Thanksgiving. When I walk in the door from Mindy’s house, the smell of fresh bread fills the air. “I’m about to take this to Shawn and his mom. Wanna come?” Mom asks. The thought makes me sick. I can’t face Shawn without telling him about Luke. I can’t face Luke until I’ve talked to Shawn. I don’t think. And within two seconds of being home, I’m back to uncertainty. “I’m just dropping stuff off before I head out,” I say. I start down the hallway hoping not to hear the dreaded question. “Where are you going?” Crap. Think, think, think… “Going to surprise Dad at work.” “Oh.” Her voice is bright. “He’ll love that. He worries too much. He keeps asking about you. Don’t worry, I’ve told him you’re fine.” “Thanks, Mom,” I call back from inside my room. I love my mom but, wow, unobservant almost seems like a pathetic thing to say for how she doesn’t see what’s around her. ***

I walk the two miles to Dad’s office while rolling the conversation with Mindy over and over in my head. The thought of actually telling Dad everything makes me want to throw up. Even that would be less messy than my life, but it’s not really an appealing alternative. The door to his office building is open and I take the elevator to the top floor, the one he and his two partners use. I check my phone for the time. It’s a few minutes before two o’clock. He should be almost exactly between patients. As I step into the waiting room, he steps out to talk to his secretary. Our eyes meet briefly. “Cancel my next,” he whispers. Dad just knows. “But…” Her eyes scan the computer screen frantically. “Rick had a couple of cancellations, he can take it. Thanks.” His eyes never leave mine. Dad stands, smiles and steps back, holding the hallway door open. No words are exchanged. They’re not yet needed. Hopefully I can find the ones that are needed when I get inside. I sort of half shake, half float across the room. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure why I thought this was a good idea. We’re both in his office, but I just stand—unsure of what to do, where to be. “It’s good to see you.” Dad’s arms wrap around me, weakening me, breaking down the walls I’ve so carefully kept up to keep me safe. To keep my secrets safe—from way too many people. “You, too.” I pull in a shaky breath, determined not to cry.

He lets go and tilts his head to see my face. Instead of talking, I sit in the chair across from his desk and he sits next to me. “I’m not in any hurry, Ronnie. Whenever you want to talk, you can.” His voice is low, smooth, kind. I stare at my lap and tell him everything, beginning with the first time Shawn grabbed me. I keep out the panties part, and I keep out the sex and the pressure, but I tell him about how confused my feelings got and how afraid I am that Shawn will be like his dad. I tell him about each incident and watch as my dad’s jaw tightens in anger as he forces himself to take deep breaths. I tell him how Shawn always felt ‘meant to be.’ How I feel like I’m betraying how much I love him, and how much I’m torn between the two. The silence when I finish pounds in my ears. Dad’s large hand rests on my shoulder, and he speaks softly. “This kind of loyal dedication is what someone deserves in a wife that he’s put years of work and trust into, not a young man who hasn’t even started his own life yet, Ronnie. This is the time in your life when you should be able to fly free. If something doesn’t suit you, or work out right, you jump to the next. It’s one of the beautiful things about being young. This way, when you do tie yourself down, you’ll be ready for it.” “What do I do, Dad?” I still can’t raise my gaze from my lap. “I can’t tell you what to do, honey. I want to rip that boy’s head off for what he’s done to you.” Dad’s eyes still rest softly on me, there’s no need for me to look to know that.

“And at the very least, he needs some help and you need some distance.” Distance. What would that be like? Just the thought of not dealing with him everyday gives me the first amount of relaxation I’ve felt since the play. “Agreed.” Maybe some distance will also help clear my thoughts—because mixedup thoughts and mixed-up emotions are exhausting. “Ronnie, I love Luke. I really do. He’s an outstanding young man. But you might want to think about taking some time to just be Ronnie. You and Shawn were really young to tie yourself to one another that way. Why don’t you think about being your own person for a while?” My own person. Just me. Just Ronnie. It seems so… empty. And what would Luke say? If I understand him right, he’s been waiting for me for a long time. Would he wait longer? How long do I need? If I know he’s waiting for me, it wouldn’t be like living on my own, though, as just me. Another thought hits me hard. Luke probably doesn’t want me anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised, not after the heartbreak on his face. “I’ve really, really screwed up, Dad.” My fingertips press at the outsides of my eyes, keeping the tears in. “Oh, no…” He shakes his head and rubs his hand on my shoulder a few times. “This is normal growing up stuff.” He stops. “Well, not entirely normal. But you haven’t screwed anything up. How about I drive you home and I’ll walk over to Shawn’s house with you, okay?” “No.” I shake my head. “I need to do this alone.” “I don’t think I can let you do this alone.”

I broke all of this. I need to fix all of this. “Please let me do this.” Our eyes meet, and as his face falls I know he’ll relent. “I want you to know this is one of those times when it kills me to have to let you go.” And it’s all over his face. It does kill him. “I’m safe, Dad. It’s okay.” But I have no idea if this is safe, or not. It’s so crazy. I’m thinking about Shawn—peanut butter kisses and cherry shaved ice Shawn—and being afraid of him.

~ 19 ~ Walking home from Dad’s office gives me thinking time, but it doesn’t do me any good. My brain can’t focus. I stop in front of Luke’s house. I guess Fate is telling me to do this first. I’m not sure what to say, but I don’t have to worry about talking to Luke, aside from total rejection. I don’t even know what I’m after yet. Just some understanding maybe. I’ve never held back on how I feel about Shawn, so at least I can talk to Luke and tell him I need space from everyone, but that he was right. I fell for him hard. I meant to kiss him. My hand rings the doorbell and I wait, my insides all tightened up with the thought of facing him after letting him just drive away into the darkness. “Hey, Ronnie.” His mom gives me this really weird, thinlipped smile as she opens the door. And when I thought it wasn’t possible to feel worse, I feel worse. “What’s wrong?” “I’m guessing you’re looking for Luke?” Her voice is nice enough, but something’s happened. I’m sure of it. “Is he here?” No. No, he’s not here. I know it right now. “He took his finals this morning, all of them. He had enough credits to graduate. He’s gone.” My heart drops. It takes four tries to swallow the ball in my throat before I can answer her. “Gone?”

“Down to live with his dad.” She sighs. “Who still has issues with maturity and not knowing when to leave the office.” Luke can’t be gone. My heart races in panic. Gone. Gone. “When will he…” “I don’t know, Ronnie.” Her sympathetic look is slowly crushing me from the inside. “He’s…I think he’s just feeling a little lost right now.” That makes two of us. My shoulders fall. I did this. “I guess I’ll call him later.” Her weight shifts and she sighs. “I’d give him some time, hon.” “Right.” She knows. “I’ll give him some time, but will you please at least tell him I stopped by? And that I talked with my dad and told him everything?” “I definitely will.” She gives me a wave before closing the door. I definitely will. Those three words give me so much relief that I know I made the right decision in coming here. And it’s official. I’ve lost Luke. And I’m about to lose Shawn, too. If there’s anything left there to lose. Like a brick wall it hits me, as I walk down Luke’s driveway. Even without the possibility of Luke, Shawn is too much for me right now. He just is. The whole thing is. Once I gave the thought of us being apart a chance, a kind of weight lifted off me. That’s enough for me to know I really do need a break. From everyone. Everything. I need to be able to run my own schedule, do what I want, when I want and not worry so much all the time. Although it doesn’t change how

much I miss Luke, or how the word gone is ripping holes through my chest. But first, I need to deal with Shawn. And because I’m still a horrible person, I cry for Luke on my way to Shawn’s house. The thing is, I can’t even really internalize it yet—the loss of Luke. He won’t be at school. He won’t share chocolate-covered popcorn while we watch movies. We won’t walk together. It’ll all be gone. Luke will be gone. Every thought hollows me out further. The streetlamps come on as I walk to Shawn’s house. So much time has passed. I haven’t been home in hours. I’m starving, thirsty and completely drained. I’m stupid to have come here. Shawn opens the door and his body goes stiff. It’s a whole different kind of rejection. “Hey.” I raise my hand in a wave like an idiot. “Wanna come in?” he asks. I nod. I can do this. I take a deep breath before stepping inside. His house doesn’t feel any different without his father here, or with my new knowledge of his life here. It’s just a house. “Hi Ronnie.” Diane smiles from the kitchen. “Are you staying for dinner?” “Uh…not tonight.” This whole thing feels surreal. And it’s like Shawn knows what’s coming. He’s so stoic. His jaw juts forward in some sort of macho ‘I’m-annoyed-with-you’ thing, but I know better. This is when it hits me. I know him well enough that I know what he’s trying to put off. I know

him. He’s part of my history, and until very recently, I was sure he’d be part of my future. Thinking about splitting with him while walking alone is one thing. Being faced with the boy I’ve loved, and still love, is something else entirely. “Okay.” Her smile is wide as she moves back into the kitchen. Shawn and I step into his room. It’s still darker in here than I’d like. There’s a dent in the wall where he slammed his fist on the night he was drunk. It gives me some resolve, because the longer I stand near him feeling like he might no longer be mine, the harder it’s going to be. “Come to tell me you’re running off with Luke?” His voice is quiet. His face unreadable. The calm is almost worse than the anger. “I talked with his mom. He graduated early and left town.” My body remains rigid. Like maybe if I can remain stiff, this all won’t hurt so much. Shawn’s brows go up almost imperceptibly. “Oh.” I fold my arms in front of me, protection, holding myself together. The bracelet on my wrist is heavy. Too heavy. My chest sinks as I squeeze the clasp. His head shakes. “No, Ronnie. I’m not taking that back.” The bracelet swings free and I watch the small coin dangle on the bottom. Ronnie. Shawn. It’s too much. Too much expectation. Too much pressure. “I need some time, Shawn. Maybe an endless amount. I don’t know. I still love you, but I…” I hold the bracelet in my hand. “You love Luke, too.” It’s the first hint of anger I’ve gotten

from him. “All that matters is what’s between me and you. And what isn’t.” I find his eyes with mine. They’re not the eyes I fell in love with. There’s too much bitterness, frustration and hatred in them right now. It grips at my chest to know that some of it’s because of me. “That’s not all that matters here, Ronnie.” He shakes his head. “I want to know what happened between you and Luke.” His voice comes out low and tense. “Nothing. He told me he liked me and I stood silent and let him leave.” Shawn doesn’t need the particulars; that’s between Luke and I. But a small knot of fear begins to form in my stomach with how intense he looks. His brow pulls together. “But you didn’t come here.” “I was too confused. Too hurt. Too scared. Too frustrated.” I hold the bracelet out to him. “I can’t keep this.” He closes my hand over it again. “This is a present, Ronnie. To you, from me. Look, if you need some space for a while I guess I get it, but I’m not taking that back.” “I can’t.” And I wish I could let him into my brain so he could see how messed up this all is. “I just can’t. Not right now.” “So why the hell did I tell you how my life has gone to crap if you were just going to add to the pile!” he yells. I jump back. Time to go. And how did I not make sure he didn’t block my path to the door? “I can’t talk to you when you’re mad.” I start to move around him, but he steps between me and the door. My body seizes up. I need out. And I don’t care about volume. Not now. “Let me out,

Shawn!” “Why should I? Huh? So you can trample on me again? I don’t think so! You don’t even fucking care!” He pushes me back with both hands. “I do!” I scream. “I just can’t be afraid if you’re having a good day or not! I can’t be afraid to wear a certain kind of shoes! Or to be part of a play! Or to have friends who are boys!” My body’s shaking with tears and fear and frustration and everything that’s been boiling inside of me. “But that doesn’t really work, does it? Having friends that are boys? Because now you’re leaving me for him !” He points at me and steps forward again, pushing me further away from the door. I step back. “NO!” I’m desperate. The tears are heavy on the edges of my eyes. “Don’t you get it? I don’t get him either! It doesn’t matter! Not to me. Not between us! That’s not what this is about!” I take enough of a breath to stop yelling. “I need a break.” I need time. I need to be me. If I even know who I am anymore. “I told you everything. Everything.” His teeth are clenched and he steps closer, his breath coming hard and fast. “Why did you wait until you knew it would crush me to step on me like this?” “That’s not fair! I hid bruises! I didn’t talk to Mindy ! I lied to my parents over and over!” That’s it. I need out. I start again to step around him, but he grabs my arm. I pull towards the door. “Let me go! Let me go !” I don’t care who hears right now. I need help. My free hand pushes against

him. “Shut up!” His free arm backhands the side of my face so hard I fall to the floor. The ache from my face spreads and I blink, begging the black spots to disappear. Terror seizes my stomach, my chest, but I don’t have the strength to get up. I don’t know which way is up. What will happen if I pass out? What would he do to me? The door flies open. Dad has Shawn against the wall. His forearm presses against Shawn’s chest. I watch in a blur, still unsure of what’s happening. The room is spinning and I can’t make the blackness go away. “Ronnie, go home, now !” Dad’s voice is more forceful than I’ve ever heard it. I use Shawn’s bed to pull myself off the floor. The room jerks and tilts as I make my way to the door. Dad’s a good six inches taller than Shawn and has him pinned. Shawn’s eyes are on me and he’s breathing hard through clenched teeth. “Go, Ronnie.” Dad’s head doesn’t turn and he doesn’t move from where he has Shawn pinned. I stumble up the hallway, still dazed with blurry vision. The carpet feels like pillowy mush, and I’m not sure where to put my feet. My heart’s slowing, but it’s hard in my ears. My legs are shaking, quivering, like they belong to someone else. Diane’s standing near the front door with her hand over her mouth chanting softly, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” I step past her into the darkness of the evening. Mom’s jogging up the street and takes me in her arms as soon as

she reaches me. Nothing’s over. Nothing’s resolved. Everything’s just a mess. And I’ve made it that way. “Oh, honey,” she whispers as she holds my shaking body on the sidewalk. “Dad, he’s…” In Shawn’s room. Holding Shawn. Against the wall. Alien. Foreign. “Your dad’s fine. Let’s get home.” I walk with Mom’s arm around me, heart breaking, like pieces of me are being scattered along the sidewalk as we go. Dad has a broken Shawn against a wall in his house. Diane’s chanting a rhythmic apology she may not know how to stop. I’m in disbelief that one frustrated grab of my wrist has led to this disaster. As we step into the light of our entryway, Mom turns toward me and gasps. She holds her hands to her mouth. Just like Diane had a few moments ago. “Let’s get you some ice.” The first tear drops down her cheek. “You’re bleeding, sweetie.” Right. He had on his stupid watch. I stumble into our living room and sit. My head’s throbbing. Is Dad okay? Is Shawn okay? Mom murmurs into the phone in the kitchen. “I think we should take you in.” Mom hands me a bag of ice cream. “Ice cream?” I hold it in one hand, but I’m afraid to lift my head from the back of the couch. It feels like my skull is breaking, splitting apart, almost as broken as my heart. “Your face is swelling fast, honey. You need cold, but I was worried the ice would hurt.” Mom blinks a few times

and more tears come down her cheeks. It must be bad, but I’m not thinking clearly. I let my eyes close. The cold feels good but she’s right, my temple and all around my eye is so sensitive I can barely rest the bag against my face. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” She pats my knee with her hand and disappears. I slide down further in the couch, but every movement sends throbs of pain through the side of my head making me dizzy and nauseated. Mom sits in front of me with a flashlight. “Where’s Dad?” She turns on the flashlight and starts shining it in my eyes. “He’s there until the cops arrive.” My heart sprints again. “Cops? Who called the cops?” “Diane.” Mom lets out a breath as the flashlight falls to her lap. “She called them on her home phone and dialed us from her cell at the same time.” “Oh.” My chest feels scratched, hollowed, emptied. All of this is so real. It was just a couple of frustrated evenings. That’s it. And now we’re talking cops, and my dad. My peaceful, mellow dad with his arm against Shawn, holding him to the wall. And me with a swelling face—a gift from the boy I loved since our first kiss in the woods. I miss Luke. He’s exactly what I need right now. Sensitive Luke with a bit of laughter on the edge of everything he says. But I screwed that up too. What’s left? A Ronnie who’s busted herself into pieces and let other people do

the same.

~ 20 ~ They actually do a CT scan at the hospital because my eyes are still dilating weird. Because of Shawn. I’ve stepped into someone else’s life. It’s really the only explanation for my day. For the past month, or months. This isn’t me. Any moment I’ll wake up, realizing that this is all a big nightmare. Mom’s sharing my hospital bed; her arm is around me when a female police officer comes into my room wearing the smile of a pediatric nurse. Her blonde hair is neatly pulled back into a ponytail, and even with her wide smile, her squared shoulders and straight spine hold authority. “Rhonda Bird?” She sits. “Yes,” Mom answers. “I’m Ronnie.” I hold the ice against the side of my face. “Where’s my dad?” “We took Shawn into custody just after you and your mom left. Your dad’s outside talking to another officer. He’ll be back in a few minutes.” And now this woman, this foreign person, is a guest in my hospital room. I’m still reeling that this is actually happening. No dream. She’s the one who’s about to ask me things I don’t want to talk about. Don’t want them to know. Don’t want Mom to know. I guess that’s silly. I talked with Dad. I’m sure Dad told Mom. But even with Dad I held

things back. Do I hold the same things back now? Or do I tell her everything? She answers the question. “I need you to tell me everything, Ronnie.” Her bright blue eyes remind me of Mindy. Mindy. I know what she’d tell me to do. She’d tell me to say everything. So would Luke. “Do we have to do it now?” I ask. “It helps if I get your story right when the incident happened. Memories tend to gloss over things later on, especially in cases like this.” She’s still smiling, but there’s firmness in her voice. “You’re not in trouble here, Ronnie. We just want a clear picture of what happened.” My eyes flit to Mom. I’m not sure if I can get it all out with her here. The officer’s heart won’t break when I talk about what happened. Mom’s will. Mom’s arm tightens around me. “I’ll go. Your dad and I will be right outside, and I’ll see if we can go home soon.” I shift. The room spins. My head throbs. Mom stands up, heartbreak all over her face. Again, something I caused. She steps outside, closing the door slowly behind her. “Let’s get through this, okay? And then it sounds like you’ll be able to head home.” Back to the pediatric nurse smile. I pull the bag of ice from my face and her brows go up. “Let’s get pictures,” she says. “I also want you to take pictures tomorrow because you’ll look worse then.” Pictures, police, this is all so…dramatic. “What will

happen to Shawn?” “He’ll get the help he needs, okay?” She pulls out a small camera and takes several pictures of my face, while I try to move as little as possible. “Are those from him, too?” She points to my wrist. I’d forgotten. My head nods, pain shoots through my face, down my neck. The room spins again. Her camera flashes a few more times and then she sits. “Can you tell me what happened tonight?” “It would be easier if I started at the beginning,” I say. “At the beginning?” She makes a quick note. “Yeah.” I close my eyes and, as I talk, I start to re-live all the things I shouldn’t have lived in the first place. I tell her even the stupid stuff, like the sneaking out, and the frustration, and the shoes. I’m rubbing my wrist when I talk about the first time he grabbed me. How shocked I was. She asks about Luke and how much he knew. He’d only kept quiet because he used to love me and I begged him. Tears start down my cheeks. They burn like fire on my left side where the ice has been keeping me numb. She makes an occasional note, but her recorder is running. There’s no taking it back now. I’m starting to understand the difference between embarrassment and humiliation. Embarrassment is toilet paper stuck to your shoe, or your zipper sliding down. Humiliation is feeling stupid, knowing things should have been different, knowing I had the power to make things different instead of landing us all in this surreal situation. No, not surreal. Again, alien, foreign. My dad’s form in my girly room is nothing

compared to the alien-ness of this. “Wow, Ronnie.” She lets out a breath when I finish the details of this night. “You’re a very brave girl.” Her comment brings another wave of tears. If I was a brave girl, I’d have walked away from Shawn when he grabbed my wrist that first time. So many decisions each and every day were based on Shawn. What he wanted to do, what he wanted me to do, what he liked, what would make him happy. Where was I in all of that? Did I even have a place? Did he love me, or own me, or both? “Do you want your parents to come in now?” I don’t answer. There are no more words left in me. “If you think of anything else you let me know, okay?” She sets a card on the table. “I’ll give one to your mom, too.” I carefully press the melting ice to my face and wince as the plastic of the bag touches my skin. After six hours in the ER I’m so sick of sympathetic faces I could scream. They have decided I’m allowed to sleep, and Mom has a list of things to look for. I have a concussion. I’m dizzy. I’m warned I may be dizzy for days. My thoughts are thick, wooden, shallow and not making sense. Mom is crying and sympathetic. I know Dad well enough to know he’s using every shrink trick he learned to not be angry. I don’t think it works well. His jaw keeps flexing. I’ve broken their hearts, too. I’m on quite a wave of destruction. I float in a haze, not quite believing it’s all happening. Part of me thinks I’ll wake up in the morning, take a day off of school, and Luke will come and share movies and popcorn

with me. All will be well. But that’s not at all how it will go. Shawn’s in jail for hitting me. Shawn’s dad is in jail for hitting his mom. Luke’s gone to live with the dad who left his family behind. It’s like I’m suddenly in a movie on the Hallmark channel. For the first time all night, I smile. Something touches my hand, and my eyes float up to see a nurse placing papers in my grasp. Is she talking? I let my eyes float down—it’s a packet for battered women. Battered. What am I supposed to do with this? That’s not me. Shawn’s different. He’s not like those guys. I’m definitely not like the girls who let someone walk all over them like that. No way. Shawn and I are different, special. Or, we were. Were. Grief for the loss of him, of what he had, grabs its claws into my chest and I drop the folder, scattering the papers across the floor. My body breaks into sobs, even though the pain cuts deep. Each shake brings another wave of dizziness. Dad sits and rests his hands on my calf. Mom tries to hug me, but I don’t want it. I want to fold in my arms and legs, fold myself in until I’m a tidy, crisp white envelope. Perfect. Clean. Untouched. No more Shawn. No more trying to kiss away cherry shaved ice, or lying together in the backyard, his hand running up and down my back. Why couldn’t it be enough? Why wasn’t that enough for him? Why wasn’t I enough? And the boy I was enough for, I let walk away. My knees press into my chest as I lie on my

side, clutching myself together underneath the worn, heated hospital blanket. My feet shake, my legs shake, my hands are like tissue paper. Each shake sends another wave of pain from the side of my head, but there’s no stopping it. There’s no stopping me from falling to pieces. A blurry Dad jumps up and leaves the room. A few moments later a nurse comes in and stands next to the IV I’ve been hooked up to since arriving. The shaking fades. My sobs have shaken all the parts loose they can for tonight. My body’s too heavy for any more thinking or feeling. Sleep is starting to take over and I can do nothing about it.

~ 21 ~ Mindy’s in my room five minutes after the final bell at school has rung. “This is so crazy, Ronnie,” she says. “I know.” I’m still dizzy. Reclining on a sea of pillows is the only thing I seem to be able to do. “He’s really in jail?” She sits on the foot of my bed, slowly. Mom’s given her my dizzy warning. “Yep.” “For how long?” she asks. “No idea.” As awful as it is, I hope he’s there for a long time. Maybe if I don’t have to face him it’ll all just fade away, not be real. “Is it just me, or does this all feel like a Hallmark movie?” I giggle, just like that. “Definitely a Hallmark movie.” I love that we’re close enough to have the same thoughts. “So, now what?” she asks. “Well, my grades are good enough that I only have finals in two classes. I’ll do them later this week, just before Christmas break.” Hopefully my brain has retained some of what I learned. “I know I said this already, but this is crazy. I mean, I don’t even know what to write in the book.” “I think, ‘Ronnie royally screwed up, landing one boy in jail and chasing the other off to live with his mostly-absent

father’ should do it.” “I can’t believe Luke just left.” She pulls her knees up and uses them as a chin rest. Fingers dig through my chest, scraping at the raw edges left by my mess. “I believe it. Any normal, rational girl would have jumped into his arms, and I wanted to. Really, really wanted to, but I didn’t.” “Why not?” “No reason, and also a million reasons at the same time.” There’s just no words. “Are you going to write him?” she asks. “I get the distinct impression from his mom that I might want to give it some time.” Which sucks. And hurts. “I’d still write him.” “When my brain starts working right, I will.” But I’m not going to write him until I think I might be able to handle another rejection. “Paul and I are back together.” A sly smile pulls at the edges of her mouth. “Really?” I’m relieved to not be talking about me anymore. “I told him to think about what I said for a few days, about space, and he did, and he agrees. It’s really more of a trust issue than anything when you need each other every second.” She’s scraping out her fingernails. “So…” Is that it? “So, we’re kind of starting over. A date here and there, or whatever.” She shrugs. “And that’ll work?”

“I don’t know, but I like him, so I hope it does. If it doesn’t…I mean, that sucks, but it is what it is. I don’t want more. Not now.” And I can see it on her face, it would suck, but she’ll do it. Split it off for her independence. I’m amazed she can be so relaxed about it. How isn’t he everything? *** “Dad.” I stop with my fork poised over my plate, every piece of me tenses in repulsion over the idea. “I do not need to go to some group thing with a bunch of abused women!” He slumps, and lets out a sigh as his eyes catch mine across the table. “Ronnie. You may not think you belong there, and that’s fine. But this is not something we’re negotiating.” I roll my eyes. “This all seems way overboard.” “Sorry. Non-negotiable.” He takes another bite of food. How can he be eating right now? I lean back in my chair, dinner forgotten. I’ll have to talk to Mom tomorrow. “I see that look.” He points at me. “Your mom and I have talked. It’s done.” I wonder if he’ll realize that all he’s doing is making new ways to torture me when I’ve done a pretty stellar job all on my own. ***

Ben comes home for Christmas. My situation with Shawn isn’t discussed, but I know Mom and Dad have talked to him about it, because he never asks about the huge bruise covering the side of my face. Right now, I just hope it’s almost gone before I have to go back to school. *** Three days before school is my first group session. I use half a bottle of concealer to cover my bruise, and then I take Dad’s car because it’s nicer, drinks more gas, and has a better stereo. If they’re going to make me go, I’m going to enjoy at least part of it. I enjoy the loud music, and I enjoy using more of their money for fuel than necessary. I step into the community building. I hate that I don’t know where I’m going, and can’t walk right to my class. I walk slowly so I can see as much as possible without stopping. The sign is large and I barely need to pause.

Women’s group. Room 114. At least it doesn’t say—Stupid Pathetic Pushover Women, meet here. I’m mad I have to be here, and wonder how Dad would know if I didn’t go…I almost stop in the hallway. Crap. I can’t do it. He’d probably just know, anyway. Room 114 is easy enough to find. Do I just walk in? It’s not like I could bring a friend, or something. Even though Mindy probably would come with me. No need for two of us to have to go through this humiliation.

I’m the third one in the room. There’s a woman, probably in her thirties, talking with a girl who I’d guess is just a little older than me. I didn’t expect to see people my age in here. They both smile as I step in. I’m not sure if I smile back or not. Again, this doesn’t feel like it could be real. The seats are in a big circle, of course, no corners for Ronnie. Not today. My heart’s beating way harder than I want it to, and my bag slips in my hands a few times as I scan the circle and try to find a seat where no one will notice me. A stupid thing to try and accomplish in a circle, especially because I don’t want to be the girl just standing alone in the middle of the room. “Your hair is amazing,” the older woman says. “Thanks.” I sit and pull my phone out of my pocket so I can be busy while I wait for this thing to start. Tension from being here, and not wanting to be here, tingles in my chest. I lean forward, letting my curly hair fall down around me, knowing my makeup probably doesn’t do as good of a job as I want it to in covering the bruise on my face. How cliché for me to step into this kind of class while still bruised up. I wish I could put a sign across my chest that says: This

bruise was all a ridiculous misunderstanding. Really, my dad’s making me come, or I wouldn’t be here because I don’t have to be. I scroll through my texts. There are a lot from Shawn. The first one I look at was the one from after Thanksgiving where he apologized for not remembering the night before.

I hit erase. I keep reading. How didn’t I see that all he was ever trying to do was make me feel bad? SHAWN: HOPE YOU’RE ENJOYING PLAY PRACTICE. WISH I DIDN’T HAVE TO WORK, BUT U KNOW… SHAWN: WISH WE COULD SPEND MORE TIME. I’M REALLY TRYING, I’VE CUT BACK MY HOURS, EVEN THOUGH I NEED TO SAVE SO WE CAN AFFORD TO HAVE FUN, BUT UR SO BUSY. SHAWN: WHERE R U? PRACTICE FINISHED TEN MIN AGO? SHAWN: I KNOW THIS IS UR THING. AND I GUESS EVEN THOUGH WE DON’T ALL GET TO DO EXTRA STUFF LIKE U DO, THAT U SHOULD GO AND HAVE FUN. I hit erase over and over and over. LUKE: DRESS REHEARSAL WAS AMZNG. U R AMZNG. I’M SO PROUD OF U. U NAILED IT RONNIE. UR HARD WORK PAID OFF. My eyes close. Luke. I miss him, like this comfortable everyday part of me that just isn’t here anymore. But more than that; more than just comfortable. Like I learned I loved him too late, and was too stupid about it when I did figure out I loved him. “It looks like we’re ready to start.” A grey-haired woman in a too-large pair of navy slacks is standing in front of her chair. “This class is once a week for the next eight weeks, and I hope we all get a chance to get to know one another.” My eyes float around the room. No one looks weird, or crazy, or like they should be in jail. Not that you have to look

a certain way to be in jail or anything. I don’t know. It’s just not what I expected. They’re all so normal. A few more women are sitting next to people they’re chatting with, friends I guess. I wonder, do they just keep coming, even though they’ve done the course before? Do they come back again and again? I’m not sure. We go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Easy enough. No one has to stand up and say, I’m Ronnie. My boyfriend hit me a few times. None of that. “We’re just getting warmed up here.” She smiles. I’m mad at myself for letting everyone’s names wash through me without paying more attention. At least when I’m forced to come again next week I would have been able to use a few names—not that I’d want to talk to anybody. “Close your eyes. I want you to think of someone you know who makes you feel safe.” My phone is still clutched in my left hand. I force myself to slide it back in my pocket. It also gives me some time to look around and see if people are actually closing their eyes. They are. Just before I relax enough to close mine, I see a girl across the circle watching me. We smile. She closes her eyes first and then I let mine follow. “Okay, I want you to find your safe place. Somewhere you love. Someone you trust. Anything.” I see Dad first, then I see Ben. Funny. Guess I do trust my brother, even though he generally irritates the crap out of me. “Somewhere you always love to be. Or someone you

love to be with. Someone who is good for you.” My brain fills in the rest. Someone who knew my secret before I understood it. Luke. He’s it. He’s there. Juliet loved Romeo. But Ronnie loves Luke. How long have I not been in love with Shawn? I’ve loved Shawn, but was it really Shawn? Or just the idea of him? The kid I met at the beach when our parents got together, and the guy who was part comfort because I’d known him so long, and part mystery because we didn’t live near one another for years. More importantly, how long have I loved Luke, really? I can’t think of a time when I didn’t love Luke in some way or another. “If your person is a man, and is not your brother, cousin, father, or granddad, find something else.” She chuckles. A few women chuckle along with her. Okay. No Luke. I bring myself to the beach. That’s easy. The small house we rent when Mom and Dad can afford it. The problem is that as soon as I’m in that house and on the beach, Luke’s there too. Or, Shawn is. We’re asked to open our eyes. Two women share stories. They’ve both come to the course before. One talks about how her boyfriend was drinking and tried to take things too far, but she just stood up and walked away. Women around the circle gasp. I almost open my mouth to tell her that’s nothing. Shawn did worse to me the night he

ripped my underwear off. Just as I’m about to speak—I don’t. Whoa, another wave of something big and unfamiliar blows through me. I have a story. Worse than hers. My eyes scan the room again. I belong here. I can’t believe I belong here. Now there’s not enough air in the room, but I force my lungs outward enough to not panic. Passing out on my first day here would be a bit over the top. When class is over I can’t stand up and leave soon enough. I don’t want to be part of this group, part of these people. I just want to be Ronnie Bird. High school student. Sometimes high school actress. Daughter of good parents. Sister of Ben. Friend to Mindy. Simple. Me. Instead, I’m Ronnie—the girl who let a boy hit her because she was stupid enough to love him. I don’t have words when I get home. What do I think? I have no idea. It’s just another experience that sort of puts me into shock. “How was it?” Dad asks quietly as I step inside the house. I glance behind him to see Mom and Ben watching a movie on the couch. My feet force me to stop, but there’s really no words in my head right now. Not for Dad. Not for anyone. We stand still, just watching one another for a moment. Then I walk to my room and close the door. How am I supposed to explain how hollowed out, shocked and humiliated I am to my father ?

I turn on my computer, such an ordinary thing to do. But I don’t feel ordinary. Not anymore. Did the group help? Make it worse? I don’t want to be one of those women, but the reality of it all is that I am. I am one of those women. Why is it that I can sit there and listen to their stories and know exactly what they should have done, but had no idea what to do in my own story? My story that’s my LIFE. If it’s so important, why didn’t I know what to do? Even though the thought is terrifying, and all I can see of him is how I broke him in my driveway, I decide to send Luke an email.

Luke— It sucks that I’m afraid to write you. Not your fault. All mine. You were right. I wasn’t acting. I love you. It kills me to think about how much I love you, how many ways I love you. I’ve loved you as a friend since you’ve been my friend, and I wasn’t there for you, not when it mattered. Even this year, on Thanksgiving, I should have really heard what you said about your dad. Instead, all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to talk about Shawn. I wanted so much more from you and didn’t see it. When I think about that day lying with you on the floor, I wish I could change it. I wish I could have had your arms wrapped around me, and mine around you. I wish that the first time we kissed as Romeo and Juliet I would have told you that I didn’t feel like Juliet in that moment. I felt like

Ronnie. I did that whole play as Ronnie, the girl in love with Luke. And I guess, just like them, we don’t get the happy ending we deserve. I guess that means I’m not your happy ending, and it hurts. It hurts more than losing Shawn. Way more. I loved you both and it wasn’t fair to any of us. Shawn hit me hard when I tried to break up with him. I didn’t go to his house the night you dropped me off. The night you told me you loved me, so many parts of me wanted to run with you and never look back, but I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself for that either. I spoke to your mom, and I swear my heart dropped when she said you were gone. I didn’t go see Shawn until after. He put me in the hospital, Luke. Concussion. I’m okay. He’s in jail. I missed you over Christmas. Mom made her chocolate popcorn, and it just wasn’t the same without you here. I know I’m just unspeakably selfish. There are a million better ways I could have handled everything. So, for whatever it’s worth, I love you. I hope you and your dad come to a good understanding. I hope your first semester of college is as amazing as it should be. I can’t believe we won’t share our senior year. But I guess that’s the point, right? That I screwed up so badly you don’t want your senior year here? I’m trying to figure out who I am without Shawn, and who I am without you. And I’m still the same girl, but hopefully I’m a little smarter than the girl who got into this mess. And

it is a mess. Take care of yourself, Luke. You are special and amazing. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it until it was too late. I love you. Ronnie It’s five torturous hours before I get an answer—almost midnight. The whole time I’m angry at myself for not just calling, but I’m too afraid of what he’d sound like. Heartbroken. Indifferent. Angry. I can’t handle it. I wonder if everything would be easier if I knew Luke was three hours away, missing and loving me the way I am him.

Ronnie— I’m so sorry you got hurt. It’s like I should have been there or something. I’m an idiot for not telling someone about Shawn right away, I just couldn’t stand the thought of you being angry at me. I wanna kill him. Let me know when you’re ready to talk again and hopefully I will be, too. Even though I miss you, I need a little more space. I’m glad you have a chance to figure things out while you’re on your own. I can’t imagine not having you in my life in some way or another. I miss you in a way that I shouldn’t. It’s probably not good for either of us right now. It’s killing me to stay away. Guess that doesn’t really make sense when I just said I needed space, huh? But you know what it’s like to be filled with confusion to overflowing. You chose him over me—it just sucked, and still hurts.

I’m taking eighteen credits and working almost a full workweek. I know I’m sort of running myself into the ground, but it’s helping. I feel better, slowly. I’m glad you’re getting back on track. I guess I am, too. It’s like I still don’t know how to take a deep breath. I hope you get what you need in order to feel like yourself again. Let me know when you do. Luke Luke’s letter is a rejection. Let him know when I’m ready to talk and hopefully he will be, too? How am I supposed to take that? Tears make thick, silent trails down my cheeks. Of course he needs space. Everyone should want space from me. I obviously ruin everything I touch. I roll out of bed, no way I’m sleeping right now. My first day back at school is tomorrow, and I’m sure rumors are flying. Dad suggested I come up with a simple explanation that would satisfy curiosity. There is no simple explanation. The house is dark and quiet as I step through the living room. Hushed voices carry from the kitchen. “I should know what to do,” Dad whispers. “Maybe she just needs time,” Mom replies. I take two more steps and see a faint light. I stop. “How did I not see it?” Mom sniffs. “I mean, this is my job. I knew something was up. I just…I didn’t know.” And isn’t this even more confirmation that I’ve hurt

everyone around me? My silence over the past few days affected them more than I thought. I turn quietly around and go back to my room. There will be no sleeping tonight.

~ 22 ~ “Thanks for picking me up.” I flop down in Mindy’s car. Just a few weeks ago, I was still walking with Luke and Shawn. “Of course.” She smirks. “I shouldn’t have to endure the first day back at school alone.” “Where’s Paul?” I ask. “Taking his own car.” She shrugs. “I don’t want to be with him every second, you know? I need my own stuff.” “Right.” Only all I’ve ever done is find ways to be close to Shawn. So I really don’t understand. “I can barely see your bruise through your makeup, and I’m totally looking for it.” She leans forward. “Is that supposed to be encouraging?” I ask, checking my reflection, again, and still wishing I never had to go back to school. “Yep.” She grins and sits up taller, looking smug. I let out a breath. “Thanks.” My eyes follow the familiar houses along the familiar route to school. But it all feels surreal, unfamiliar. I’m different. Life is different. Like I’m not really Ronnie, I’m the broken up shell of whatever’s left of Ronnie. “Don’t worry.” Mindy’s eyes try to catch mine. “It won’t be that bad.” “Right.” She’s silent. She has no idea.

*** We’re sitting in first period artand I’m afraid to look at anyone, as if they’ll know by my eyes everything that happened. “Hey, Ronnie.” Alan calls from the back. “I heard Shawn’s in jail because of you.” My gut sinks. That’s pretty much as bad as it gets. “No, asshole.” Mindy swivels in her seat. “They got in a fight. Shawn’s in jail because he’s a big prick and Ronnie isn’t.” She sticks out her tongue. Maybe hoping some amount of immaturity will diffuse the tension. It works. I grab her in a sideways hug, not looking back, and kiss her on the cheek. “Your dad said I should have something to say,” she whispers. “Close to the truth but not too close, you know?” I nod. That was good of Dad to talk to Mindy. I’ll have to remember to say something to him. But first, I just need to get through my day. *** When I walk in from school, Dad’s on the couch in front of the TV. This is new. He’s supposed to be at work. “What’s up?” I ask. “Your mom is almost done with her current project, so she’ll be late.” His eyes only meet mine briefly.

“Not with Mom, Dad. With you.” I drop my pack and sit next to him. “Just needed a day. We all do sometimes.” His eyes slowly float to me. I hate seeing the sadness there. “Please stop this.” Dad being home like a bum in front of the TV is somehow about me, I just know it, and it’s a reminder that I messed up. “What?” “I heard you talking to Mom the other night.” That should be enough to prompt some sort of explanation. He looks down. “I should have seen, Ronnie. Been more forceful. And there’s no way I should have let you go to Shawn’s house by yourself.” “You were trying to give me the space I needed, Dad. Nothing wrong with that.” It’s so weird being in the position of trying to make him feel better. “There is when it ends in something like this.” His wide fingers touch the outside of my eye. “Dad, I didn’t think it would end like this.” Maybe I should have seen it coming, but it really was movie-like dramatic— not real-life dramatic. “If you hate your group…” he breathes out. “I mean, I know it would be good for you, but if you hate it and want to push it off, you can. But you have to know I’ll be overprotective of you in the meantime.” “Dad, I’d rather just go than have you feel all weird about it. I don’t want home to be uncomfortable.” I pull my legs onto the couch and stare at my knees as I wrap my arms around my calves.

“I know you don’t want to do it, Ronnie. But the class will help you way more than seeing someone like me.” Dad’s eyes are on me, but it’s too much. Too intense right now. “I know.” I think again about that lady’s story, and how I almost stood up and told mine because hers seemed so tame. It’s so weird that this part of my life is slowly becoming real—something that actually happened. *** I shake up the last of the caramel popcorn before bringing it out to watch TV with Mom, Dad and Mindy. One week of school down. Group therapy tomorrow. Life is not at all how I expected it to be last semester, but I’m living it, and we’re okay. “What is this?” I wrinkle my nose at the TV. “Some new courtroom thing.” Mindy rolls her eyes. “My parents love it, too, but your house comes with popcorn.” “Right.” I sit next to her and she and I dig in like we always do; like if it takes us longer than five minutes to eat the bowl, the rest of the popcorn may disappear. But as I watch, a thought occurs to me. “What happens if Shawn wants a trial?” My eyes find Dad’s. He swallows once (never a good sign) and exchanges a brief glance with Mom. “Then you’ll be asked to testify.” “Right.” My body goes numb. Bad, icky, tingly numb. “This all just sort of sucks, doesn’t it?” I’m so glad Mindy’s here right now.

“It pretty much does.” Her blonde head rests on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll help ya.” Right. I have Mom, Dad, Mindy, and even Ben if I ever asked him for something. The thought of sitting in the witness chair and talking about what happened between Shawn and me pretty much goes on a list of things I never, ever want to put in my notebook. Funny that most of the things on my never-ever list are things I didn’t even know should be there until they happened. *** There’s a soft knock on my door. “Ronnie?” Mom whispers. “Yep.” I’m on my back staring at the ceiling, hoping I never have to see Shawn again. “I just need a sec.” She steps just inside my room. “About the trial.” “Well, now it sounds inevitable.” I scoot to sitting and lean against the wall, even though I don’t feel like leaning. “No, no.” She shakes her head. “We’ve spoken with the DA and with the defense as well. It looks like he’s just going to plead out. Dianefeels terrible about the whole thing and is pushing him to finish the rest of his senior year in detention in Sacramento. She’s moving to be close to her sister.” Mom’s face now looks puzzled. “Did I…I mean, did you feel pressure to be with Shawn because of me?” she asks. Great. So both my parents feel guilty. “No. Because of me.” I slide back down. Maybe now she’ll leave me alone.

“Okay.” She takes one step back and pauses before leaving my room. As if the sympathetic stares from school weren’t enough. Life will be so much better when everyone’s forgotten about all of this. Except for me. I won’t forget. I can’t imagine that. *** After a few weeks at school the questions are gone; the looks are starting to fade. I spend more time on my homework than I ever have. I do theater again. Arsenic and Old Lace this time around. I’m playing one of the old ladies. I have no desire to play someone in love. And this time, when I step into rehearsal, I know people. I get smiles and congratulations on my role. I’ve gone back to group therapy each and every week— there’s only two left. Being the silent girl suits me. Last week I was tempted to say something when a girl younger than me started talking about how she shouldn’t be there, but I kept my mouth shut. Dad has started to ask me if I’m ready to see Shawn. He thinks it’s important. I do not. I know it’s a subject that won’t be dropped. I think about Luke every day. It’s better, but it still hurts. I’m terrified to write him or call him, which sucks on a million different levels. It sucks on the friendship level, and it sucks because I love him in a way I didn’t recognize until I’d made a mess of everything.

Life simply continues. I just want so much more. Something is missing and I don’t know how to fill the hole.

~ 23 ~ I fiddle with my phone like I always do at the beginning of group. Luke and I have started sending each other texts—it started with mine. Ronnie: SAW A 6 YEAR OLD WITH THE SAME T-SHRT AS YOU—IT WAS A GIRL WHO LOVES POWDERPUFF GIRLS. He responded a few hours later. Luke: I WILL NOT BE SWAYED FROM MY LOVE OF LITTLE KID T-SHRTS. This is what all our texts are like—just simple, funny observations—nothing serious. I smile when there’s a new one from him. Luke: CAFEPRESS TEES. I’M IN LOVE. We only text every couple days, but we’re talking, and right now that’s all I need. It doesn’t fill the hole left by Luke’s absence, but it makes it hurt less. The hum of voices as people file into class gets louder, and as I look around I realize that I know everyone’s name, and I’m sure most people know mine. We say names every week, mostly because we have someone new every week. It’s shocking in its own way. Are there this many assholes? And this many girls like me? It may be eight weeks but, really, the class just sort of continues on and rotates. Sort of like the women here.

My heart’s suddenly hammering so hard I don’t think I can breathe. I know what she’s about to ask. Do we have anything to share ? “Does anyone have something to share today?” “I’m supposed to see Shawn this week.” It blurts out of my mouth before I can stop it. “Have you seen him?” Cynthia asks. She’s our ‘moderator,’ but really she’s a shrink like Dad. “Not since the night he was arrested.” I shake my head. I focus on her, but then my eyes travel around the circle. “It’s like I hope I’ve learned enough or changed enough to do it.” “Take someone with you,” Robin suggests. She’s a pale woman with raven-black hair; unreal beauty and I can’t imagine anyone hurting her. “I was okay until I left.” Carol, Kelsey and Jen all nod. I’ve never taken in their faces before, not really—I only look up when I have to. Facing Shawn seems really, really stupid. But they’ve all done it. Guess I can too. And then my turn is over, and we’re listening to someone else’s story. Not so bad. Not so horrible. I might even come back after my last week. Once or twice. *** Mom wants to visit Diane. Dad wants me to see Shawn. Closure. The word makes me want to gag. We pull up to the facility and it’s a beautiful March day. Weird. Shouldn’t it be windy or hailing or snowing or

something? Even though it’s Sacramento in March? I don’t want to go in, don’t want to talk, don’t want to see him, but my legs pull me out of the car and walk me across the parking lot, my heart hammering louder with each step. I stop before we go through the front door and turn to Dad. “Really?” He stands a good ten feet from me. “If you want to leave we’ll get in the car and go.” He takes a long pause, letting me soak in his words. “But that’s not like you.” I clench my jaw. “Cheap shot.” He’s right. If I turn around here, I’m a coward. He chuckles behind me as I jerk open the door. It’s so normal in here. There’s a front desk and chairs and a few wooden doors leading somewhere. Somewhere that houses Shawn. I stand and rest my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Yeah, this is me, Ronnie, here to see my ex-boyfriend. And yeah, I’m the reason he’s here. Totally relaxed. No big deal. Right. Just because my heart’s pounding and my lungs can’t find enough oxygen doesn’t mean I’m nervous. I’m totally cool. This is all okay. Time means nothing as we wait in this white, sterile room. I don’t sit. Just stand. There’s too much nervous energy bouncing around in here for me to do anything else. We’re led back to a common area and there he is. Just like that. He’s sitting in a chair, ‘Shawn-style.’ His jeans fit him just right and his white t-shirt is snug across his chest. I resist the urge to reach out and hold Dad’s hand. He stops behind me and lets me walk forward. Shouldn’t there be

guards or something? A glass wall? Protection? A guy in worn khakis and a plastic name tag hanging on a lanyard leans against the wall near Shawn. Guess he’s my protection. “Hey,” I say, stuffing my hands in my back pockets, when really I want them wrapped around my front. “Didn’t think you’d actually come.” He folds his arms across his chest. “Dad made me.” Shawn looks the same, but I know now that most of what I saw in him is what I wanted to see—as much memory as the present. “Right.” Shawn smirks with narrowed eyes. “Cause he’s into all that touchy-feely stuff, too.” I sit in the chair that faces him ‘cause I’m Ronnie, and I’m totally relaxed. Right. Relaxed, and still having a hard time with breathing, which is supposed to be a reflex. “This is so weird. I don’t know what to say.” “Then it kind of seems like a wasted trip, huh?” He’s giving me the face he used to give his parents when he was annoyed. The one he tries to make unreadable. I’m not sure what to make of it. Luke was right. The boy who kissed away my cherry lips isn’t here. There’s probably almost nothing left of the boy I fell in love with. It’s so sad. I wonder if even Shawn realizes what he’s lost. “I don’t know.” Is it wasted if I don’t know what to say? “How’s Luke ?” I hate this face from him. This angry, frustrated face. I hope things change for him, get better, because right now he seems worse. Being here is

supposed to make him better. “I have no idea.” I can’t sit back in the chair. My knees press together in front of me and my hands clasp together tightly. His brows go up. He can’t hide his surprise at that. “Mom wants me to finish my senior year in here.” “Is that what you’ll do?” I ask. “Probably.” He nods. “Oh.” This means no court. No testifying. No pointing him out behind the defense table. “Thank you.” “What does it have to do with you?” His brows come down. “I just…it would be hard, you know. To testify.” He sits back. “Yeah, well. Try living in here, Ronnie.” His posture is relaxed, but I know Shawn well enough to know every muscle is tight. “It’s not exactly fun times.” Dad tenses behind me. “I didn’t put you in here, Shawn. You did.” His face softens, and suddenly the Shawn I remember is here. We stare at one another for a moment, so much between us. What feels like a lifetime of experience hangs in the air. “Is this where we are? I never thought you and I would be fighting like this.” Crap. Sympathy tugs inside my chest. It would almost be easier if he kept on his angry mask. I stare at my lap, unsure of what to do. “How’s your dad?” I glance up and realize immediately it wasn’t the thing to say. He scowls. “Are you just trying to throw all the shitty

parts of my life back in my face?” “No.” I shake my head. “That wasn’t…I was just … ” Crap. There’s probably nothing I can say to appease him right now. “Screw you, Ronnie. You didn’t try to stand by me earlier. I don’t know what would make you suddenly start now.” His jaw flexes. I open my mouth to apologize, but I just don’t think I have it in me to apologize to Shawn anymore. His life may have gone to crap, but it happens to people all the time. I stand up. Wow. Check me out. I’m just going to walk away. Walk out. And I’m okay with this. More importantly, I can do this. “See you Shawn.” I smile just slightly, turn and walk back towards the door we came in. Dad follows. I don’t look back. I know Shawn just well enough to know he’s still scowling. He knows the old Ronnie who would have turned around with a sympathetic face and called or written to apologize for something that wasn’t her fault. I’m not that girl anymore, and he’s a pale, pale shadow of the boy I fell in love with—more bitter than I ever imagined him being. “Are you glad we went?” Dad asks, as we step outside. Glad? “I don’t think that’s the right word, Dad.” I stand next to his car waiting for him to unlock the doors. “But I feel good, you know? Like if he can’t get to me anymore, I’ll be okay.” I’m sad for Shawn. It’s like it took me this long to realize I lost the boy I used to love and that he might not ever come back. And it is a loss. Maybe one day he’ll find that guy again, and the girl he chooses to be with will be lucky to have him. Or, maybe he’ll end up like his dad.

Either way, I know I don’t want him anymore. And that doesn’t give me the relief I want it to. It makes my breath hitch and my knees feel weak. It’s really gone and over. Done. “You’ll be more than okay, Ronnie,” Dad says. “You’ll always be more than okay.” And the women were right. I needed someone here. Just for this, just for after. I throw my arms around Dad and exhale. I need someone to help fill the hollowed out feeling in my gut.

~ 24 ~ I step inside the house after school. It still amazes me that there are only weeks left in my senior year. Dad’s voice carries from the backyard. “Don’t work yourself into the ground.” He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll head out there. I’m trying to take a long vacation from work, but we’ll see what happens…if I worked three days a week I might manage the whole summer, but it’s not like we’ll even see you with that crazy schedule of yours.” I stand still as stone in the entry. Who is he talking to? And why can’t I take a deep breath? “I’m really glad you called, Luke. I miss seeing you around. I don’t want to get in the middle of anything here. I know she misses you, but I’m glad she has this time on her own.” The walls close in. The ceiling comes down. I’m in a box with no air. It’s awesome and horrible that he’s talking to my dad. It’s like he’s right here. On the phone, his warm, smooth voice, his dimples, wide smile and golden eyes. But I don’t get it. Him. Not even his voice. I drop my pack on the floor and lean against the wall. His

smile, his words on the night we met by accident outside, “My attention is divided.” And then later, “I wasn’t acting,” and the way I crushed him in my driveway after he laid everything out for me to see. “I love you so much that I

can’t imagine myself with someone else.” I have this weak, shaky, heart-pounding fear that I’ll never get another chance with him. Because, I, Ronnie Bird, blew it. “Well, I hope to talk to you again soon…thanks for the call.” Dad’s voice gets lower. Dad steps through the back door into the house and slides the phone into his pocket. His face falls as our eyes meet. “How is he?” I ask. “Did he call for me?” But that’s kind of a silly question since he called Dad’s phone and not mine. Dad lets out a breath and his eyes flit to the floor before meeting mine again. Frustration and anger start to build. I don’t know if I’m mad at me, mad at Dad, mad at Luke, or just mad at everyone. “Look, it’s not like you can hide who you were talking to. I’m just asking you one stupid question!” My jaw trembles and I hate my stupid chin; it’s like a sign to Dad— your daughter’s about to cry so you’d better give in. “He’s buried himself in work and school.” Nice. Trying to protect me in the most ridiculous way possible. And working to death. Just like his dad. Do all sons have to inherit their father’s weaknesses? I need my room. “Ronnie, wait. We should talk.” Dad takes a step forward. I don’t speak. I just hold up my hand between us as I start down the hall. My door slams, my iPod speakers get turned up, and my body becomes a small ball on my bed.

*** When I wake up part of me finally realizes I really, actually, probably won’t get Luke. And it sucks. And it hurts so bad it’s hard to breathe, but I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I’ll get through this just like I’ve gotten through everything that’s happened this year—mostly this means I’ll just keep moving forward. I don’t know what to say in texts to Luke, so I don’t send any. The last bits, or the beginning bits of communication between us, are cut off. Arsenic and Old Lace is a huge success, and I’ve found a serious passion for acting. It’s something I’m good at, that I like doing. This doesn’t mean I have any idea what I’m going to do in college, but that doesn’t matter either. I’m okay with going and working towards whatever I decide on later. I ask Curtis to Prom. One, I know he’ll go with me. Two, I know we’ll have fun. He’s tall enough that I can wear my heels, and knows I have no interest in dating him. We kiss at the end of the night because it seems like you shouldn’t end a prom date without a kiss. That, and he keeps teasing me because he never got his kiss while he was Romeo’s understudy. Because Luke never missed a rehearsal. Not once. Graduation is a flurry of excitement; filled with cheesy speeches and Mindy and I making fun of the people in our senior class before they’re all gone and we can’t anymore. We use our notebook to make predictions about what our friends will be doing with their lives at our ten-year reunion.

She’ll be working this summer and will also be hooked to Paul. Apparently all he had to do was give her some space for her to fall head over heels crazy in love with him. I’m leaving to spend the summer at the beach house. The whole summer. One mile from the boy I still love who might not want to see me.

~ 25 ~ Every mile further from home is another mile closer to Luke —and uncertainty. We weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow, but after some pleading on my end we took off, knowing it’ll be dark when we arrive. I sit sideways in the backseat, my new iPad on my lap, and scroll through emails. One from Luke comes up. My heart jumps and I open it.

Ronnie— I love you. I want to drive to your house and hold you. I can’t believe that jerk put you in the hospital! It’s like my insides are being torn out from the thought of it. But I don’t know if you want me there, or if I can handle another rejection from you. I guess…know I’m thinking about you and love you as much as I always have. Love, Luke That’s bizarre. That whole situation was months ago. I check the date on the email. It’s dated a few days after my last email to Luke, the one where I told him about Shawn in jail and everything. Has he kept it all this time? Maybe he knows we’re coming. I close out of Luke’s email and there are three more from

him waiting in my email inbox. My heart starts to race. The next email is more of the same. When I refresh, there are four more emails. I check the dates. All old. In order. Starting after the day I first emailed him, Luke wrote me nearly every day. Every day. For how long? I sit for a moment and hit refresh on my email account, four more. I start to read, realizing that he knows I’ll be there tomorrow and he wanted me to have these before I came. My heart’s hitting inside my ribs, full of hope and excitement and forcing a ridiculous grin to spread across my face. …I think I get it. Why you couldn’t say yes that night. It wasn’t a fair way to tell you how much I loved you. It’s just that I’d been holding onto it for so long, it had to come out… …I hope Shawn’s never let out. He doesn’t deserve to be… …you know, I really thought I’d keep up with theater in college, but I get what my dad does now. The graphic design and commercial stuff. I always thought it was dorky before, but now I get it. It’s art, and I’m loving it… Every time I go back to my inbox I have more letters from him. I can’t believe he wrote all of these. My hands shake as I click to open the next letter. …Prom is next weekend. Part of me thought about

coming back, but after a semester in college, it seems silly. I’m trying not to think about who you’re going with. It’s killing me to not do everything in my power to beg you to be with me. To wait for me, because I’m waiting for you. Waiting to tell you over and over how much I still love you… …I feel like such a betrayer for talking to your dad. Mine’s never around, even though I’m starting to understand him better as I start to understand what he does. It’s so nice to hear about you and how well you’re doing from someone who loves you so much. I’m sure if you knew we talked, you’d be pissed. I would be. It really isn’t fair that I’m in a position to know how you are, but at the same time, I have no idea if you care how I am, not in the same way. Wish I could have seen you in Arsenic and Old Lace. I’m sure you were brilliant. I’m scared to death I’m making a huge mistake by leaving you alone. It’s that this part of me knows that you need it, even though it’s so hard to give it to you… …if you’ll let me, there’s no way I’m staying away from you this summer. I’m wrapping my arms around you the minute you step out of the car. I love you, Luke “You okay honey?” Dad asks as he drives. “Yeah.” But the iPad is heavy in my hands, and shakes, even though it’s resting on my knees.

Months of letters. Months. I can’t even count them all. “Sorry we didn’t get there sooner,” Dad says. I glance out the window at the last gasp of the setting sun. My heart leaps, we’re almost there. Luke’ll be here and he wants me. Me. Even after all I did. And we’re here. So close. I start to pull out my phone, but I’m looking past Mom and Dad out the windshield. Right. Don’t really want to talk with Luke when I have company. Only a few more minutes. I can wait that long. The second we stop, I leap out of the car, throw my parents a wave and say something about finding Luke. My legs push hard as I run down to the beach. It’s empty. I see one jogger in the distance and no one else. My whole body is strung up on nerves and hope. There has to be a way to calm myself before seeing Luke. I’m still shaking. I start to walk south, hoping that walking will slow my heart down. Slow my thoughts. And even though my dress is linen, and brand new, I step into the edges of the waves. The cool water sliding bits of sand through my toes is something I’ll never get tired of, but walking isn’t what I need now—there’s too much pent-up energy inside me. I pull my skirt up and run like I did when I was a little girl. I run fast and hard, letting the water spray out in front of me, splattering up my dress and making me feel five years old again. My laughter breaks the stillness of the air and lightens me, almost enough to fly with the gulls. I stop, completely out of breath. The beach is still empty. Really, I should do this every day. I’m probably almost all the way to Luke’s house. My heart races. What will happen

when I get to his door? Just a few more minutes of prep, right? I can do this. I can see him and tell him I love him and that I’ve missed him. It’s like my heart’s higher up in my chest than it should be, the excited tension still making my chest flutter. My dress is already wet, so it really doesn’t matter how much water I get on it. I drop the skirt and let the wet ends soak up the ocean as a wave comes up to mid-calf. I walk in until I’m knee deep. That was always the rule. Knee deep, no further. Even now, at eighteen, I still feel safety from that. Like nothing can hurt me here. But things are different now. I’m eighteen, and I obviously really know how to get myself wet; I can sink and drown, like I almost did with Shawn. I step in deeper. But not much. Just over my knees. Just so I know I can do it. My dress blends and disappears into the water around me. I feel like a mermaid or something, coming up for air. The surf hits my knees hard tonight, must be a spring storm somewhere out in the Pacific. “Ronnie.” My name comes out in a rush of air. I spin to see Luke just before he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly against his chest. My heart beats against his as our bodies press together. “You’re here early,” he whispers in my ear. “I missed you every day. Every day.” “Me, too.” I squeeze my eyes tight and pull harder. Why didn’t I call him? Why didn’t I do more or try harder? I’m ho ld i ng Luke. After months of not knowing, not

understanding, my arms are around him and I’m holding him the way I should have the night he begged me to be with him. “I got your letters.” He pulls away just enough to see my face, and it’s like he wants to see all of me, as if we’ve been apart for years, not months. His eyes flit around my face, taking me in before going down to the water between us. “Knee deep.” He smiles, running his fingers down through the ends of my hair. “Feel safe here?” “With you.” And that’s really it, isn’t it? I feel safe with Luke. I trust him. I trust him in a way that I probably didn’t trust Shawn since I was too young to ever distrust anybody. Our eyes meet again, and there’s no way we can stand like this and not kiss. Every cell in every part of me pulls and pushes toward him until our lips are together, sending waves of shivers through me. The kind that heat me up, fill me, and take me over in a way I want to be taken over again and again. His hands cup my face in his. I swim in him, get lost. My hands lightly grasp his wrists as his hands hold my face and our mouths slide together again. He pulls away first, keeping our faces close enough that I feel his warmth. “I’m so sorry I didn’t send the letters sooner. I just…I needed to feel like you had time, like you were really ready to be with me.” His lips brush against mine as he talks. “I’m really ready.” I push up on my toes. “So, we’re way past knees, right?” he teases. I pinch his Lego t-shirt. “We’re all the way in.” We kiss again, but now it’s different. It’s everything. It’s

me and Luke and our future and our past, and everything mixes between and around us. His mouth is soft. I don't know how he does it, but it melts me like nothing has ever melted me before. There’s no way of knowing where I stop and he starts, where the water touches me, where my feet hit the sand, because it’s all pulling for us. Pulling for this moment. We’re hit by a wave and I stumble backward, but my foot gets caught in my dress and there’s nowhere to go but down. I scream as I laugh, and we both fall. Luke manages to keep my face above the water, but he comes up for air just as we’re hit by another wave. He sputters the water out of his mouth and I kiss his salty lips as we’re both doused again. He pulls me onto his lap and we sit at the edge of the ocean, the water still sliding up and over my waist. “I feel a little silly sitting in the ocean in my clothes.” I press my nose into his dimple, and his fingers stroke my hair again, and the sides of my face, my shoulders… “Sorry, I can’t stop touching you.” His smile is softer than mine, full of things that are real, that are love, that are part of Ronnie and Luke. And I know, as he feels me with his gaze, that I'll have some big firsts to add to my notebook. Soon. Maybe in just weeks. His hand rests on the back of my neck and our mouths meet again; his kiss is deep, warm, and unrelenting. The cool water swirls around us. My body will never recover from the way he touches me. Maybe I’ll have new ‘firsts’ in just days…

He climbs to his feet and pulls me up to stand beside him. My green dress clings to me, making it hard to move. We’re caked in sand and saltwater—the perfect start to summer. “I love you, Ronnie Bird.” Every word floats through me. “I love you, too.” Maybe I’ll have something to add to that notebook in hours… He pulls me into his arms, harder this time, grabbing fistfuls of the back of my soaked dress, his mouth pressing into mine. The cool night air is no match for the heat that is Luke, holding me like he needs me. “Let's find you something dry to wear.” His breath is hot on my ocean-soaked face. My heart explodes in my chest, sending heat through me, happiness, excitement. Maybe my list will change in minutes… His golden eyes hit mine again, but only because he’s pulled far enough away for me to see them. “You ready?” “For anything.”