Melanie Marks His Kiss (ang)

HISS KISS By Melanie Marks

Copyright 2011 Melanie Marks

All Rights Reserved.

HIS KISS by Melanie Marks

Griffin shut his locker, then did a double-take when he saw I was standing there, waiting for him. He tilted his head with his usual smirk. Only, it wasn’t exactly his usual smirk. He looked perplexed, but sort of happy too. It was like he was trying to figure it out, mentally scratching his head: Why

would shy little Ally Grange be standing at my locker? He cocked his head further, quirking an eyebrow. “You looking for me?” I sucked in my breath and gave a slight nod. His lips twitched, obviously entrained by my discomfort. “What’s up?” I bit my lip. Good question. Tugging at the hem of my sweater, I took a deep breath, trying to summon up a little courage. I needed it. ‘Cause Griffin wasn’t exactly considered a nice guy. In fact,

he was considered a terror on the hockey rink and not much different off it. And I wasn’t exactly Miss Confident when it came to mean people. I shied away from confrontation—any confrontation—and tormentors—at all cost, but here I was, seeking out Griff the Grief-Master. He smirked again, his eyes twinkling with a strange combination of curiosity mixed with amusement. “Just spit it out.” “Aiden Hanks,” I blurted like a cough. “He’s my …” When I choked again Griffin finished for me still looking curious. “Your boyfriend.” I nodded, surprised. I didn’t know Griffin knew that. I didn’t know he knew who I was. Griffin grinned, light dawning. He had definitely figured it out. “Oh, you’re here to beg me not to bash his face in.” He tossed his history book from one hand to the other, looking amused. “The twerp sent you?” “No!” I rushed out my next words to stop him from getting the wrong idea. “Aiden doesn’t know I’m talking to you.” He grinned. “Then why are you talking to me?” “Because—like you said, I don’t want you to bash his face in.” I stared into Griffin’s twinkling eyes. “Please don’t.” I don’t know where that came from—me being brave enough to stare into The Griff’s eyes. Maybe it was because he kept smiling at me, acting like I was fun to talk to, or look at, or something. Griffin leaned against his locker and wet his pink, kewpie-doll lips. He gazed at me intently a moment, then up

at the ceiling. Finally he groaned, letting out a breath, and looked back into my eyes. “Look,” he said, for once sounding serious, “I have to. The punk talked trash about me in front of the whole team. It’s not like I can ignore it.” “Yes you can!” I said, following at his heels as he started to walk away. I said it again, all squeaky and desperate this time since he was ignoring me. “Yes you can!” Griffin kept walking, so I kept following, like a puppy dog begging for attention, yipping at his ankles. “Please, can’t you? Please?” I grabbed on to his arm out of desperation. That was all, just to get his attention since he had apparently ditched listening to me. But when I grabbed onto his arm he abruptly stopped walking. I mean, he froze. Yikes! My chest went tight. What had I done? Griffin turned back to me and stared at my hand on his arm. I snatched it away lightening fast, terrified he was going to hit me for touching him or being annoying or something. But when he didn’t push me down or pound me to the ground or do anything but stare at me with his gorgeous long-lashed eyes, I swallowed finally going on with my plea while I had his attention—only now I was shaking and unnerved on even more levels. I mean, The Griff was … hot. He was. I wasn’t really paying attention to that before, since I was pleading for my boyfriend’s life, but now that Griffin was looking at me like that—well, I noticed. And it distracted me, even now while I was petrified.

Still, even though my mind reeled from that, I managed to squeak out, “I have some money—not much, but …” Griffin smirked, then shook his head. “I don’t want your money.” For some reason, that made my stomach feel funny. I guess because of the way he said it. And the way he looked at me when he said it. It pushed my pulse into overdrive and got my heart pounding. “Then what?” My voice hitched. “What can I do?” A sardonic grin played on Griffin’s lips as he eyed me. Then he lifted his chin and challenged. “Kiss me.” My stomach fluttered. “Wh—what?” Griffin’s eyes twinkled. “You heard me.” I stared at him. He had to be kidding. Had to be. Only he didn’t look like he was kidding or sound like he was kidding. He looked and sounded amused, teasing, but still, serious. Like it was all funny to him—getting Aiden Hank’s girlfriend all worked up and sweating—but he’d let Aiden off the hook if I did what he said. Those were his terms. He had offered me a deal. Only … it was weird. “You,” I swallowed, feeling slightly dizzy, like maybe this moment wasn’t really real. Like maybe I had fainted from fright when I first started talking to The Griff and now I was hallucinating or daydreaming or something. “You—you want me to kiss you?” He set his jaw, but he was still smiling. “Yeah. Kiss me and I won’t kill your boyfriend.” A strange feeling washed over me—a tingling combination of excitement and horror. I backed away, and

leaned against the lockers behind me for support. I was all wobbly and sweaty and shaking as I tried to get my brain to actually work—to think. “Um…” Really? That was all I had to do? Kiss him and Aiden was off the hook? It didn’t seem possible. Or right. There had to be more to it than that. After all, I wasn’t exactly Miss Sexy, far from it. Boys didn’t even usually notice me. Not that I was ugly, I guess. Aiden said I was “beautiful.” But then, Aiden was my boyfriend. And sweet. The Griff wasn’t either of those. “I don’t understand.” Griffin shot me this adorable lopsided grin. It got my heart all confused and fluttery. “Yes you do.” Mmmmm. My pulse convulsed into a wild frenzy, my mind too. I bit my lip, trying to figure out the catch. There had to be one. Had to. Though Griffin was known as a troublemaker at our school, he was cute, adorable even. There was a certain “type” of girls that were always hanging on him—a type that was not at all like me. They were loud and forward and experienced with boys. I wasn’t like that. At all. And I wasn’t the type of girl that boys pined after. I was “nice” and “caring” and sure, maybe on a good hair-day, “pretty.” But that was about it. No way were boys lining up to kiss me. I doubted they even thought about me. So no, I didn’t get it. What was going on? It had to be something slimy. “That’s all I have to do?” I said skeptically. “Kiss you— nothing more?”

Griffin raised his eyebrows, his lips curling into a grin. “You can do more if you want.” Jerk! Humiliated, I started to slink away. But Griffin grabbed my arm, gently pulling me back to him. “Geez, I was just messing with you, Grange.” Grange? He knew my last name? His eyes danced as he leaned in close, close enough his warm breath tickled my neck as he asked, “So, we have a deal?” I backed away from him, trying to think. It would get Aiden out of trouble and it was just one little kiss. But … it was with a delinquent. Then again, my best friend, Jazz, was always saying I needed to loosen up and walk on the wild side. Of course, Griffin Piper was way more wild than what Jazz had meant. Jazz had meant wear bright purple rather than pastels. She didn’t mean date the school’s bad boy. But … But nothing! Aiden would get his sweet little face smashed to bits by The Griff if I didn’t do this. I couldn’t let that happen. I took a deep breath, terrified. What would The Grief Master’s kiss be like? I was a little bit curious, but mostly scared. I’d only kissed two boys in my entire life. I wasn’t experienced by a long shot and I was still slightly nervous that I couldn’t trust The Griff—that it wasn’t really just a kiss he wanted, though it did seem he had only made the deal to make me squirm. I mean, he just seemed entertained—like it would be fun either way: to bash Aiden’s face in or make

his girlfriend freak out. I nodded that we had a deal, then I gulped—big. Griffin noticed; he grinned. “Don’t look so scared, Grange. I’m a good kisser.” That in no way calmed my nerves. It only made my face burn and my cheeks turn a million shades of red, but somehow I was pretty sure that’s what he wanted. His eyes twinkled as he watched me prepare for the kiss, eyeing me wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and pump my fists a couple times, trying to psyche myself up. Finally, I puckered my lips and leaned in for the kiss. Griffin watched me with quirked eyebrows, looking amused. Finally, he gave a soft laugh. “Not here.” His eyes danced as I blinked up at him in confusion. What was he talking about? Not here? Where? Panic rushed through me. What exactly had I agreed to? Griffin gave another soft laugh. “In room 204. At three.” He leaned in close again, playing with a tendril of my hair. “You’ll survive. I promise.” *** When I got to room 204, Griffin was already there. He was sitting on a desk, bouncing a rubber ball. “About time,” he muttered, hopping off the desk. What? I glanced at the clock on the wall directly over his head. It was only 3:02. Two minutes late.

Griffin eyed me as I gawked at the clock. My face turned red. Oh, now I got it. I could tell by his smirk he was only kidding. “Come here,” he said. His words and the way he said them, all husky and quiet, made me start to sweat, but also feel butterflies bat around in my stomach. I stood in the open doorway, unable to move. Griffin sighed with a slight grin and came over to me. Gently, gently he took my hand, pulling me out of the threshold and silently closed the door. Then he gently backed me up against the door he just closed, pinning me there, but in a half-playful, half-seductive way that had my knees weak and my heart fluttering. “Take it easy,” Griffin murmured softly, like I was a wild colt that needed soothing so I didn’t bolt away. His fingers lightly stroked my hair. “I’m not going to hurt you, Grange. I promise.” His hands—just touching me—was like electricity shooting through my body. My breath caught and I made this slight moaning sound. It was embarrassing and yet I couldn’t really focus on it or anything that was happening. All I could think about was his lips. They looked so soft and pink and shiny. I’d thought about them before actually, lots of times, dreamed of them. Every night for a while. Back in junior high I’d had this mad, monster crush on him. It was embarrassing and stupid and crazy since he didn’t even know I was alive. And, yeah, he was a thug.

Still, it made this moment … surreal. My head was swimming. I had all these wild, scattered thoughts dashing around in my brain, but they all came back to this: I’m going to kiss The Griff, The Grief Master! It had my heart pumping frantic and my pulse zooming wild. Gripping the door behind me for support, I wondered if I was going to faint. It seemed like maybe I was. Or have a heart attack. Something dramatic and embarrassing like that. I squeezed my eyes shut wondering what it would be like kissing The Griff for real. Would he be like out on the hockey rink—rough and tough? Would he give me whiplash? Somehow, I didn’t think so. If his kiss was anything like his touch just now, or like in my junior high macking dreams, I was going to explode and die from delight. Full of curiosity I leaned in for the kiss. But there was nothing. No mouth crashing into mine, no I love you, Ally confessed in my ear. No nothing. I leaned in further and waited. And waited. Still … nothing. Finally, cautiously, I peeked my eyes open just a squint wondering what was up but afraid that my face was right next to his. It wasn’t. Griffin was just watching me, his seductive brown eyes glistening like he knew exactly what had been going on in my brain. He gave a husky little laugh and then (oh!) he

drew his soft, pink lips against mine, just brushing them— lightly, tenderly. Though it felt oh-so-good—or maybe because it did—I tensed and jerked a bit. Just a tiny bit, but still, I jerked. “Relax.” Griffin’s sexy, pink lips hovered over mine, just barely—teasing me, making me yearn. Then his hot mouth pressed against mine for real. Only for a second though, because just then Mrs. Finkle barged into the room from the side-door, which connects to Mr. Johnson’s class. The large woman plopped down her armload of books on the nearest desk but we didn’t really notice. We didn’t notice anything except our tongues and heat and passion. Well anyway, that was all I noticed— until her loud, booming voice made me jump a mile in the air. “I’m going to give you two exactly one second to clear out of my classroom,” Mrs. Finkle huffed impatiently. “Then I’m handing out detention slips.” *** So, that was the first time I kissed “Griff the GriefMaster.” And I—at the time—wasn’t even sure it counted. I mean, it counted for me because it was amazing. I’d felt tingles all the way down to my toes. Seriously. Tingles. It had me in a dreamy, hormone-induced daze for hours. But I wasn’t sure if The Griff would count it as a real kiss since we’d only barely touched lips—well, tongue—

when Mrs. Finkle barged in and interrupted. Dang her! Anyway, I wasn’t sure Griffin would count it as a real kiss. So, as my best friend, Jazz, and I waited to meet up with Aiden after his hockey practice I was incredibly anxious. Jazz and I sat huddled over our trig books in the school library pretending to be doing equations, but really we worrying and discussing whether The Griff had punched in my boyfriend’s face or not. I hadn’t told Jazz about the kiss or what Griffin had said —that if I kissed him he wouldn’t kill Aiden. I’m not sure why I kept it from her. I basically tell her everything. But I didn’t tell her that. I guess I was kind of embarrassed about it or felt slightly guilty about it or something. I’m not sure what exactly. But I just couldn’t bring it up. Anyway, I gave a literal sigh of relief when Aiden finally came into the library—his adorable face still intact. I sighed again as he slid into the seat beside me and grinned, showing off his little cute dimples. Love! “I saw Griffin at practice,” Aiden said, leaning in close and talking confidential-like as we were in the library where you aren’t supposed to talk, and so that anyone that didn’t already know The Griff had a beef with Aiden didn’t find out now—add fuel to the drama flame. Another smile crept on Aiden’s adorable lips as he went on whispering to me animatedly, obviously still on a high from his escape from near death. “When Griffin showed up at practice—late—I was ready to have it out— totally ready to die—right there, at practice. And The Griff

made a move toward me, like ‘I’m going to kill you, punk.’ But then he laughed and said, “Nah, just kidding. We’re square.” Aiden chuckled, like it was hilarious, but I knew it was just relief. He’d been scared, even more scared than he was letting on. Aiden had wanted to fit in with “the guys” on the hockey team. But he wasn’t like them. He was sweet. When he tried to be “tough” it just pissed everyone off. The guys on the team called him a “poser.” It hurt his feelings, and definitely if he got his face smashed in by The Griff that wouldn’t have helped. So, deep inside me things were gushy and excited. My heart was doing acrobats. Griffin had let Aiden off the hook —because of me. Because of my kiss. How cool! My kiss had saved my boyfriend’s pretty face. Awesome, awesome! I felt all warm and tingly and tried telling myself that it was just because I was glad Aiden was okay and intact and didn’t get pounded to the ground in front of his teammates. But I wasn’t really sure that was the only reason. I mean, I wanted it to be the only reason, but I was afraid it also had to do with The Griff—that he had let Aiden save-face (literally) because of me. I felt … touched. Jazz raised her eyebrows then furrowed them, obviously astounded by the unexpected turn of events. “We’re square? Griffin said that? We’re square?” She said it again, incredulously, like: No way. Aiden shrugged, still smiling. “That’s what he said.”

Jazz didn’t look convinced. “Maybe he wants it to be a surprise attack.” Aiden shrugged again. “I don’t think so. He seemed in a good mood—like he just aced a test or something. He let me off the hook—we’re square.” “Griffin Piper doesn’t let people ‘off the hook,’” Jazz said knowingly, like she was all up on Griffin. “He’d beat you up on principle alone. You called him a Neanderthal.” Aiden didn’t miss a beat. “He is.” “Yeah, but see, that’s just it,” Jazz said. “He has a reputation to uphold.” I traced my lips, still feeling the warmth of Griffin’s hot mouth, or imagining I could. Obviously, Jazz was wrong. Griffin didn’t care about maintaining his bad-boy reputation as much as she thought. Apparently. Either that or … he wanted to kiss me pretty bad. The thought made my body kind of spastic and had all the hairs on my arms standing on end. Only that was nothing compared to my heart. It was beating all crazy. But it was dumb to get so worked up over the ridiculous thought. I knew that. It wasn’t like Griffin had a “thing” for me or anything. He didn’t. I knew that. I don’t think he even ever noticed me before. Well, I used to think that—that Griffin didn’t notice me. But he knew my last name was Grange, and that Aiden was my boyfriend, so obviously he knew more about me than I thought. But we never had any classes together—and he never talked to me before. Well, except once. It was a long time ago, though.

Back in junior high I’d been carrying an armload of books as I had to change lockers since the girl that had the locker above mine liked to make-out with her boyfriends at her locker, which was, you know, in the same proximity as mine—like right on top of it. And I totally hated to interrupt them to get into my locker, especially because the girl was kind of scary. I mean, I was actually slightly afraid of her. So, instead of being late for every class, or hauling my books around with me everywhere, I decided to change lockers. Anyway, I was carrying an armload of books and some guys were joking around, wrestling with each other in the hallway and one of them, Jake Edwards, accidently bumped into me and knocked down the top couple of my stacked books. Jake laughed about it and called me a “school girl,” and in case you can’t tell, Jake was a jerk back then (and still is, by the way). But Griffin had been one of the guys messing around with Jake. He might have even been the one that pushed Jake into me. I’m not sure. But anyway, there were three of them—three big, bully-guys. So I was nervous and just wanted to get away from them. I even considered leaving the dropped books behind and just taking off. Seriously, that’s how bad I wanted to get away. But as I contemplated making a dash for it, Griffin quickly picked up the fallen books. Only then he didn’t hand them back. At first I was terrified he was going to start chucking them at me or at random people as Jake and his friends would probably do something like that, and Griffin

had seemed like that kind of jerky guy too. But he didn’t chuck them or do anything mean. Instead he said, “Sorry, about that. Your arms are pretty full.” He started to take the rest of the stack from me. “I’ll carry your books for you, okay?” His friends razzed him for that, making kissing noises and saying, “Aww, Griffin’s all soft for School Girl.” But Griffin just quirked his eyebrows at them like they were idiots—which made me right then and there instantly get a monster crush on him—and secretly keep it for the whole next year, though Griffin never talked to me again and immediately started dating skanky girls—one right after the other. So, that was that. Until that day— When Griffin kissed me and didn’t bash in Aiden’s face. *** But all that happened almost a year ago. And I didn’t kiss Griffin again until the night of Fiona Lutz’s party and I wouldn’t have even gone to that party if Aiden hadn’t dragged me along. So, in a way, it was kind of Aiden’s fault —again. See, the thing is—I’m not a party girl. I mean, I’m just not, at all. And Aiden knew that. But Fiona was his new lab

partner and she invited him to her party and so, of course, Aiden wanted to go. Because Fiona is all cute and a cheerleader and has killer curves. So, ugh. “Come on, Ally,” Aiden had coaxed. “It will be fun.” “No it won’t,” I’d said, completely serious and determined not to go. Fiona wanted Aiden. She did. And she wasn’t even shy about letting him know—or me know, for that matter. No way was I going to go to her party and watch her hang on him, drool on him. I’d rather stay home and barf. At least then I wouldn’t be doing it in front of people, but having to hang around and watch the way Fiona scammed on my boyfriend and the way he sucked it up—turning into a total sap—it would definitely make me barf. And I wasn’t up for it. But Aiden had been my boyfriend for a long time. He knew how to push my buttons. “Come on, Ally—please? All the guys from the team will be there. I’m still trying to fit in with them, you know that.” Ugh. Guilt. Working. But I wasn’t ready to cave, not yet. “Can’t you just go without me?” I sulked. “I don’t like drinking parties—you know that. And I hate Fiona. She’s going to flirt with you all night and I’m going to rip her hair out.” Aiden laughed, snuggling up to me. “That would be fun

—I’d like to see that.” “Yeah, so would your team,” I snorted. “Look, just go alone.” He squeezed my hand. “You know I won’t go without you.” “Right. So lets just stay home and watch a movie—I’ll make you a lava cake.” (One thing you should know about me—I like to cook. A lot. I might become a chef, only probably not.) “Look, Ally,” Aiden said all be reasonable, “I don’t like Fiona—not like you’re worried about. But I have to get in with the guys—they treat me like crap.” I sighed. In the end, I gave in to him because he was my boyfriend and being part of the team was important to him. It was. I knew that. But so was Fiona—she was way more important to him than she should have been—whether he was willing to admit it or not. And he wouldn’t have been so insistent that we go if it had been one of “the guys” inviting him to a party. But then again, “the guys” would never invite him to a party. So, blah. I made Jazz come with us, though, so she and I could whisper about what a skank Fiona was—while she was hitting on my boyfriend. But at the party, Fiona made the rounds, not seeming all that into Aiden, which was a relief. But then everyone started gathering in the basement—well not everyone, but a lot of people and Aiden dragged me over to the largest group. They were playing a game called “Three Minutes in Heaven.” It was kind of like spin the bottle, but there was a closet involved.

Aiden had said he just wanted to sit in the circle with the group since most of the hockey team was hanging out over there, but he swore we would only kiss each other if our turns ever came up (which it didn’t seem very likely our turns ever would since the group was so big). And he swore he wouldn’t kiss Fiona. He swore it. He said, “Of course I won’t kiss her, Ally.” Then he grinned, flashing me his dimples and looking all adorable. “Not even if she begs.” So, we went over to the group and I made Jazz come with us and our friend Destiny too who was somehow at the party though I didn’t think to invite her and so I was kind of shocked to see her because she was like me and didn’t go to drinking parties. But there she was, sipping at a drink and was all, “I wanted to have a little fun.” So, I dragged her with us over to the enchanting game of “Three Minutes in Heaven.” The rule was, a person would spin the bottle and whoever it pointed to would choose someone to go into the closet with for “Three Minutes in Heaven.” When the bottle pointed at Aiden, it was kind of fun, because he chose me, of course, and we got to spend three minutes in the dark closet kissing which was sort of fun as we had never done that before—kissed in a pitch black closet with half our school outside the door. But then, just a little later, I squeezed my eyes shut because the bottle pointed at Fiona. And she was slightly drunk. And totally a bimbo. “I want you,” she told Aiden.

All his team made “Ohhh,” noises and “Go for it!” chants and Aiden cut his gaze to me, like wanting my permission, like please don’t make me look whipped in front of the guys, Ally. But Fiona grabbed his face all seductive, and made him look up at her, into her smoky, I want you eyes. “It’s just a game Aiden,” she purred. “Your girlfriend can handle it.” Then she dragged him into the closet—only it wasn’t exactly dragged. He didn’t put up as much of a fight as he should have. In fact really, he didn’t put up that much of a fight at all. I mean, he had a big, goofy grin on his face. I was going to get up and leave, but Destiny put her hand on my knee and Jazz whispered in my ear, “If you leave, she’s going to get her way.” And I didn’t want that—no matter what. So, though I could barely breathe, I stayed. And when they finally came out of the closet—Aiden all flushed and his hair disheveled —I tried to smile and talk with Jazz and Destiny as though I didn’t have a care in the world and I didn’t even know Aiden had been away. I could feel his teammate’s eyes on me as Aiden took his seat beside me, but I went on telling my friends this hilarious story that happened at school today—though I was making the whole thing up and I could tell Jazz and Destiny knew it. Still, they sat staring at me with frozen smiles trying to play along and act like my story was fascinating and incredibly funny and everything was super terrific though my world had just fallen apart.

Aiden took my hand and kissed it and whispered in my ear, “Sorry, Ally. I didn’t know what to do.” I snatched my hand away and went on talking with Jazz and Destiny and totally ignoring him. He whispered, “Are you mad?” Totally stiff, I shook my head, still talking with my friends. The game went on, from one curious couple to the next. We were in a big circle with around thirty people, so only half were really paying attention to the game—the other half just visited, only getting into the game if someone they liked had the bottle point to them. “You seem mad,” Aiden whispered. “Ally, it’s not my fault. I didn’t choose her—she chose me.” Just then the bottle pointed at Griffin. I wouldn’t have even noticed, but Destiny squeezed my knee in anticipation. She totally had a crush on Griffin. She had ever since he sang at our school’s talent show. His band totally rocked it. Half the girls at our school now melted whenever Griffin so much as looked at them. Destiny sucked in her breath. But Griffin had been in the middle of a conversation with a gaggle of his friends and Hailey Cox—the girl that used to have her locker over mine in junior high. He didn’t seem to have a clue about the game—that we were even playing one. “What?” he said to the group since all of us were staring at him, waiting for him to choose a girl to kiss. “I’m not playing,” he informed us off-handedly, but then he seemed to weigh the game in his head. “Wait—I’m

supposed to choose someone to take into the closet?” He grinned, flinching his jaw from side to side like he does when he’s thinking, apparently changing his mind. “Okay.” Griffin looked our direction, and I swear, Destiny moaned. But what he said was: “I want Poser’s girl.” His teammates laughed, and Aiden blanched. I totally would have protested, totally said no. Of course. Only, I couldn’t help remembering Aiden’s goofy grin when Fiona led him to the closet. Or his lame defense afterwards. It made me jut up my chin and be all defiant and basically—yeah, okay—petty. “It’s not my fault,” I hissed to Aiden and hopped to my feet. My legs were all wobbly like rubber as I stumbled to the closet. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Griffin couldn’t seem to believe it either. He had this quizzical smirk on his face as he watched me get up, but he smiled and followed me into the closet, his friends busting up. They were chanting, “Look out Poser!” And Jake was all, “Griff is hot for School Girl!” We got more noise than any other couple that went into the closet—and there had been a lot of noise for a lot of couples, namely Aiden and Fiona. When the door was shut, Griffin and I were in the pitch black dark, and my heart was beating so hard I thought for sure it was going to slam out of my chest and ricochet off the wall. I couldn’t believe I was really here. What was I

going to do? Was I really going to kiss The Griff—for real this time? The thought filled me with a jumble of emotions— excitement, curiosity, fear. But at the same time, I worried about Aiden. I’d been mad at him, that’s what spurred me here. But was I mad enough to do this? Kiss The Griff? It would hurt Aiden. Kill him.… Just like it killed me that he kissed Fiona. My head was swimming, my thoughts sporadic and confused—but that was nothing compared to my heart. It was a twisting, thumping, scrambling mess. Griffin whispered in my ear. “Are we really going to do this or are you just mad at Poser?” His hot breath on my neck made me kind of woozy and lightheaded. But still I snapped, “His name is Aiden,” defending him because that’s what I did. Always. Defended Aiden. His teammates made me mad—livid. But then again, tonight Aiden had made me mad. And he broke my heart. I let out a breath, losing any fight or nerve I had. “No, we don’t have to do this.” Then I added, just trying to be diplomatic, since he was being all sweet, giving me the option and everything. “I mean, if you don’t want to.” Griffin flicked a penlight on, lighting up his tempting, luscious lips—making me melt, though he had no idea that’s what he was doing. He said softly, “I want to.” “Oh,” I squeaked, suddenly a shivering wreck. The way he said that—it had me panting.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was gentle, seductive, with just a touch of amusement. He backed me against the wall, bringing his warm hands up to either side of my face, gentle, gentle, gentle. Then slowly, tenderly his hot mouth pressed against mine, soft and sweet and tentative. I felt tingles all the way down to my toes. His kisses—they were so tender and warm and perfect. Things heated up quickly, though—went from toasty warm to sizzling. Griffin tangled his large, fervent hands in my hair, his lips becoming passion-filled as he drew me closer still, his seductive velvet tongue entwining, searching, tantalizing, his kisses growing with intensity until I was sure my heart was going to explode. Heat rushed through my whole body. This moment, this experience—it was so intense and awe invoking. Strong, trouble-making Griffin turning tender and passionate—it had me weak in the knees. Before long, he had to hold me up to keep me from toppling to the floor because I was gone—my brain, my body, my heart—every part of me melted into a puddle from his heat. “You okay?” Griffin pulled away slightly to study my face, his fingers lightly stroking my hair. Already I missed his hot mouth against mine, yearned to have it back. I nodded, trying to catch my breath, embarrassed that I couldn’t stand steady without his help. “Yeah. You’re just a —a really good kisser.” A fire burned inside me. I was glad it was dark enough he couldn’t see how red I was. I hoped. Griffin made a small laughing sound, then his soft, cupid-like lips were on mine again … totally giving me three

minutes of heaven. When the time was up the door was flung open, bright light poured into the closet. Griffin groaned, giving me one last kiss and then he pulled away—making me ache for him to come back, to hold me longer, hold me forever. He leaned his forehead against mine even as his teammates cheered in the open doorway, whooping and chanting as though he’d made a goal on the ice. He murmured near my ear, “That went by way too fast.” Man oh man, he wasn’t kidding. I could have done that all night. For weeks, months, years, forever. I don’t think I said anything. I could hardly breathe, let alone speak. I was too woozy and entranced. I stumbled out of the closet, my legs like rubber, my heart pounding so hard I was sure it was going to pounce out of my chest. I tried to play it chill, but I couldn’t wipe the dreamy smile off my face. I know it looked dreamy because Jazz and Destiny kept whispering that to me, even though Aiden was sitting right next to us, looking mad but trying to look like he wasn’t. I think that was partly why Jazz and Destiny were doing it—gushing on about me beaming. They were mad at Aiden for kissing Fiona. They were good friends. And Aiden was a lame, stupid, jerk of a boyfriend that deserved to hear their gushing. I could tell Jazz and Destiny wanted to ask me questions, giggle and get the juicy details about kissing The Grief Master, but they just kept giving me sidelong glances, telling me with their eyes that they wanted to know every single detail the minute we left the party.

Griffin kept giving me sidelong glances too, but I don’t think they were trying to tell me anything. He was laughing and talking to his group of friends—mostly Hailey. Still, I’d catch his eyes cutting to me every now and then. I figured he was just amused by my “beaming” and probably entertained that my friends kept gushing about our “Minutes in Heaven. Later that night Griffin caught me covertly watching him and he smirked. Ouch. I looked away and never peeked at him again though I could feel his eyes on me the rest of the night. I wanted to look so bad. But I resisted because I was red enough as it was. “Did you have fun?” Aiden hissed in my ear. It was the first thing he’d said to me since I came out of the closet. He’d been texting on his iPhone ever since I came back, probably complaining to his friends that I’d willingly gone into the closet with Griff, The Grief-Master. “Dang yeah, I had fun,” I chirped, trying to sound breezy. “Probably as much fun as you had with Fiona.” He slitted his eyes at me. “That wasn’t my fault.” “Neither was mine, Aiden.” He shook his head, looking like I can’t believe you. Then, with his eyes flaming and his expression totally take that, he snipped, “Fiona texted me a second ago. I’m giving her a ride to her friend’s house to get her car. She needs a ride—come on.” He got to his feet, acting like I would go along with this arrangement—his punishment for me going into the closet with Griffin.

No way. I stayed on the floor. “No thanks. I’ll stay.” “I’m not coming back,” Aiden growled through gritted teeth. I huffed and got up, just so we wouldn’t be making such a scene—me on the floor, him above, but what I said was, “Fine. I’ll find my own ride.” It was an empty threat—totally. I’d die if he left the party with Fiona. And I had no idea how I would get home since everyone here seemed pretty drunk. But no way was I getting in my boyfriend’s car with Fiona. Either he was going to give me a ride or her, not both. Griffin was at my elbow in a second. His lips twitched with an amused grin. “I’ll give you a ride, Grange.” Aiden opened his mouth like he was going to protest but then he snapped it shut. It was pretty funny to see. If I wasn’t so near tears I might have laughed. Instead, I just tried to keep from crying, grateful that Griffin had come to my rescue. If nothing else, at least there was that— someone on my side, even if it wasn’t my boyfriend, even if it was The Grief-Master. Aiden grabbed my hand, trying to drag me toward the door, but I didn’t move. Finally, he let out an exasperated breath and slammed down my hand. “Ally, the guy’s not interested in you. He just wants to piss me off. He’s never even looked at you before.” Griffin didn’t say anything to that, but he quirked his eyebrows at me with a playfully sardonic expression, like, Ohhh, you didn’t tell him.

And it was kind of funny because, you know, he’d obviously noticed me before. Since we’d kissed that time in room 204. But ... come to think of it, that could have been to piss Aiden off too. Actually, any attention Griffin ever paid me—it could have all been just that: to mess with Aiden. That made way more sense than anything else I could come up with. After all, Griffin had spent the whole night hanging out with Hailey —Hailey! That was the kind of girl he liked, the total opposite of me. Total opposite. Suddenly, the butterflies I’d been feeling over Griffin’s kiss dissolved. Poof. They turned into a pile of rocks at the bottom of my stomach along with all the other rocks that were already there. This night was a nightmare and getting worse by the second. As if to prove my point, Fiona came out of the bathroom just then and cozied up to Aiden. “I’m ready to go,” she said. Griffin bit back a laugh at that, raising his eyebrows as though he wanted to make a smart remark about her comment. Only, I could tell he was resisting—though it seemed hard for him. Still, he didn’t make a peep. Instead, he stayed silent just watching my face and flinching his jaw. He seemed to be waiting for something. I wasn’t sure what—me to cry? That’s all I could think of because I was afraid that was going to happen any second. I was going to start bawling. Aiden said it again through clinched teeth, “Ally, when I

go I’m not coming back.” I nodded, swallowing. “Good, don’t. If you leave with her, I don’t want you to come back.” Fiona flashed me a wicked smile. Then she tugged on Aiden’s arm. “Come on,” she purred. “I’ve got to go.” But Aiden didn’t move. He stood looking at me, and I stood looking at him. I was ready to cry and he looked ready to do the same—burst into tears. Which was bad. His teammates would never let him live it down. I knew I should just give-in. I knew that. There was no way Aiden could win in this situation—not now. If he backed down, the guys would call him “whipped.” They did anyway, all the time. They said I led him around by a tight leash. So, this wasn’t helping. But ugh! He made-out with Fiona in a closet! Made-out. With her. No way was I getting in the car with that nasty witch. Finally, The Griff let out an impatient breath. “Come on, Fiona. I’ll give you a ride.” Fiona blinked. “What? No. I want Aiden.” Griffin’s lips twitched a smirk. “Yeah, no kidding. We all know that. But you’ve caused enough trouble for the Innocents tonight.” He pulled her towards the front door. “Come on. They want to make up.” “But—but—” Griffin ignored Fiona’s protests leading her outside. When they were gone Aiden let out a deep breath and then swallowed, still dangerously close to tears. “Ally, I’m

sorry.” “I know,” I said, pulling him toward the front door. I didn’t want him to cry in front of everyone and once he started apologizing he would be a blubbering mess. Me too. I knew that—so I didn’t want the apologies to start now. I wanted them—big time. But not now. Not here. Anywhere but here. As it was, the guys were saying, “Look at Poser, he’s about to cry.” Jerks! I led Aiden outside and he immediately hugged me tight as soon as we were out the door. “Ally, I was an idiot.” He sobbed into my hair. “I’m sorry.” I started bawling too because I loved Aiden, but he was a total tool—or at least he had been tonight. Actually, had been lately—ever since he became chemistry partners with Fiona. It made me want to smack his head against the wall really hard. But I didn’t. Because he was crying and he was sorry that he was an idiot and bashing his head in would be wrong. Only … at the moment, it seemed it would feel really, really good. *** Okay, I have to tell you that Aiden doesn’t go around crying all the time. He doesn’t. But he is really sensitive and emotional. That’s what I loved about him. Two years ago,

when we got together, that’s what drew me to him. I mean, besides the fact he’s gorgeous—with dimples and blond, curly hair and everything. But I didn’t really, truly give Aiden a second thought until he had to read this essay he wrote in Honors English. He got all teary-eyed as he read it, and it got me teary-eyed. It made me think, “I want to get to know him.” And once I did, then … I wanted to kiss him. But we didn’t just automatically get together after that essay—well, not exactly. See, he was shy and I was too. So, it took us a while to even have a conversation. It helped that I would hear his friends tease him about me whenever I walked by. They’d whisper stuff like, “Ohhh, look at Aiden blushing —there goes his crush.” Stuff like that. Stuff I wasn’t supposed to hear. Only, you’d have to be deaf not to. Anyway, that helped me be brave. So, one day before class started, I told him I really liked that essay he had read in class. It had been about breaking-up—loving someone so much, and then having to endure watching them move on and love someone else. I told him I was writing a song about it. (I happen to write songs about everything.) And he smiled all cute and amazed and said he liked to write songs too. And then he mentioned he plays the piano, and I play the piano, so … it was like there were cupids flying around our heads, shooting us with arrows. The world was a beautiful place. Not long after that, I asked him about the girl from the

essay—asked him if he still liked her and he gave me this shy smile and said, “No. Now I like you.” Awww. My heart melted, right there—became his to wound. I loved everything about him. Loved how he was shy but gorgeous, and amazingly talented but sweet beyond belief. The sweetest guy I ever met. I wanted to be around him all the time. We started getting together to write songs, first in the library, then after school, and we’d play duets on my piano, and before long we were inseparable. And he fit right in with my friends, which was perfect. It was almost like he was one of the girls. Only he was a really good kisser. Really, really good. (Though I didn’t have a lot to compare him to.) He was awesome, amazing. He would go shopping with me and my friends and watch our “girly” movies with us and help us bake cookies. Plus, as I said, he was a good kisser. So see, he was a totally perfect boyfriend. But then, ugh. Last year he joined the hockey team—which was great. It was. Only, he wanted to “fit in” with those losers on his team. And he never would. Never. And I was glad because they were Neanderthals and Aiden wasn’t. He was the total opposite. He cried in Toy Story 3, bawled. It was sweet and I liked him like that. It sucked that he tried to be a different person around his teammates. That’s why they called him a “poser.” Because he was. Around them. He tried to be someone he wasn’t, all tough and “guy” like. So, our fight that night—after the Three Minutes in

Heaven—could have gone differently. I could have been all understanding, knowing Aiden was just “posing.” Only it sucked that his “posing” meant he didn’t have a back-bone and he couldn’t say, “No, I’m not going to kiss you, skank—I have a girlfriend.” Aiden and I fought long and hard after the party and I didn’t talk to him for the rest of the weekend. He would call and call and call, but I wouldn’t answer. I was mad, fuming, and honestly considering breaking-up. He had known I hated Fiona. He knew that. I had made it totally clear—multiple times. She was a sleaze and I knew she was after him. But Aiden always denied it. He always said, “She doesn’t like me like that, Ally. I know it looks like she does—but she doesn’t. She’s just a flirt.” Then, when I huffed at that, he had this awesome comeback: “Look, Ally, she’s a hockey cheerleader—why would she want me?” Grrr! That had me seething. Like cheerleaders were so cool —so above everyone else. Like of course I was good enough for him—I wasn’t a cheerleader. What really pissed me off (and broke my heart) was he seriously felt that way, really and truly. His teammates and the hockey cheerleaders—to him, they were Gods, in this world he wanted to be part of. So irritatingly bad. Anyway, Monday morning I texted Aiden and told him I didn’t need a ride to school, Jazz had me covered. But Aiden showed up at my house anyway. He came extra early —bearing roses and an apology note that made me cry. It

was so sweet and honest and said all the right words to get my heart all mushy. Plus, I wanted to make-up. More than anything, I really did. So, I let him drive me to school. But I didn’t exactly forgive him, not exactly. I felt wounded and betrayed and it didn’t seem that damage to my heart would ever heal, no matter what he said or did. It was sad, tragic, but that’s the way it was. It kept putting me near tears even after his note and apologies. As we walked down the school hallway together—not holding hands, but not fighting either—we passed Griffin at his locker. The Griff smiled at me as we walked by, getting my heart kind of fluttery and beating all spastic and wild though I knew it was stupid—stupid to get so worked up over a guy that was just playing around. But oh, his kiss! His kiss, his kiss, his kiss. It totally rocked my world—even now, still, I was reeling from it, even while I was bleeding from my boyfriend’s knife in the back. “Hey, my Three Minutes in Heaven,” Griffin drawled near my ear as Aiden and I walked by. He was with Hailey, standing close to her, messing with her iPod. Still, I could feel his eyes on me as we passed and he was still looking at me when I glanced back afterwards. His eyes lingered on me as he bit at a small grin, looking yummy and seductive without even trying. But then Hailey nudged him and he went back to talking with her, probably instantly

forgetting all about me because he was like that. Out of sight, out of mind. When a girl wasn’t right there in his sight, she was completely out of his mind—he instantly forgot about her … or in this case, me. “I hate that guy,” Aiden growled, apparently noticing I’d glanced back. “Oh, and I adore Fiona,” I said, making it sound like we were in the same situation. But we weren’t. Not even close. Fiona actually really seemed to like Aiden—like, a lot. And Griffin was just messing around—playing with me to stir up Aiden. So … Grrr. *** Slowly, over the next week, things seemed to be getting better between Aiden and me. I mean, we weren’t fighting anymore and he was being extra attentive and sweet and writing me romantic poems and love songs and stuff. And I’m such a sap, a total sucker for that sort of thing. So, I was beyond distressed when I got to school the next Monday morning. Jazz had given me a ride since Aiden had hockey practice before classes. But just as we came in the school building Destiny grabbed my arm looking all anxious and worried. Just from that—her expression—my heart was in my throat.

“Aiden’s about to get his head bashed in,” she said. A violent tremor rushed through my body as she gestured down the hallway. There was a large crowd of students gathering near Aiden’s locker, too many for me to see what was going on—but I could figure it out easy enough. One of Aiden’s teammates was about to make good on the mounting threats. Aiden bugged them. He was loud and annoying, trying to prove he was tough. It pissed them off. My heart was exploding. I rushed toward the mob of onlookers, then tried to fight my way through the crowd to Aiden. I got close enough to see it was Jake Edwards fighting with him—huge, mean Jake Edwards. “Stop it!” I shrieked. “Leave him alone!” I tried pushing through the rest of the crowd to get to Aiden and Jake. My frantic plan was to pull them apart, and make Jake stop pounding on Aiden. But just as I was almost there someone grabbed me around the waist from behind, pulling me back. It was Griffin. “Don’t go in there,” he grunted as I fought to break free of his hold. “Grange, you’re going to get hurt.” “No! Aiden’s getting hurt,” I cried. “Griffin, let me go! I have to stop it.” Griffin quirked an eyebrow, but still held my wrist. He eyed me up and down as though making it clear I was tiny. “How are you going to stop it?” I swallowed, about to stutter something out but then realized he was right. I would get massacred if I got near

the violent, wild fist throwing. I swallowed again, looking up into Griffin’s brown eyes, totally pleading, though I knew it was pointless. Griffin disliked Aiden. Really, really disliked him. Still, I had to try. “Will you stop them? Please?” “Me?” Griffin raised his eyebrows, eyeing me as though I asked him to throw the cafeteria trashcan over his head—something disgusting and nasty. “No.” He let go of my arms, taking a step away from me. “No. No way. The punk has it coming.” “Griffin, please. He’s getting clobbered. Please!” Griffin winced as I begged. “Please, Griffin? Please, please?” He gazed up at the ceiling flinching his jaw. Finally, he stared into my eyes seeming to be contemplating my request though visibly repulsed by it. “Please?” He let out a breath, punching the locker next to him, then reached through the crowd and grabbed Jake’s arm as though it was nothing. “Fight’s over,” Griffin said. “What? No way. What’s with you, man?!” Jake tried to break free of Griffin’s hold but Griffin pinned his arm behind his back. “It’s over.” I ran to my bloody, stupid boyfriend, too worried and anxious about him to thank Griffin or even acknowledge his help.

But that afternoon in cooking class we made fat double-chocolate cookies. I mean, they were huge. And we each got to take two. So I put one in a baggie for Aiden and the other I put in a baggie for Griffin. I was going to give it to Griffin right after class, but then I couldn’t. I mean, I waited at his locker planning to give it to him, but when I saw him coming I chickened out and ran away. So instead, all during French class I worked on a “thank you” poem. It was pretty too. I liked it. But I made it kind of “vague” and almost impossible to understand. Because I decided I would leave it for Griffin anonymously. He would never know it was from me or what it was for. He would just know that he did something nice and someone appreciated it. I thought that was kind of romantic. I left class early saying I needed to use the restroom, then I hurried and used it so it wouldn’t be a lie. Then I ran to Griffin’s locker and slipped my poem through the little slot in the door and then, quickly, I taped the cookie, still in its baggie, to the outside of Griffin’s locker. Then wham, I took off running down the hall super fast so I would be nowhere near him or his locker when he discovered the cookie and poem.

***

So, that was that was that—pretty much. I’d thanked Griffin in my own, shy, twisted way. Then, I went to work on forgetting about him. It ended up being way harder than I thought it would be. Way harder. The thing was—his kiss. I found myself thinking about it a lot. Like, constantly. Way, way, way too much. Way too much. At night before going to sleep, when I was writing a love song or poem, when I was brushing my teeth or taking out the garbage —all the time. Even when I was kissing Aiden. I couldn’t help it! Thoughts of Griffin’s kiss would just creep up into my everything and turn my brain all mushy and oozy. It was bad. And it was that way for weeks. Weeks and weeks. So, when Aiden and I finally broke up for the first time I was crushed … but not devastated. Because well, his kiss didn’t exactly do it for me. Not anymore. So, when I caught him sitting all close to Fiona in the school library, not kissing but practically. I mean, they were basically fused together as they were “studying” and he— he played with a lock of her hair. Played with it! Like curled it around his finger as he gazed at her like she was a love goddess come from the hockey rink to make all of his “guy” fantasies come true. Seeing that—it was like a punch in the stomach. By Aiden. And his actions. And his eyes—the way they were looking at her all, I want you. Oh man. Witnessing that scene—trauma to my heart. I clutched my stomach, reeling from the pain. Seriously, I almost died

from a broken heart right there. But instead I took a ragged breath telling myself I’d had enough. I couldn’t take this, not anymore. I mean, he liked her. He did. I could tell by the way he was looking at her and smiling at her and drooling on her. It was sick. Made me sick. I started to shake and sweat and practically double over from pain. He was my boyfriend. But the way he was acting with her, you would never guess it. Not in a million years. It was more like they were in love and going to start making-out any second—right there on the library table. Okay, I knew that wouldn’t happen. I knew that. Aiden would never technically cheat on me, not technically. But to me—at that moment—he was cheating on me. With his eyes. And heart. And hair-curling-fingers. So, instead of going into the library and talking to Aiden as I was supposed to—as we planned—I ran home and cried. And cried and cried. I felt as though a knife had been slammed into my heart. And back. By Aiden. The next day I broke up with him. *** The next few weeks were horrible and black and involved a lot of me curled up in a ball crying. The thing was, I was confused. And hurt. Confused by my feelings. Hurt that my so-called boyfriend (or ex now) had the hots for

some other girl. Though Aiden would text me time and time again saying things like, “I miss you, Ally,” and “Just talk to me, Ally,” I would never text him back. I was waiting (hoping) for something bigger. Something he would do or say to convince me I had made a mistake, something to reassure me that we were still right for each other. Something. Something to help me feel confident in our relationship again and help me believe we still belonged together. I needed that. I was waiting for it … but it never came. Then one horrible Monday I rounded the corner heading to Biology but stopped dead in my tracks. There was Aiden up ahead at his locker—holding hands with Fiona. Everything inside me died. I couldn’t move or breathe. Aiden must have felt my eyes on him because he looked up at me as he was smiling and talking. His eyes turned pained and he winced, dropping Fiona’s hand like it was on fire. Fiona noticed. She turned her attention from her friends to give Aiden a bewildered look. Then her eyes followed his gaze to me standing there in the hallway watching them. Seeing them together my heart shriveled. Everything inside me died, right there at Aiden’s locker. Everything. It hurt so bad. And then! As though I was the problem—Fiona glared at me. She glared at me! She squinted her eyes, then she put her arm through Aiden’s and snuggled up to him. Aiden

looked tense and uncomfortable as she did it, his eyes cutting to me, but he didn’t push her away. That finally got me moving. I ran to the girls’ bathroom and hung out in a stall trying to breathe and not cry. But it didn’t work. I missed most of second period because I was bawling my eyes out. Then later that day while I was in French class trying to listen to Miss Feefee and not think about my boyfriend actually now being my ex-boyfriend I got a text from Aiden. It said, Look, what did you expect, Ally? You won’t even talk to me. I didn’t answer his text. Instead I messed with my eyes, wiping at them over and over. They kept pooling up but I kept shoving the huge tears away before they could spill down my face. Only … I wouldn’t have answered Aiden’s text anyway, even if I wasn’t busy trying to block my emotions and keep from bawling again. I didn’t answer because there was no way I could. I didn’t know what I expected of him. I had no clue. I just kept hoping he would somehow woo me back. Even now I still hoped that. But it was dumb. I knew that. I didn’t want a boyfriend that was all into another girl. And he was. So … Ache. Pain. But the confusing thing was: I was kind of into another guy. Sort of. Only, I didn’t want to be. At all. It was so dumb—having

a “thing” for The Griff. Stupid. Okay, Destiny had a huge thing for him. But she was into tough guys. He was her “type.” Sort of. Not really though. She didn’t actually date anyone. Ever. She just lusted after them … from afar. But she talked a good game, always saying stuff like, “If I ever got the chance I would jump on The Grief Master and smooch those soft-pillow lips of his until I couldn’t breathe.” She was always saying stuff like that. It was funny, though I did have to admit although Griffin was all tough and “kill them!” on the hockey rink, so incredibly rough and scary, his lips were gorgeous and silky soft—like fluffy pillows. And his kisses had been so gentle and sweet and Mmmmm. Ugh! Ugh, ugh ugh! I didn’t want to think about them—Griffin’s kisses. I didn’t want to think about Griffin. It was totally all Aiden’s fault that I was suddenly a puddle over The Griff. Totally. Pretty much. If he hadn’t gone into that closet with Fiona I would have never, ever, ever gone in there with Griffin. But now, as it was … I was a mess. Aching and yearning for a guy that was all wrong for me. It was pathetic and hopeless and made me feel stupid. So, I totally tried to stay away from Griffin, though that plan sucked and hurt kind of bad since I had a major crush on him and ached to see him every minute of the day. Still,

it was cake to avoid him since I didn’t have any classes with him. But I would see him around school sometimes, usually with a skanky girl or two. Whenever he would catch me watching him he would give me a slow grin, like he found my crush on him entertaining, and whenever we would pass in the school halls he would call me his, “Three minutes in Heaven.” Little did he know he really was mine. Only yeah, okay, he probably did know. The way he grinned at me—he totally knew. Ugh! But anyway, I tried to be over him. And over Aiden. I decided to like this other guy, Milo, instead. Tried. He seemed right for me. He was in a lot of my honors classes and on a lot of the same school committees as me. He seemed sort of perfect. And safe. Like he couldn’t break my heart since I didn’t really, truly like him, but I figured I could like him “enough.” Enough to get me through my tormented heart, get me through my break-up and my ridiculous crush. Maybe. Hopefully. If I really, really tried. I mean, he was nice and seemed to like me a lot and we had a lot in common. Plus, he was in the school play and had a singing part and I was kind of into singers these days since Griffin sang in his hot band. So I kind of smiled at Milo a lot and tried to act interested in him whenever he would talk to me, which he did a lot now ever since Aiden and I broke-up. Anyway, it seemed like a good plan—having Milo for a distraction, moving on. At least that’s how I felt … sometimes.

For the rest of the week I smiled at Milo as though my world was bright and sunny and like he helped make it that way. I smiled, smiled, smiled—while inside I was dying. But then that next Friday during lunch hour Milo came and sat in the cafeteria with Destiny, Jazz and me. He never did that before and it was kind of like a huge step— moving from us just chatting together, sort of semi-flirting between classes—to actually eating together. I kind of cringed as he slid into the seat beside me though he had on a sweet, little sly smile—like look at me, look what I’m daring to do. It was cute. Only he was sitting in the spot where Aiden used to sit and though, in a way, it was a relief to have someone sitting there—taking Aiden’s spot—it also made my stomach feel like it was full of rocks. Because it wasn’t Aiden in Aiden’s spot and I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to have someone else take it. It was confusing. It would have had my friends scratching their heads if they knew, since I’d longed to have someone take Aiden’s spot like Fiona had seemed to take mine. So, I was filled with convoluted, mixed emotions. Still, I sat trying to act glad that Milo had joined us unexpectedly. Because all week I had been sending the poor guy signals, confusedly leading him on—like I was ready for this, someone to take Aiden’s spot. Unable to eat my lunch due to the rocks in my stomach, I sat frozen trying to listen as Milo was telling me about this concert he was going to next Friday. I was pretty sure he was going to ask me to the concert—pretty sure—so I

acted interested in the band, though I wasn’t really. And I felt all anxious and sick and I wasn’t sure if it was just nerves because I hadn’t dated a boy other than Aiden in over two years or if I really just didn’t want to go to the concert with Milo—hang out with him for a whole, entire night. The thought sort of made me depressed and made my heart ache. Still I listened to him—or pretended to listen to him— with a fake smile plastered on my face, but inside I was thinking: What do I want? I had no idea. Did I want to somehow get back together with Aiden? Did I want to break-up totally forever, so there was no going back? Did I really want to go forward, dating another guy even if I didn’t really even like the other guy?

What do I want? It just ran through my head, over and over—what do I want? What do I want? What do I want? And then … he walked by. Griffin. That totally captured my attention—for a second. Got my heart all racing and my palms all sweaty. And I think I might have moaned. I know Destiny did. But I might have too. In any case, for a second that was the only thing in my head—the only thing. That memory of Griffin and me alone in the closet. There was nothing else, not in the whole world. No cafeteria, no anxiety about “spots” or dates. Just

Griffin’s gentle warm hands and his hot, seductive mouth. It had me panting. But then—gasp!—Griffin turned back towards our table, like he could feel my eyes on him.

Oh! My heart ricocheted off my rib cage and I jerked my gaze away from him as though the sight of him repulsed me, though he’d already caught me staring at him all dreamy eyed and hungry. Still, I looked away and refused to look back at him, only it was hard because now I could feel his eyes on me. Still, I tried not to look at him—tried so hard —knowing what I’d see if I looked. Griffin’s amused grin. So I didn’t look. Instead, with my ears flaming and my cheeks hot and flushed, I started talking to Milo a mile a minute in this squeaky high-pitched voice, having no idea what I was even saying, just hoping Griffin could see I wasn’t a dorky fan-girl with a dorky school-girl crush on him—I didn’t even know he was alive, didn’t have a clue, because I was totally, totally into the star of our school play. Totally. That’s what I wanted it to look like. And I guess it did. At least to Aiden. I know because right then I got a text from him. I clicked open my phone wondering what he had to say. All week he’d been texting me messages like “Lets talk, Ally. Please.” Stuff like that. But when I saw this text, my stomach dropped. ‘Cause he’d sent a picture. A picture of me, right now, in the cafeteria smiling all

red-faced and happy looking at Milo. In the picture, we looked like a close, intimate couple, all into each other and ready to start macking. Under the picture Aiden had texted, Really??? That’s all it said. But it made my stomach drop and my heart ache and get all twisty and in a frenzied uproar—more than it already was. I swallowed hard, clicking my phone shut as my gaze involuntarily scanned the crowded cafeteria. The first thing I noticed was: Griffin was gone. It gave my heart an unexpected jab of disappointment. Only it was silly. What was I hoping? That he would still be standing there, watching me?

Stupid! I didn’t see Aiden though either, anywhere. “You okay?” Milo asked. “Was that bad news?” He gestured his head towards my cell. “You look kind of … sick.” “Um, yeah,” I said, all flustered and unable to concentrate on Milo or what he was saying. My eyes kept darting around the cafeteria, the word “Really?” bouncing around in my brain. “Um … yeah, I feel sick,” I said, totally not lying. I got up from the table, clutching my stomach. “I’m going to go to the nurse’s office.” Destiny and Jazz were at my heels in a second as I hurried toward the cafeteria exit. “What was that about?” Jazz’s voice was kind of like

she was scolding me. “Why’d you leave Milo like that?—he was going to ask you out.” I breathed out a jittery sigh, then showed her Aiden’s text. Jazz made a tsking sound, narrowing her eyes. “What kind of lame game is he playing? Just let him go, Ally. He was at Shondra Livingston’s party Friday night with Fiona. They were totally making-out.” I clasped my stomach harder, feeling as though I’d been punched. My heart squeezed with pain. I could barely breathe, yet I had this urge to scream—at Jazz. I stared up at her, unable to say anything for fear of crying. Finally, I gave out this tiny little sob. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jazz’s gaze cut to Destiny, then back at me. “We were just trying to spare you drama—but, Al, he’s not worth it, not anymore. Just cut him loose and move on—to Milo. Milo’s nice.” “And cute,” Destiny added. “And he definitely likes you.” Jazz made this humph noise that she does when she’s going to state a fact she dares you to deny. “He was staring at you all through lunch like he wanted to gobble you up. And you made him think you liked him too—admit it Ally, all week you’ve been leading him on—smiling and flirting, laughing at his tryingtoo-hard lame jokes.” I bit my lip. It sounded pathetic, but she already knew. “I wanted to like him.” Guh!

I couldn’t really concentrate on this—the conversation, or Milo’s puzzled, hurt eyes that kept darting to me now from across the cafeteria, looking all What’s going on? Why’d you leave when I was going to ask you out? I couldn’t concentrate on that. I was in too much pain, feeling as though I had a knife in my heart. I was bleeding all over the floor. Aiden had gone to a party with Fiona? They were making-out? Already? Suddenly, I was all sweaty and shivery and ready to puke. I knew it was stupid, that I should have known—been ready for this kind of news. But I wasn’t. I’d seriously thought we’d somehow get back together. I needed to get away—away from my friends and Milo’s eyes and Aiden, wherever he was. I needed to be alone so I could curl up in a tiny, tight ball and cry. “Look, go back to Milo,” I whimpered, still clutching my stomach. “He looks sad, sitting there all alone—but I have to go.” I headed towards the exit. “I have to get out of here.” I ran out of the cafeteria and into the closest bathroom. It was the same one I had cried in a couple of weeks ago. I locked myself into the exact same stall as before and did my now usual thing—bawled.

*** The next Friday night I went to the concert with Milo. It wasn’t horrible but it was kind of awkward. Before I agreed

to go with him I explained that though Aiden and I had officially broken up I wasn’t really ready to officially date yet. So, we went to the concert as “friends.” Still, he kissed me on my doorstep at the end of the night. I wasn’t expecting that and it was … awkward. Not awful. But not good. I have no idea what made him think he should make that move. I spent the whole rest of the weekend writing long, sad passages in my journal about how horrible it is to break-up with someone—even if you know it is over and for the best. Still, it’s hard. Hard to move on. Hard to see the other person moving on. Because you’d been together so long and it was comfortable and trying to get over that—and find it with someone else, it sucks. I wrote tragic poem after tragic poem about it. Then a song that made me cry. Mostly because it made me think of Aiden and that essay he had written before I really knew him and how I’d made a song about it and then we had gotten together and wrote tons of songs—together. Tons of them. Just like the one I was writing now—only now writing it was heartbreaking because I was alone. And it seemed like I might always be alone—not ever find another boy that would like to write songs. I knew I’d been lucky to find Aiden. I always knew that. I planned to spend all Sunday night bawling and typing everything that I had written in my “journal notebook” into my computer. (I write everything out with a pen into this ratty, old notebook that I carry around with me at all times, then if what I write seems worth it, later I type it up into a folder I

labeled “My Life.” It’s a pretty pathetic folder.) Anyway, my plans got axed when my aunt called inviting my mom on a trip with her to Belize—that night. My aunt had won the trip from a game show on TV and she was going to go with her boyfriend, but he ended up backing out at the last minute because he’s a toad. So, though my mom wouldn’t normally up and leave me so unexpectedly—she did. Because my aunt was sad because, you know, her boyfriend is a toad. So, my mom went, but she had my cousin, Kendra, come and stay with me, since her mom (my aunt) was going to Belize. Mom kept saying it would be fun having Kendra over. But I knew it wouldn’t. Kendra is my age and goes to my school, but we don’t have anything in common. Nothing. It’s not like we hate each other. We don’t. We just have nothing to say to each other. Because she’s all Party-Girl and scary and hangs out with people like Hailey—not Hailey, per se, just people like her. Maybe even Hailey. I don’t know. I’m not really up on my cousin. But anyway, Kendra came over so I couldn’t do my bawling while I typed my woe-is-me stuff into my computer. Instead, we went to the movies. Kendra’s boyfriend, Seth, works at the movie theater in the mall, so he got us in for free which was good because though Mom gave me fifty bucks before she left, I wanted to keep it as I was saving up for a guitar. I couldn’t actually play one—didn’t know a thing about them, but … I wanted one. I wanted to learn to play. Thing was, I wanted to learn forever. Since junior high. But since seeing Griffin play his guitar with his band in the

school’s talent show, I suddenly had a renewed interest. Now I wanted to play … bad. So, anyway, I was glad I didn’t have to use Mom’s fifty dollars. And I was glad Kendra’s boyfriend had to work so he couldn’t watch the movie with us, ‘cause we ended up watching this movie about a girl that fell in love with this guy and then they finally got together and they were happy for a while and then they started fighting all the time and then he cheated on her and then she broke up with him and then the movie ended. Just like that. They were in love and then they fought and then they broke up, the end. It was not a good movie. But it had me bawling. It was embarrassing. Especially because Kendra is so not someone I wanted to bawl in front of—not that I wanted to bawl in front of anyone. But still. When she saw me quietly blubbering at the end of the movie she looked at me like I was nuts. So, I explained to her that Aiden and I broke up and though I didn’t quite love him anymore, I was still sad and hurt and in confused agony. “This is a job for Cold Stone,” Kendra said. She bought me chocolate cake-batter ice cream in a white-chocolate covered cone and she told me about this loser guy she used to date, Zack. “I was so in love with him,” she said. “But he kept cheating on me, so I had to break up with him—had to. But it was so hard and I cried all the time. But now I’m dating Seth and soooo happy.” She licked at her ice cream, then went on with a laugh, “Now, of course, Zack calls me all the time, wanting to get back together. But no way. He’s dog.

I’m so better off without him.” It was kind of comforting to hear her say that. That the break-up had made her sad, but now, after all the heartbreak, she was happy and better off. That was comforting. But the thing was—Aiden wasn’t a dog. And I missed him. I did. I wasn’t sure if I was better off without him or not. It kind of seemed I wasn’t.

*** The next morning, I woke feeling optimistic. Not about Aiden. That seemed over, whether I wanted it to be or not. It was just the way it was. So, I decided to try harder to be okay with it. I decided to try harder to like Milo. After all, he really was perfect for me. Really. He was a nice guy and he liked me a lot and he was cute. Everyone said we’d make a perfect couple. So … okay. I’d give it more of a shot, try harder. And really, I’d had fun with him at the concert. I did. Sort of. It was just—he wasn’t Aiden, and I would have to get used to that—a different guy. A guy I didn’t know so well and sometimes didn’t know what to say to. Like I said, it was awkward, but not horrible. I could deal with it.

That’s what I was thinking before school. But then something bad happened. See, Kendra talked me into driving my mom’s car to school. Because well, Mom wasn’t around, and there was her car in the garage, not being used, and we would’ve had to take the school bus otherwise. And well, Mom didn’t say I couldn’t take her car to school. She never said that. I just never did before— because she always needed it. But I couldn’t get her on my cell to ask. So in the end we took her car, and then like I said, something bad happened. Kendra had me stop at the 7-Eleven for a Slurpee before school and it was really, really foggy. Really foggy. And when we were backing up to leave the parking lot, we accidently backed into a dumpster. And when I say “we” I really mean “me.” I backed into the dumpster. Because it was super foggy out. And I didn’t see it. (Okay, I’m not the world’s best driver, I admit it.) So, that was fatal. Especially because right then I got a text from Mom that said she would be coming back this afternoon. (This afternoon!!) My aunt’s boyfriend ended up wanting to go to Belize after all. Toad!!! But Mom said she was swamped at the work, so she was glad things turned out the way they did. But I so wasn’t! I had to get the car fixed—now! I was freaking. Kendra looked at the dent in the bumper and shrugged, like no big deal—but then, she wasn’t the one that was

going to have to pay for it. Or hear my Mom scream about it. (Not that Mom would scream, but she’d be mad. I mean, I didn’t even ask.) “It’s not that bad,” Kendra said. Not that bad? Not that bad! The bumper was like, totaled. Okay, maybe not totaled, but noticeably messed up. I was all shaky and not sure what to do. Scrambled, frenzied worries raced around in my brain. I needed to get the car fixed, and I only had fifty bucks, and I doubted that would be enough. Only, how much was enough? I had no clue how much it would cost. A hundred? A thousand? More? A lot more? I had absolutely no idea. And I had a test first period that I couldn’t miss and I didn’t know where to take the car to get it fixed or how I would get there or get back to school when I brought it there and … Ugh! The list went on and on. It had my head reeling. I didn’t actually say anything aloud, though. I just stared at the car, my pulse racing and my head burning and my eyes watering. But I guess Kendra could tell I was freaking out. Because she said, “Chill, Ally.” Like I was screaming or throwing a tantrum or something. She was all matter-of-fact and told me her ex-boyfriend, Zack, would look at the car. “He has auto-mechanics first period. He can fix it.” She said it like, case closed, no big deal.

I let out a breath. She had said last night Zack was a dog. Still, I couldn’t help but get my hopes up—a little. Because getting the car fixed on school grounds while I was able to stay at school and be a good-girl and take my test and go to classes—that would be perfect. Awesome even. Only, it sounded too good to be true. Way too good. I bit my lip. “Will he help me?” Kendra waved off my question. “He’ll help me.” She sounded like there was no doubt. “He may be a jerk and have no idea how to treat a girl, but he knows his cars.” I trudged back to the driver’s side of the car and slid in. I hoped my cousin knew what she was talking about.

*** All during first period I worried about my car, which made it hard for me to concentrate on my test. Kendra had taken my car to the auto shop at our school before first period. She said she needed to talk to Zack about it “alone.” I was okay with that. Whatever she needed to do with him “alone”—well, I didn’t want to know. I just wanted my car fixed. And I hoped, hoped, hoped it wouldn’t cost a thousand dollars. I texted Kendra twice during class. She never texted back. It had my stomach in knots, but when I came out of

first period there she was, waiting for me outside the door. She was all smiling and looking … hmm. I don’t know. Mischievous? The smiling part had me relieved. The mischievous part? Not so much. It had my heart in a frantic uproar—not sure what to do, be excited or anxious. “So, what happened?” I asked. “Did Zack say he would fix my car?” “Oh, Zack didn’t come to school today.” Whhh? I felt as though I’d been punched in the stomach, especially because Kendra said it with a huge smile, still looking mischievous. It pissed me off. I mean, I needed help. My mom was going to freak and never let me use her car again, ever. And I’d never be able to buy my guitar. Ever. I was going to owe Mom money until after college. Maybe even after that. It had me sweating and aching and Kendra’s smile made me want to slug her. “So, why are you smiling?” I snapped. Kendra’s smile grew. “Because, Zack wasn’t there … but another guy was.” Her smile got even bigger and more mischievous. “He said he’ll do it. You just need to pay for the materials, and—” she laughed, “—you have to kiss him.” I blinked. “What?” She gave out another laugh. Then she raised up her hands, like she couldn’t believe it either. “That’s what he said.” My stomach was suddenly doing strange flips. “Who

said that?” My voice hitched as I asked, because I was pretty sure I knew. Kendra eyes danced, as though this was hilarious and she couldn’t wait to see my face when I heard the answer. “You know that hockey guy? ‘Griff The Greif Master?’—him.” She smiled kind of dreamy-like. “I’d do it. He has gorgeous lips. Don’t you think he has gorgeous lips?” I swallowed. Yeah, I thought he had gorgeous lips. I’d fantasized about those kewpie-doll lips of his night after night. Nonstop. For months. Because they were amazing—gentle and sweet and Mmmmm. So, no. No way. I couldn’t kiss him again. I couldn’t. It took me forever to get over that kiss—to stop longing for it. (Okay, I hadn’t stopped.) But it took me until last night to actually decide to definitely focus back on “nice” guys— guys I could actually date and hold hands with as I walked down the school halls. Guys like Milo. Milo, who just this morning I decided I’d soon be dating. Because Milo and me—we made sense. We took the same honors classes and were on the same school committees. We were “right.” And Griffin was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. All wrong. So, no. I couldn’t kiss him again. I just couldn’t. Kendra gave a little laugh, like this was so fun—

watching my face flush red as a beet. Grrr! She put on lip-gloss as she summarized her meeting with The Griff. “He said he’d do it for free. You just have to pay for the parts—the backlights and stuff. He said it will be about forty bucks.” “Forty buck?” I raised my eyebrows. I had forty bucks! I practically jumped up and down—okay, I did jump up and down. “Really? That’s it? Really?” She laughed. “That—and the kiss.” I waved my arm at her as though to brush off her comment, like it was silly. “He was only teasing. He’s not going to make me do that.” ‘Cause suddenly I knew he wouldn’t. Or anyway, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t. Griffin just liked to mess with Aiden, and it seemed The Griff found it was entertaining to do it through me—shy little Ally Grange who had a fan-girl crush on him. It was like he could mess with both Aiden and me with one kiss. It amused him. Way too much. But it wasn’t like Aiden and I were really on Griffin’s radar. I mean, it’s not like he was up on mine and Aiden’s relationship. He wasn’t. He probably didn’t have a clue we’d broken up. I was pretty sure the kiss would lose all of its fun for Griffin if it wasn’t going to piss off Aiden. Like that—the kiss would lose all of its appeal. “Oh I don’t know, Ally,” Kendra said. “Griffin seemed pretty serious about it. I mean, the guy is going to have to miss classes to work on your car.” For a moment that touched me, deeply. But then my

brain screamed, “Wake up, Ally!” This was Griffin we were talking about. Rough, wild Griffin. The Griff. The Grief Master. He didn’t do favors—he did pranks. And mean stuff. (Except when he was doing nice stuff, like pulling wild, mean Jake off Aiden when I asked, or helping to carry my books. But that stuff didn’t happen very often.) I smirked—but more for show than anything else, because really, I was still touched. “Does The Griff even go to classes?” Kendra grinned, like she hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. Probably not. I guess you have a point.” She flipped open her cell. “So, I’m supposed to text him back and let him know if we have a deal—do we?” I bit my lip, then nodded. “Sure.” I had to clear my throat ‘cause it was all pitchy. “Right. We have a deal.”

*** So, my head was not on my classes as I went to each of them. I tried to listen to my teachers—I did—but all I really heard was a persistent question at the back of my brain.

“Am I really going to kiss The Griff again?” The thought got me all oozy and gooey inside. Got my heart pumping frantic and wild and made my palms sweat so bad I couldn’t hold my pencil properly. But no.

Of course I wasn’t going to kiss him. Of course I wasn’t. Of course. I was still convincing myself of that. But it seemed pretty definite I wasn’t. Griffin was just messing around. He was always messing around. He didn’t have a “thing” for me, wasn’t pining away to kiss me again. I was a joke to him. Me and Aiden both. We were a different species to The Griff. Seriously. To him we were alien, foreign creatures— weird and amusing, fun to toy with. I could tell he thought that by the way he was always grinning at me. He thought I was weird. And me having to kiss him again? It was a joke to rile Aiden up again. That was it. It had to be. I mean, he was The Griff, the school’s Bad-Boy-slash-Hero. He tore it up on the hockey rink and seduced girls when he sang in his hot band. Then he just played around with the girls’ hearts never letting them anywhere near his. If he had one. He went from bad-girl to bad-girl, never getting serious. Just playing around. So, I definitely knew—for sure—he wasn’t pining for my kiss. Didn’t care if he got one or not. He was just doing the usual—playing around. And lets face it, I wasn’t his type anyway, at all. I was so far from it, it was funny. Maybe that’s why he always smirked when he saw me coming—my crush on him was a big, fat joke. Just like him wanting to kiss me—that was a big joke to him too. Part of his perverse humor—that I seriously didn’t get. At all.

Grrr! I got a text from Kendra during fifth period. She texted: “You practicing your puckering?” Then she wrote again right after that: “I hear The Griff is a great kisser!” I slunk down in my seat. She heard that right—but not from me. I didn’t tell her I had kissed The Griff before. I didn’t tell her anything. In fact, until this weekend I don’t think I’d had an actual real conversation with Kendra since junior high. So, I was reluctant to “share” with her something huge like that—because, to me, kissing Griffin was huge. Gigantic. I texted back: “He’s not going to make me kiss him. He was kidding.” I was almost positive of that now. The further the day went along, the more sure I became. Still, I was sweating and shivering and my heart started up like a jackhammer whenever I let it think about Griffin’s sexy, soft lips, or warm, gentle hands, or … a closet. Kendra texted back: “We’ll see, Cous.” The plan was that I would pick up my car from the school’s auto shop after the final bell rang—when all of the classes were over and the building would be empty. That was “the plan.” Kendra and Griffin had made it in the morning before school started. Griffin had instructed Kendra to text him when I agreed to “the deal.” Which I did. I agreed. But I wasn’t actually planning on going through with it— with the kissing him. Seriously, the more I thought about it,

the more I was convinced Griffin couldn’t care less about kissing me. He probably didn’t even want to kiss me. Even slightly. He just wanted to see me turn red and squirm and stuff. But he would let me off the hook when he heard Aiden and I broke up. My kiss would no longer hold any entertainment value for him. Pathetic as it was, my kiss would no longer be of any consequence to Griffin. At all. Which wasn’t exactly a cheerful thought, but it did put my mind at ease. After all, I was still on a mission to get over Griffin. Kissing him again sure wasn’t going to help with that. It would put me way, way, way behind. Way behind. Keep me aching for him until graduation. Even beyond. I’d spend the rest of my life pining over his kiss. So no way. I wasn’t going to put myself through that. I made Kendra swear she wouldn’t let me be alone with Griffin. When classes were finally over I trudged to the school’s auto shop building at the back of our school, dragging Kendra along. To me, the car accident was kind of her fault —I would have never taken the car if it wasn’t for her and I definitely wouldn’t have stopped at 7-Eleven. So, it was kind of her fault. Then I found out the kiss was too. As we walked along, Kendra told me more about what happened this morning— when she went looking for Zack in auto mechanics and found out he wasn’t at school today. She said Griffin started looking at my car—knew it was mine, and wanted to know why she was driving it. She laughed. “I explained to him you were too shy to be

around a bunch of skeevie mechanics.” I stopped dead in my tracks. That’s not what happened! I wasn’t too “shy.” She had said she wanted to ask Zack alone. And yeah, okay, I admit it, Zack is skeevie, and I had been incredibly relieved I didn’t have to be around when Kendra asked him for a favor. But whoa, I had never actually said aloud Zack was skeevie. I’d never even used the word “skeevie” before in my life. I swallowed, trying to hold back my anger. “You told Griffin I think he is a skeevie auto-mechanic?” I couldn’t believe she said that. She gave a little laugh. “Well, don’t you? But don’t worry, I said it in a playful way.” I shook my head, still trying to fight back my anger. I never even mentioned Griffin to Kendra before, ever. Like I said, I hardly even ever talked to Kendra. How could she decide I thought he was skeevie? Still, by the time we got to the auto building, I was less mad and more nervous. But Griffin smiled when he saw me came in, which got my heart fluttering and my brain vacating. He showed me Mom’s car and I squealed with happiness. It looked as good as new. “Wow!” There was no way that could only cost forty dollars. Even I knew that. “How much do I owe you?” He eyed me a moment, then gazed back at the car. “I got the parts for cheap,” he said. “I know this guy—he owed me a favor. It’s twenty bucks.” I blinked.

“Whoa! Really? Just twenty dollars?” He grinned. “And the matter I spoke to Kendra about.” “… the kiss.” He raised his eyebrows in acquiesce. “The kiss.” “About that.” I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if I didn’t really have to. I mean, she said I thought you were a sceezy mechanic. I don’t think that. I mean, I can see how that would make you want to prove a point or something. But I don’t think that.” A small, playful smile spread on his lips. “I’m glad.” He gave a husky short laugh, the smile still growing. “But I didn’t require it to prove a point.” “Oh.” I bit my lip. Suddenly, butterflies were dancing around in my stomach, reeking havoc. “Um,” I said hesitantly, not sure I wanted to mention it anymore, but feeling I should, because it was my plan—my way not to kiss him. I cleared my throat again, not sure I could talk because his eyes were on me so seductive and hypnotic I could barely breathe. Finally, I just spit it out, “Aiden and I broke up.” Griffin’s smile grew even bigger. “I know.” “Oh.” I was melting, seriously ready to swoon. Kendra rolled her eyes. “Get a room, guys! You two look as though you’re going to jump on each other any second.” That made me snap out of my hormonal daze and remember my plan—my plan to get over Griffin. The

number one thing to do for that was—not kiss him. I swallowed, turning red and gave Kendra a look that I hoped said, “Help me.” I’d told her time and time again—all day—that I didn’t want to kiss The Griff. I didn’t tell her why, so I guess that could be the reason she went on and on all day, texting me about his sexy, “voluptuous” lips. Tempting me. Making me fantasize constantly, continually about closets and hands and whispers and mouths. She didn’t know my plan—that I needed to get over him so I could like a nice, “normal” guy. Not The Grief Master. “I’ll kiss you,” Kendra piped in suddenly. She batted her eyes at Griffin, half-playfully, half-not. And I wasn’t sure if, in some bizarre way, she was trying to help me, or if she just wanted her Kiss-The-Griff fantasy to come true. Either way, she was like that—a big flirt. Some people called her a skank. But I didn’t (because she was my cousin). Griffin tilted his head and Kendra went on with a smug, sly smile. “I mean, it would totally piss off, Zack—totally” She said it like that explained everything, but obviously it didn’t. ‘Cause Griffin quirked an eyebrow at her, seeming to be trying to figure out what she was getting at. “Why would I want to piss off Zack?” he asked, then his lips twitched, like he was restraining a grin. “Zack’s my friend.” Kendra reddened. “Oh. I know but—” She gestured at me, like why would you want to kiss her? “Ally said you only wanted to kiss her to piss off Aiden, and since they already broke up, and she’s not going to tell Aiden anything about it

…” She trailed off since Griffin wasn’t looking at her anymore. Now he was looking at me and no longer seemed interested in anything she had to say. It was like to him she was no longer in the room. He took a step towards me, making me take a step back, which made him take another step towards me. He grinned as I took yet another step back, his gaze hypnotic. Griffin eyed the space I put between us, then took another step towards me until he had me backed into a corner. “I didn’t do this to prove a point or piss anyone off,” he said, his voice soft and husky. He brushed back my hair so gentle and sweet it sent tingles through my body, made me need to moan—but I didn’t, not out loud. I held it in, yearning for more of his gentleness, aching for it, but knowing I should push him away. He whispered near my ear. “I just wanted three more minutes in Heaven.” His words—the way he said them, so soft and seductive, and his warm breath tickling my neck—it was too much for my heart. Seriously, it couldn’t take it—so much excitement. I was ready to keel over. Totally die. Or swoon. Or something. Something ultra dramatic and embarrassing. Griffin’s eyes lingered on me, on my lips, then he looked back at Kendra. She was watching us from across the room like we were her favorite Soap Opera characters come to life, delightfully acting out her favorite scene.

“Can you give us a minute?” Griffin said. “Alone?” Kendra’s eyes cut to mine. I’d given her strict instructions not to let us be alone together. She seemed to be weighing my instructions with the situation—negotiating it all in her head. Finally, she let out a sigh. “You know, I really can’t,” she said. “Ally’s my cousin. She’s like, totally innocent. She doesn’t kiss guys like you.” Griffin’s lips quirked into a grin. “She doesn’t kiss guys like me?” He gave a soft laugh at that, ‘cause well, I had kissed a guy like him—him. And liked it. A lot. And he knew it—he so knew it. Griffin seemed to think it was hilarious that Kendra— my cousin—had no idea we had kissed—not just once, but twice. His eyes danced with amusement but he didn’t rat me out. Instead, he gave me a playful, cock-eyed look, like: Aren’t you full of secrets, but all he said was: “I thought we had a deal.” He said it really low and close to my ear and had me ready to pant, We did! We so did! Plant those sexy, pillow

soft lips on me, baby! But Kendra seemed to have heard Griffin. And she was the one that told him we had a deal—that I would kiss him if he fixed the car. And he held up his end of the deal—he fixed the car—so Kendra sighed. “Look, I know you’ve been working on the car all day and planning something sleazy. So, okay, you have three minutes—exactly three. I’m going to be waiting outside the door—right here, right out

the door. I’ll hear my cousin if she yells—seriously.” She gave him a look like, So you better not try anything. But then she gave me a look like, Of course he’s going to try

something—but hey he’s cute and you agreed to kiss him —and I’d have fun if I were in your shoes. That’s what it seemed she was saying. Kendra smiled—kind of wicked—then she went on aloud, “So, it’s like the game, ‘Three minutes in Heaven’—” She was going to go on talking, give us her spiel, but Griffin interrupted her, cocking an eyebrow. His lips twitched a grin. “Three minutes in heaven?” He said it like a question. Like he had never heard of the game. Only, he looked at me as he said it, his eyes sparkling of mischief. He seemed to just enjoy saying the name, as that’s what he’d been calling me the last couple of months—his “Three Minutes in Heaven.” Kendra tilted her head, like she realized she was missing the joke, but then she went on anyway, “Yeah, Three Minutes in Heaven.” She proceeded to tell us how to play the game—that we had exactly three minutes alone and then she was going to open the door. “But if I hear my cousin yelp, yell or scream,” she said, “the game’s over—right that minute— got it?” Griffin gave a little laugh, his eyes still on me, watching my face turn red though I was sure it was already the color of a tomato. “Got it,” he said.

My heart was about to pounce out of my chest. It was beating so loud I was positive Griffin could hear it. Kendra too, though she left the shop, saying: “I’m going to be right outside the door.” Then she was gone and we were alone—just Griffin and me. His eyes lost their teasing look as his big but gentle hands slid down the sides of my shivering arms. His lips brushed my ear. “You okay?” I swallowed and nodded, though being this close to him, feeling his warm breath on my neck, made me shivery and tremble and practically pass out. “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I was just messing around.” “I know,” I murmured, because I did. This whole time I knew—he was only teasing. It was all a big joke. Only, he had fixed my car and I had made a deal and really, it would be lame to back out of it—joke or not. Big stupid crush or not. “But you earned it,” I said, trying to sound light, funny. Like my kiss really was a big ol’ prize guys strived to win. Griffin looked surprised, then grinned. Without saying anything—not a word—he drew his soft kewpie-doll lips to mine, instantly tantalizing my mouth with his hot hungry kisses … giving me another three minutes in heaven. ***

When Kendra yanked open the door three minutes later, declaring “Times up!” Griffin made a low groaning sound, reluctantly pulling away from me. He leaned his forehead against mine. For a moment there was just our flushed faces, our exploding hearts, our panting as we tried to catch our breath. Only us. But Kendra laughed, yanking me out of my hormoneinduced trance. “Wake up, Cous,” she said, pulling me away from Griffin. “You told me not to let you do this—you want a nice boy, remember? Not The Griff.”

Griffin tilted his head, seeming amused, yet slightly intrigued by this information. He looked from me to my cousin. “What else did she say?” Kendra laughed. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know. Look, stay away from my cousin.” She literally pulled me towards the door. “Ally’s not your type.” I don’t know what Griffin said to that—if he said anything at all. Kendra was finally doing what I had asked, keeping me away from Griffin. Only it was too late. Too late for me to set my heart on Milo or any nice boy. It was totally set on The Griff.

*** On the ride home Kendra wouldn’t shut up about “sparks.” She said she saw them flying between The Griff and me. It made me groan and slump down in my seat because I already knew there were sparks—major sparks. At least on my end. Probably not on Griffin’s though since he was just messing around and had skanky girls fighting over him. But that didn’t help me. It didn’t make my sparks any less sparky just because he didn’t feel them back. It just made them pathetic. “I don’t want to like Griffin,” I whined for the hundredth time. “I want to like … Milo.” “Milo?” Kendra smirked. “Geez, Ally, he’s practically Aiden. Try a new flavor.”

I blinked, having no idea what she was talking about. “What?” She sighed like I lived in a vacuum and it distressed her deeply, then she went into this big analogy about guys being like ice cream and there’s all these different flavors. “Branch out,” she said. “Try something besides vanilla.” I sulked. I liked vanilla. I was comfortable with vanilla. Sure new, exciting flavors were tempting—alluring beyond belief—but I was pretty sure they’d give me nothing but a bellyache. And a toothache. And most definitely a heartache. ‘Cause that’s what The Griff was—a heartache waiting to happen. He didn’t have “girlfriends” he didn’t even have “dates.” He just stirred up a girl’s heart with his seductive eyes and sultry lips, and his hot, sexy singing voice. Then he did to her heart the same thing he did on the hockey rink—Tore. It. Up. I didn’t want a guy like that. I wanted to stay clear of guys like that. I liked sensitive, caring guys—like Aiden. Guys I could hold hands with, write songs with. I missed that so much—writing with Aiden. I sighed, feeling sad anew. Kendra had said Aiden and Milo were the same, but they weren’t. Milo could sing, yeah —he had a nice voice—but he had no interest in writing songs and he kind of made me feel like a freak when I told him how much I liked to write them. I sighed again because those things had nothing to do with why Kendra was looking at me the way she was. She wanted to know why I didn’t embrace sparks. “Griffin and I don’t have anything in common,” I

grumbled. “I have a lot in common with vanilla.” “Like what?” Kendra sort of sneered—but not in a mean way exactly, more in a Get Real way. “Besides Aiden being a girl and you being a girl, what else did you have in common?” Ugh! She was only messing around about Aiden being a girl, I knew that, but I hated people making fun of Aiden— his being emotional and sensitive and everything. Even now that he had broken my heart I was tempted to stick up for him. But I didn’t. I bit my lips together, resisting the urge. Aiden wasn’t mine anymore. He was going to have to fight his own battles. I needed to release him. Instead of defending him, finally I said, “Aiden and I used to write songs together. I loved that.” I slunk down in my seat feeling like I might cry. “I miss that.” I really did. I missed that more than anything—having that connection with a guy, a devoted interest in something we both loved and could work on together, be partners with. Kendra didn’t say anything else. I think she felt sorry for me. *** Only a week after backing Mom’s car into the 7-Eleven dumpster I missed the after school late bus. I don’t know how it happened, exactly. I’d had to stay after school to take a make-up test for French because I had missed class due

to a dentist appointment, but when I finished the make-up test I still had a lot of time left before the late bus was supposed to come, so I went into the library to work on this song I was writing called, “No More Writing Songs Together,” and I guess I lost track of time. When I realized how late it was I scrambled toward the library exit and was almost out the door before I realized I forgot my song-journal behind. I had to turn around and go back for it … and then I missed the bus. The crazy thing was—this wasn’t even my first time to forget the journal. Well, okay, this particular one I hadn’t ever forgotten. But, of course, I’d filled up hundreds of them since I started keeping one. A few years ago I had forgot one in the school cafeteria. Or it might have been in a class. Or the school bus. Actually, I had no idea where I’d left it. But it turned up missing and I searched my house for it for days—weeks. Then it showed up—in the mail! Someone sent it back to me. The freaky thing was though: it didn’t have my name in it—anywhere. So, how did the person know it was mine? I had no idea, but realizing someone had found it—and probably read it—was creepy enough. But somehow they had known it was mine and where I lived, but they didn’t let me know who they were. They sent it back without a note or a return address or anything. It gave me the shivers just thinking about it. But after that, for years, I was always cautious with my notebook—making sure I had it at all times and that I didn’t accidently leave it around anywhere or forget it. But d’oh!

Today I almost did forget it. I came so close it made me shudder. When I realized I missed the late bus, I consoled myself thinking, “Well, at least I’ve got my notebook.” Seriously. I was able to console myself with that—even though the day was cold and drizzly and I had a six-mile walk ahead of me. But I barely made it off the school grounds before Griffin’s red Mustang pulled up beside me. When I saw it, my heart got all fluttery and violent and I almost tripped over my own feet. He opened his window. “Need a ride?” My pulse raced hearing his offer and seeing his adorable, boyish grin. Little did he know but I’d secretly left him a huge cookie again—at his locker during third period this morning and I’d written him another anonymous poem to go with it. This time the poem was about his kiss. But I’d made it really vague again, so he wouldn’t have a clue it was from me. “Um …” I tried ignoring the small voice at the back of my head that was screaming, “Stick with vanilla, Ally! You

need vanilla. This flavor will only give you cavities!” I smiled. “Sure! That would be great!” As I rounded the car to climb into the passenger seat I tried reasoning with the voice. After all, it was cold and rainy out. I’m only accepting the ride to get out of the wet, I told myself. It seemed perfectly reasonable. Right?

As I buckled up my seatbelt the weather took a turn for the worse. It started drizzling harder, practically raining. Like it was a sign—I was supposed to be in Griffin’s car. It made me smile. Only, right then, Griffin reached out to flip on his windshield wipers and right then I remembered: Gummy bears!

Guh! I’d slid a bunch of them under Griffin’s windshield wipers this morning. Why? I don’t know exactly. Just for fun, I guess. Mom had dropped me off at school after my dentist appointment and she had to write me a note so I could be excused for missing French class, so she pulled into the nearest parking spot to write the note and it was right next to Griffin’s Mustang. And so when I got out of Mom’s car and I was right there, next to Griffin’s prized possession, it seemed I had to do something. At first I just had the impulse to write Griffin a quick, anonymous note or draw him a smiley face or something— something to tuck under his windshield wipers. But when I reached into my backpack, what I pulled out was my stash of gummy bears. Seeing the colorful bears gave me an idea. After all, it was a drizzly, moist day and a note would get sad and soggy. But gummy bears—well, I figured gummy bears might get … pretty. You never know. So, giggling a little—‘cause I’m a lunatic—I put a handful (or two) of gummy bears under his windshield

wipers, thinking the outcome might be kind of cool and beautiful. You know, add a little color to Griffin’s life, like his kiss had added to mine. So, see, it was metaphoric. Kind of. But whoa. To be sitting here with Griffin when he turned on his windshield wipers—that was something I hadn’t expected. As he flipped them on I let out a little gasp but then quickly turned it into a cough and tried to look innocent even as a watery rainbow smeared across his windshield. Griffin tilted his head looking confused by the colors the wipers were producing. Each time they flipped a new rainbow spread across his windshield. Griffin grinned, cocking his eyebrows. “What the …?” I bit my lips together to keep a laugh from bursting out. The look on his face—so bewildered—it had me ready to roll on the floor laughing hysterically, but I tried my hardest to keep a straight face and look bewildered too. ‘Cause, well, I didn’t want him to know it was me. I just didn’t. Didn’t want him to know I had been thinking about him, and that I had put candy on his car. Just because it was embarrassing. ‘Cause he already knew—knew I had a huge, stupid crush on him. For a moment I almost let myself believe I was in the clear and got away with my stalker-girl trick. My heart actually started to quiet slightly. Only … Just then I noticed my gummy bears bag was sticking out of my jacket pocket. D’oh! I quickly shoved it deep

inside, trying to do it inconspicuously, hoping Griffin didn’t notice. Only, I’d been a spaz about it—‘cause yikes!—total evidence that I was the rainbow-producing prankster. It had my heart all in an uproar. I snuck a quick sideways glance at Griffin. An amused grin played on his lips, but that could have still just been because of the rainbow on his windshield, so I wasn’t sure if he had noticed the bag in my pocket or not. It was hard to tell with Griffin. He seemed to be a casual, easy-going kind of guy, yet it seemed nothing got past him. Nothing. And it didn’t help that he always had a sardonic smirk on his face—like he knew a funny secret or joke or something and really wanted to share it, only he knew it would be totally inappropriate. He always seemed like that. Like he had a wisecrack on the tip of his tongue. So, it was hard to read him. Anyway, I didn’t want him to talk about the gummy bears, no way. If he said a word about them my cover would be blown. I’d turn all red and start stammering or laughing hysterically. Something. Totally give myself away. So, I couldn’t give him a chance to talk. I flipped open my cell phone and immediately started talking on it, acting as though I’d just gotten a call. “I’m on my way,” I said into the dead phone, and then I added in a grumbling voice, “I missed the bus.” I went on talking more and more, feeling like a lunatic, chatting about the piano recital I’d been in last week; I wanted Griffin to know I was musical too, like him, but mostly I was anxious not to talk about gummy bears.

When I hung up, I smiled up at Griffin, all breezy, like my heart wasn’t about to pounce out of my chest. “Thanks for the ride.” Surprisingly, my voice was calm and peppy, as though I accepted rides with bad-boys everyday and was just doing my usual. “Can you drop me off at my friend Jazz’s? She lives just up the block and to your right. She’s expecting me.” I don’t know why I added that last part. It wasn’t like it was a threat—like Jazz is expecting me and if I don’t show

up within five minutes she’s going to send the police out looking for me. I mean, I wasn’t afraid Griffin was going to abduct me or anything. But then, he was a very tough guy and I didn’t really know him at all. It was almost like I’d accepted a ride with a stranger—one that I’d kissed three times now, and dreamed about constantly. Still, I didn’t know him. All I knew was he was trouble on the ice—and in school. Back in junior high, he and Jake used to get detention practically every day. Still, I was embarrassed that I’d added the “She’s expecting me,” so I quickly tacked on, “We’re, um, doing a project together—for the school play. A fund raiser.” We were doing all that—but not today. Today I was just going to show up at her house unexpectedly—and freak her out if she saw me pull up in Griffin’s car. More likely though, Destiny would see. She lived right across the street and she had this uncanny instinctual radar for Griffin and his car. She would totally freak if she saw me get out of it.

In the short time it took to get to Jazz’s house the sky had cleared and the sun even peeked out of the clouds a little. “It’s supposed to be a nice night,” Griffin said, as though he’d noticed the sun too. My voice cracked. “Yeah, I heard that.” We were at Jazz’s curb now. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leap out of his car or stay and try to have an actual conversation with him. The thought of conversing with The Griff was both terrifying and exciting at the same time. It had me sweating. Griffin seemed to notice—not that I was sweating (I hope) but that I didn’t jump out of his car when he put it into idle. He grinned a little. Then he set his eyes on mine, making me lose my breath. “A bunch of us are going to the river tonight—to hang out. You want to come?” “Oh … I, uh.” I could feel my face turning red, my ears too. This moment was so surreal. I had wanted it so much— him to ask me out—I was practically seeing spots. Still … “I can’t.” I sighed. “I’m not really the hanging out at the river type.” “No. I know,” Griffin said. “But … ” He shook his head. “Well, okay. If you don’t want to.” “No! I do.” I said it again, “I do. But I can’t, because I’m not like that —the party at the river type.” I was going to leave it at that, but then I blathered on, “But if I was, I’d so totally go with you.”

Griffin cocked an eyebrow, looking amused. “Then come.” I shook my head, regretful, but completely resolute. I’d heard stories about the parties at the river. They were for drinking and hooking up. Two of the many, many ( many) things I didn’t do. “I can’t,” I said. He smiled a little. “Okay. It’s just—” His smile grew. “That kiss—” He arched his eyebrows. “I liked it.” I groaned. “Me too.” I darted out of his car and up to Jazz’s house before my heart exploded with want. And before I could change my mind. *** I started to do this “thing.” Everyday. It was like a compulsion. I had to do it. I had to leave something at Griffin’s locker. Usually it was a cookie or a cupcake. Sometimes a poem. Sometimes all three. But always something. And always anonymously. I don’t know why I had to do it. I guess it was simply because I had a twisted, stupid “thing” for The Griff and I couldn’t actually do anything else about it. I mean, I couldn’t date him, of course. But I had all these “feelings” for him and they needed release, so—cookies. Only one day Griffin came up to me at my locker after I

had left an enchilada in a baggie for him. I made it in cooking class, and though, yeah, it was super messy, I had taped a plastic fork to his locker too, so he could, you know, eat it. I’d even hid behind the corner and watched him devour it. It had been so satisfying seeing his adorable, surprised grin when he first came to his locker and found the enchilada and fork. It had given me this huge, dramatic tickle in my stomach. A total rush. I felt that same feeling now, when I shut my locker and there was Griffin, beside me. We hadn’t talked since that day in his car—almost a week and a half ago. Seeing him now, I caught my breath. “Are you leaving me gifts?” he said. “Um …” All flustered and shaking and turning red, I started messing with the combination on my locker, though I had just gotten everything out of it that I needed. “Gifts?” I continued to mess with my lock, turning it one way, then the other, like it was giving me trouble, like I hadn’t opened it on an hourly basis since the beginning of Freshmen year. Only, the weird thing was, it was giving me trouble. I couldn’t remember the combination to save my life. Actually, I couldn’t even remember my own name. All that was in my brain was Griffin’s long-lashed eyes. The way they were staring at me turned my brain to goo. “Yeah, gifts—food and poems and gummy bears.” He moved me out of the way and messed with my lock for a moment, spinning it with purpose, then—whoa—he opened my locker.

My heart spazzed—even more violently than it had been, not just because he had somehow magically known my locker combination (though, whoa!), but his big, warm “Griffin” hands had gently touched my waist as he had moved me aside. His mere touch had my knees weak and my hormones rocketing out of control. “Wait! How’d you do that!” I exclaimed, trying to stay focused on my locker rather than his big, seductive hands. I mean, he knew my locker combination. That was pretty freaky … yet amazing. Griffin grinned but didn’t answer. Instead he arched his eyebrows. “Are you giving me gifts?” “No,” I lied—poorly—not looking at him. I stuck my head in my locker, like I needed to find something important in there—like the Holy Grail. I went on lying—just as poorly. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about—poems?” Griffin laughed softly and pulled one of my “anonymous” poems out of his pocket. It was written on a silver guitar shaped post-it note—exactly like the pad of guitar shaped post-it notes I was holding in my hands. Grrr! Griffin blatantly eyed the pad crumbling in my sweaty grip. He didn’t say anything, though—because well, he didn’t have to. There was the proof right in my clammy hands—I was a weird, strange, stalker girl with a weird, strange crush on him. AND I was a liar. Grrr-rrr! I shoved the post-its into my locker and quietly shut it.

Then I turned back to Griffin. “Maybe I wrote you a poem or two,” I mumbled. “You’re weird.” Griffin smiled when he said it though, like maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. Then he leaned into me, brushing back my hair and whispered low in my ear, “I like weird.” My heart ricocheted off my ribcage. I practically melted into a puddle right there at his feet. Griffin pulled away from me with a lazy grin and handed me a slip of paper. “Here’s my locker combo.” His smile widened. “Put the gifts inside the locker. Just ‘cuz Hailey gets jealous. She’s not my girlfriend or anything—but she’s kind of … territorial. I don’t want her to hurt you or anything.” “Oh,” I said, kind of confused. “Me either.” He laughed at that, and then he was gone, into the crowd of student traffic and I was left trembling and woozy and still wondering, How did he know my locker

combination? ***

How did Griffin know my locker combination? How? The question had me uneasy, but excited at the same time. I wondered about it all through World History, How’d

he get it? It had me thinking about that instead of taking notes for

tomorrow’s test like I was supposed to be doing. But the thing was, it seemed sort of romantic—sort of. Like maybe he had been stalking me while I’d been stalking him. You know, scoping out my locker while I’d been gifting his. The thought made me smile and feel all tingly inside, though I realized this was hopeless. I mean, The Griff and I —we could never “be.” Not a couple. Not anything. But still, it excited me to think that Griffin had cared enough to somehow get my locker combination…. I mean, since he didn’t vandalize it or steal anything from it. The thought had me all dreamy and excited and drawing hearts on my notes. But then, while I was still in history class—still in a cloud, fantasizing about big, tough Griffin sweetly stalking me—I got a text from The Griff himself. Seeing that the text was from him made me gasp and practically pass out. Okay, I admit it, it doesn’t take much to get me into a frenzy—especially not when it comes to anything about Griffin. Anything about him. But still, this was huge. His first time to contact me without me being right in front of his face. I mean, he was somewhere else, but he was obviously thinking about me. How sweet. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get control of my pounding heart and the waves of butterflies wooshing around in my stomach. Finally, I felt I could breathe without losing consciousness, so I peeked at Griffin’s message. This is what it said: It was written on your folder. I blinked. Huh?

I had absolutely no clue what he was talking about. None. For a couple of minutes I sat scratching my head, trying to figure it out, but finally I gave up and texted back: ????? Only seconds later came Griffin’s reply: Your locker combination. It’s written on your folder. Wh? I glanced at my World History folder. Yep. There was my combo right on the front in big, block print. Duh! I face-palmed, muttering to myself. “Geez! I’m an idiot.” I had totally forgotten that yesterday Destiny had scrawled my combination there when I let her borrow my folder full of History notes. She had quickly jotted the combo down because I had wanted her to put the folder back in my locker when she was through. Realizing that now, I almost laughed out loud, though it was tragically sad—pathetic really. I was such a dork! Hoping Griffin was stalking me. Ha! Of course, he wasn’t. I should have totally known better. He wasn’t all pathetic and weird like me. He actually had a life. I scribbled out the numbers, muttering to myself and feeling a sad ach in my heart—a sort of disappointment that I knew I shouldn’t feel. I mean, I’d known Griffin and I couldn’t get together. I knew that. So, I should have been relieved he wasn’t going to be hanging around trying to tempt me. I should have been glad. I texted Griffin: Oh. After I sent it, I figured I should have probably written

more. Halfway through class I added: Thanks. Then I spent the rest of class wondering: How did The

Griff get my phone number? *** So, after that—getting called-out on the locker stalking —you probably think I stopped, but no. Not me. Maybe it was more than just that I had a monster crush on Griffin. Maybe it was deeper—emotionally. I mean, ‘cause I had to give him treats. Had to. It was a compulsion. And it was strange. But whatever the reason—whatever— it was just something I had to do. It made me feel better. Somehow. I mean, Aiden had Fiona. But well, I had something too. My stupid, pathetic crush on Griffin. So, in a way we were even. …. Though of course not really; not even close. Okay, it was sad. But it helped me get through things. Instead of thinking about Aiden getting my cooking-class treats, now I’d think about Griffin getting them. And liking them. And wanting them. It just made me feel … happy. I figured that was good, no matter how twisted it was, because otherwise I’d just feel sad and jealous and down about losing Aiden and having no boyfriend or prospect of one since now I kind of avoided Milo, which was sad because I had kind of led him on for a while, big time.

Now Milo seemed to still have hope we would get together. He’d “accidently” run into me between classes and hang out near my locker. But no. We weren’t going to get together. Griffin’s kiss had blown that plan. Because Griffin’s kiss rocked my world. So now I just needed it to settle back down. And I decided I should wait it out alone. Not get some other poor being involved in my topsy-turvy world full of hopeless longing and yearning. It wasn’t fair to Milo. No matter how much I dreaded being alone— boyfriend-less—I hated leading him on more. Seeing Milo’s hopeful smile whenever he saw me broke my heart, and seeing him now, standing at my locker, made me turn around and walk the other direction. I didn’t really need my pre-calc book anyway, not enough to face Milo’s hopeful smile and wistful eyes. Only, as I turned around, I ran smack into Griffin— plowed right into his rock-solid chest. He grinned as I backed away from him, mumbling apologies and turning red. Griffin’s lips twitched with another grin as his gaze flicked between Milo at my locker and me making a retreat. He raised his eyebrows. “Avoiding your locker, Heaven?” “Um,” I hedged, not quite sure if he knew about the Milo situation or not—but wow, nothing got passed him. He obviously figured out why I’d turned around so abruptly. I didn’t’ t want to get caught in another lie, but I also didn’t want to admit his kiss had made it clear I had absolutely no chance of sparks with Milo—or any other boy. I mean, to him the kiss was nothing—just something to

tease me about. While I tried to think of a clever reason that I turned around so abruptly when I saw Milo (besides needing to use the bathroom or something), Griffin pulled me out of the congested student traffic that was trying to get around us. He backed me up against the nearest wall of lockers and leaned in close. I’m not sure if it was to get out of people’s way or to get a rise out of me. Probably it was a little of both. And it worked. On both counts. Griffin spoke near my ear, close enough that I could feel his warm breath on my neck. “It seems like the cookies and the poems—they’re to tell me that you kind of like me, right?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. Probably because I hadn’t even answered his last question yet. Instead, he leaned in closer. “But I want you to show me, Heaven.” I stepped away from him kind of horrified and ready to run, but he grabbed my arm, not forcefully, gently, and pulled me back to him. He gave a soft laugh. “I didn’t mean that the way it might have sounded.” His lips quirked. “I just meant—don’t run away from me.” He wet his kewpie-doll lips, then brought them closer to my ear. “Maybe we should hang out.” He raised his eyebrows as I looked up at him, my heart racing. Was he asking me on a date? An actual date? I tried to calm my heart down and stay in control as his eyes studied my face, but it was hard. His warm, seductive eyes on me so intently made me want to jump up and down or do acrobats. I couldn’t stand still. Or breathe. “There’s a party at Jake’s house tonight,” Griffin said.

“Want to come?” I let out my breath, finally able to breathe, and shook my head—his question totally bringing me back to reality. We were from two totally different worlds. He was a rough and tough party guy, and I was a girl that stayed away from that kind of boy. As much as I yearned to have him, I knew I couldn’t. “No, I’m sorry,” I said. “I told you—I don’t go to those kind of parties.” Then I ran away from his puzzled dark eyes.

*** I knew I was confusing everybody. Confusing Griffin by liking him but trying not to and confusing poor Milo by trying to like him when I didn’t. I was confusing everyone—mostly myself. A week after running away from Griffin I wrote him a poem that tried to explain my feelings. Only, then I seemed too exposed. So, I changed words in it and made it kind of indecipherable, but beautiful—well, I thought it was beautiful, but then … I was weird. In any case, I stuck it in Griffin’s locker with a tiny, yet perfect, chocolate lava cake. Then later, that very night, I was sitting in my den with Jazz who was spending the night since it was Friday and she had just broken up with her sort-of boyfriend, Hunter,

and she was sad and wanted company. Only we were both really whiny and had eaten too much pizza and ice cream, so it was a very depressing scene—two teenage girls on a Friday night trying to watch Buffy The Vampire reruns but remembering how the last time we watched Buffy we’d been snuggling with our boyfriends—not Ben and Jerry. Sad, sad, sad. “You know who I think is cute?” Jazz groaned, getting herself another handful of popcorn. “Xander?” I tried keeping the sarcasm out of my voice but it was hard. She’d had a crush on the television character since junior high. “Duh.” She rolled her eyes and threw popcorn at me. “But don’t you think Conner Watts, from pre-calc, looks like Xander?” I shrugged, totally changing the subject, just because I was depressed and I wasn’t even really sure who Conner Watts from pre-calc was. “I think I need to get back together with Aiden.” Then, because I’m a good friend, I added. “Yeah, Conner totally looks like Xander—way more than Hunter.” I said this because: one, Hunter was her ex-boyfriend that had her all depressed tonight and two, Hunter looks nothing at all like Xander, so it was pretty safe to assume whoever Conner Watts was looked way more like Xander than Hunter who is stocky and has blond hair and blue eyes. Raggedy Andy looks more like Xander than Hunter. Then, because Jazz is a good friend, she said, “Why do you think you should get back together with Aiden?”

So, I explained to her the whole, big thing about Griffin and Milo, and how I’d confused them both. “Really? Griffin asked you out?” she sounded amazed. “On a date?” “No,” I moaned. “Of course not a date—Griffin doesn’t ‘date’ girls. He invited me to ‘hang out’ with him at Jake’s party. He invited me to hang out.” Jazz laughed. “That’s a date to The Griff.” She laughed even harder, like it was hilarious. “The Griff asked you on a date.” Obviously, she was trying to picture us together. It made her laugh even harder. Griffin and I—we were so different. She was right; it was funny. Only depressing too. Because I wanted him. Wanted him bad. I slunk down in my chair, ready to have a good mope; only just then I got a text. It was from Kendra, my cousin. She wrote: Your friend Destiny is drunk off her butt. Then Kendra sent me a picture of Destiny making-out with some guy at a party. Seeing it made me sort of sick. Destiny doesn’t drink—well, she didn’t used to. I got the address for the party and told Jazz we needed to go get Destiny. But wouldn’t you know it—once we got to the party, there was Conner Watts from pre-calc. And you know what? He did look a lot like Xander. Especially compared to Hunter. Conner smiled at Jazz from across the crowded, noisy room as soon as he saw us come through the front door. Jazz smiled back and that was it. He came over and they were all, “Wow, hi!” and “I was hoping you would be here!”

and like that, Jazz seemed to forget Hunter ever existed. Or that I did. So, I went to find Destiny and I found her—in the kitchen … With Griffin. Griffin! She was sitting on his lap at the kitchen table while he was playing poker with three guys from the hockey team. She was sitting on Griffin’s lap. Playing with his hair. No one noticed that I had come into the kitchen—not Destiny, who had her back to me, or Griffin, or the guys, or anyone. And I just stood there, frozen in the kitchen doorway, my heart … hurting. Finally, Griffin glanced up from his cards and over to me, then he did a double take. “Heaven!” he said with a grin, moving his head away from Destiny’s roving hands. (FYI, he’d started calling me “Heaven” lately. Short for “My Three Minutes in Heaven”—I assumed, which I had totally loved, until now. Now I totally loathed it and him and … everything. Was he the guy in the picture Kendra had sent me?—the guy macking with poor, drunk Destiny? I needed to look at the picture again—scrutinize it—but at the moment I was too busy glaring at Griffin to do anything but stand there—shocked and appalled and … hurt.) Griffin’s grin grew as he dodged Destiny’s hands again. “I thought you don’t go to parties.”

“I don’t,” I said through gritted teeth. “I came to get her.” Then I added with my teeth still clinched, ‘cause he was obviously a bad influence, and a bad person, “She doesn’t drink.” Griffin arched his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure she did tonight.” His friends all laughed, like she’d been doing embarrassing … drunk things. Grrr! I stomped over and tried pulling Destiny from Griffin. “Come on, Destiny!” “No!” She nuzzled her face in Griffin’s neck. “You smell good,” she mumbled to him. Then she put her arms around him tight, trying to make him snuggle with her—kind of like she was always saying she would do if she ever got the chance. I groaned. Griffin laughed at that—my groan. “I don’t think she can walk,” he said. “I’ll carry her.” I really didn’t want that, but I didn’t want any of this—my friend drunk and fawning on a guy—the hockey team watching and laughing. And sadly, I knew Destiny must have done something hugely embarrassing for Kendra to bother texting me. I mean, Kendra got drunk every weekend. To her it was just … life. Griffin carried Destiny out to the car over his shoulder, fireman style. Then he plunked her in the backseat, leaning over her, doing—something. I couldn’t see what. It had me slightly alarmed. I mean, what was he doing? And was he

the guy in the photo Kendra had sent me? The guy taking advantage of my drunk friend? “Stay away from her!” I growled. Griffin leaned back, showing me his upraised hands with an amused smirk. “I was just buckling her in.” I reddened, feeling incredibly stupid. But well, I had no idea if he was drunk or totally sober or what. All I knew was, he’d had my drunk friend in his lap and then he was leaning over her in my car. “Sorry,” I mumbled, then added, “Look, can you just stay away from my friends?” I didn’t just mean Destiny. I meant Kendra too. Lately she’d been all flirty with him, and when we had passed her just now in the party she had given Griffin a big, drunk kiss, slurring, “I love those lips—love them!” Ugh! Griffin grinned, amused. “Yeah, I can leave them alone.” He quirked his eyebrows. “But can they leave me alone?” He had a point. I sighed, wishing he didn’t look so adorable when he said that, or so gorgeous out here in the dark with the moon shinning on him. My stupid heart was suddenly beating all I want him I want him. I was glad when I suddenly got a distraction, something to make me take my eyes off his. It was a text from Jazz: Conner’s going to give me a ride home. That was all it said. I squeezed my eyes shut, happy for her, of course,

because she found her very own Xander and was already on her way to being over stupid Hunter (jerk!), but also I was kind of pissed because, Hello! Our friend was drunk and macking random guys! But then Jazz texted: You got Destiny alright, right? Or do you need my help? I let out a breath, not mad anymore. I got it covered, I wrote. Have fun! I shut my phone and then looked up and found Griffin watching me. The way his eyes looked—it was as though he’d been gazing at me a long time. It did funny things to my heart—got it all throbbing and aching. My legs were suddenly rubber, like I was going to topple over. Griffin smiled, backing me against the car. “I got your poem.” His voice was husky. “Well, I didn’t really get it.” Gently, his fingers slid through my hair, raking out a piece of popcorn. “But I liked it.” He leaned in close. So close I could feel his warm breath on my neck. “I like you, Heaven.” Ohhhh, my heart! It was going to pounce right out of my chest. Griffin drew his face near mine. My breath caught. Though I wanted it so bad—his kiss—so bad, with all my heart—I knew there were all kinds of reasons I shouldn’t let him. But only one flashed through my brain. It kept flashing —that picture of Destiny. The one Kendra had sent. Drunk Destiny totally making-out with some guy. It flashed in my

brain over and over, and that was enough. More than enough. I didn’t want some sleazy guy kissing me that would make-out with a drunk girl he’d never even talked to before. I pushed Griffin away from me, hard—my heart in complete chaos. I clicked open my cell phone and shoved the picture of Destiny macking some guy in Griffin’s face. “Is this you?” Griffin took the phone from me and studied the picture for the briefest of moments. Then he smirked. “Does it look like me?” I snatched my phone back and actually looked at the picture—studied it. No. It didn’t. At all. You couldn’t actually see the guy’s face, but it definitely wasn’t Griffin. The guy was skinny and … not Griffin. “Oh.” My cheeks burned—I’m a dork! “Well … that’s good.” I stuttered a bit, then said super quick, “Well, I’ve got to go.” I hopped into my car feeling like an idiot and I just wanted to get away so I could go home and crawl under a rock, but Griffin eyed all the cars that had parked behind me in the driveway. “It’s kind of a tight get-away,” he said through my open window. “Want me to back you out?” He was probably remembering my bumper that he’d had to fix not too long ago—probably remembered that I’d backed into a dumpster. Grrr! “I can do it,” I muttered. Griffin didn’t say anything, just stepped back. Then he

silently watched me stress with the steering wheel, backing up a tiny nudge, then having to pull forward and start again. I had to keep doing that, tiny bit forward, tiny bit back. I wasn’t really making any progress. In fact, I was making zero progress. Okay, I’m not the world’s best driver. I admit that. I don’t drive much as I don’t have my own car and hardly ever get to use Mom’s. Still, normally—I swear—I wouldn’t have had so much trouble. But I was all flustered having an audience, especially because the audience was Griffin. Griffin! I could barely walk straight when he was around. But drive? Apparently it was impossible. Griffin watched me with his chin cupped in his hand, covering his mouth, most likely hiding a huge grin. Finally, he leaned in my open window. “Crank your wheel all the way.” I started cranking. He bit back a laugh and gave me his head-tilt. “The other way.” Guh! My face burning, I made no comment, just shoved the steering wheel hard the other direction and cranked with all my might. Griffin flinched his jaw and stepped back, watching me stress a bit longer, then returned to the window. “Want me to do it?” I cocked my head totally wanting to say yes, only there was a part of me that didn’t want to back down. I wanted to show Griffin I could drive. But it seemed kind of too late for

that. Plus, I could hear Destiny making groaning sounds in between her snoring. I was afraid any second she was going to barf—in Mom’s car. I needed to get home. Now. Griffin grinned when I took forever to answer. “Look,” his lips twitched at the corners, “it would be hard for anyone. You’re packed in here really tight.” I sighed and scooted over. Griffin grinned but didn’t say anything. He simply slid into the driver’s seat and snaked the car out of the long, narrow driveway. He did it super easy and quick as though it was cake. When we were safely out on the street, he put the car in neutral and reached for me. My heart kicked up a notch. I was so going to let him kiss me this time; I would just go with my heart and enjoy a little heaven. My entire body filled with tingles. I closed my eyes and leaned in for it. But then … Griffin didn’t kiss me. Instead, he gently brushed another piece of popcorn out of my hair. “Good night, Heaven,” he said. He opened the car door, and then he was gone. He went back into the party and I was left with snoring Destiny and a pounding heart. *** All that night I thought about Griffin—about our near kiss. It had me tossing and turning and feeling all agitated. There was this one scene from the night—this perfect

moment. It kept playing over and over in my head. When Griffin brought his mouth down to my ear. “I didn’t really get your poem … but I liked it.” His leaning in even closer. “I like you, Heaven.”

I like you, Heaven. I like you, Heaven. I like you, Heaven. Oh! There was no way I could sleep, never again. I got out of bed and started writing in my ratty old songjournal. I wrote about Griffinan>!—I kept thinking about that scene. Of course he hadn’t gotten my poem. I had made it impossible to “get.” I had done that on purpose. But he had liked it. He liked me! The thought had me all tingly. For a moment. Until I started thinking about later—in my car. When he didn’t even try to kiss me. He had just pulled that stupid piece of popcorn out of my hair and then … left. Went back into the party to give his heart-stopping, seductive pick-up lines to some other girl. An easier girl. Ugh! I was such a sap. I crawled into bed and immediately started crying. I was so screwed—liking a guy that I could never even date.

*** The next day I read Aiden’s newest text. It just said,

Ally, are you ever going to talk to me? When I’d been with Aiden I’d been stable, comfortable. My stomach didn’t feel all fluttery or violent or in knots all the time. It just felt … normal. I wanted to feel that again. I needed to feel it. Milo was too boring and Griffin was too exciting but Aiden?—Aiden was just right. Only, ugh! Despite Aiden’s constant texts he seemed to be with Fiona now. Sure, I’d catch him looking at me with longing—but did that actually mean anything? I wasn’t sure. I mean, he hadn’t really tried to woo me back, at all. I’d kept waiting and waiting. But no. Nothing. He never did. Just his stupid texts. “Maybe you just shouldn’t have a boyfriend for a while,” Jazz said the next day when I discussed how I was contemplating getting back together with Aiden while she gushed about Conner Watts. Deep down I knew she was probably right, I knew that. But the thing was I had this ache inside me, this need. Okay actually, in reality the need was Griffin. My heart wanted him, ached for him. But my heart was so messed up! It was stupid. I sighed, unable to tell her that—explain to her that the real reason I wanted Aiden back—the real, true reason— was just so I could stop fantasizing about Griffin. I didn’t like fantasizing about The Griff. I hated it. It left me so unsettled, made me want to scream or cry or rip out my hair. I mean, it was so incredibly pointless to yearn for him. Because I couldn’t have him—even if he somehow miraculously

wanted me. Which, of course, he didn’t. Not really. It was just a game to him. Seeing how far he could stir “School Girl.” Ugh. But if I had Aiden—if we got back together—maybe things could go back to the way they were. Maybe I could feel happy and satisfied with my life again. Like I used to feel … before Griffin’s kiss.

*** Monday morning I got another text from Aiden. It said: Can we talk? I thought about it a long time, then during World History I finally wrote back: Sure. After School? Aiden texted back almost immediately. Okay! Meet me outside the gym at 3:00. Seeing the words—from Aiden—dear, sweet Aiden— almost made me cry. It was so easy. Why hadn’t I done this earlier? We could get back together and write songs together again—have things go back to the way they were. Be happy and comfortable and settled. That was totally my plan. But then a weird thing happened. In French class, Miss Feefee (that wasn’t her real name—it was Mrs. Fergusson —but we all called her Miss Feefee), sent me and a few other students from our class to an early study hall as we

had aced a test that the rest of the class needed to retake. She didn’t just let us stay in the class, though, because she needed our seats for some other students from other classes that also needed to retake the test. So … we had to go to study hall. But that’s not the weird thing. The weird thing was, when I got to study hall, there was Griffin. Seeing him made me turn all red and act stupid. I lunged into the nearest empty seat and grabbed a book out of my backpack and stared at it like I was totally engrossed in it—like it was the most fascinating read of my entire life. But really, I wasn’t even sure what the book was—a novel, math? I had no clue. My brain was totally gone. All I knew was, I could feel Griffin’s eyes on me—or anyway, I imagined I could. For all I really knew, he didn’t even know I was in the room. That was possible. But I didn’t chance it. I didn’t look up. Not until Mrs. Harris, the study hall teacher, said in a loud, booming voice, “Griffin, Griffin, Griffin.” She said it like tsk, tsk, tsk. I looked up, my stomach all stirring and twisting, wondering why she was saying his name. I knew she really didn’t know this, but the way she said it—all tsk, tsk, tsk—to me it was like she knew. Knew that my heart was ready to explode just because he was in the room, that all it took these days to turn me into a brainless bag of hormones was his presence. But no, she didn’t know. She took Griffin’s cell phone from him and studied it. Then—shock!—she walked across the classroom—to me!

She placed his iPhone on my desk saying, “You can choose whether to delete that or not—but don’t give the phone back to ‘The Griff’ until after class.” Then she announced loudly to the rest of the room, “This is ‘Study Hall’ people! You’re supposed to be studying—not practicing your candid photography.”

Candid … photography? My heart was suddenly beating all crazy and wild, even more so than before. What was she talking about? I gazed down at Griffin’s cell phone and gasped, and my stomach did these weird loop-d-loops things. ‘Cause of what was on his phone. It was a picture. Of me! Griffin had obviously just taken it—like a minute before Mrs. Harris caught him. I was staring down at my book (it was Biology), and my face was red as a beet, but I actually looked like I was reading it and totally into it. And the weird thing was, I looked … pretty. While I was staring at the picture—which I’d probably been doing a long, long time—a text message came on Griffin’s phone. Weird. It was from Jake. Hm. I was pretty sure I’d seen Jake when I first came into the classroom before I’d noticed Griffin. Those moments were all a frenzied blur, but still I was pretty sure … which meant Jake was here in the room and knew I had Griffin’s phone. Puzzled, I glanced up and then sucked in my breath.

Griffin smiled at me from across the room. He was sitting right next to Jake with a cell phone in his hands— apparently Jake’s. The Griff gestured at the phone and eased back in his seat, watching me. I gave him a sideways glance, then read the text since that seemed to be what he wanted. Don’t delete the picture. Purrrrr. Seeing the message gave me tingles and made me all happy and warm inside. I guess it was because I liked the picture too. I smiled, feeling toasty good that he had taken the picture and wanted to keep it. So, of course I didn’t delete it. Not that I would have anyway, unless I looked super ugly in it. Swallowing up some courage I dared to text back: Can I look at your other pictures? A second later Griffin answered: No. That was all it said. Just that one word. No. Seeing it made my stomach knot a little though, and I wasn’t all happy and toasty warm anymore. In fact, now I was anxious and depressed. What other kind of pictures did he have on the phone? Pictures of Hailey? And girls like Hailey? Probably. The thought depressed me. And made me want to hurry and get back together with Aiden. Stop liking Griffin who liked girls like Hailey and made me feel all out of control and hopeless. When class was over Griffin met me at the door to retrieve his phone—and that was probably the only reason he waited for me. Seriously, the only reason. I mean, I did

all these kooky things—making him treats, leaving them in his locker, doodling his name all over my homework assignments, writing poems about him. The list went on and on. And I thought about him all the time, constantly. But it seemed he only thought of me when I was right there—in front of his face. The rest of the time it was exactly like the saying: Out of sight, out of mind. I’d already known that’s the way he was, but I was feeling it anew. When I wasn’t in his sight, I was completely out of his mind. And that’s why he took the picture of me, because I was right there. And why he gave me a ride home that day, because I was right there. And why he kissed me at that party, because I was right there. But he didn’t actually ever think about me when I wasn’t “right there.” Or try to get to know me. He wasn’t like that—he was a “love the one you’re with” kind of guy. And that sucked. Because I wanted him to like me. Really like me. Me, me, me. Not just any girl that was around. And not just to be a tease. Ugh. I wanted him to really like me. And it wasn’t fair. Because I knew he didn’t. Even though he had said he did the other night—and no matter how hard I longed to believe him I knew I shouldn’t. Because I knew he didn’t. Not really and truly. “Why’d you take the picture of me?” I asked as I handed him his phone. I asked it all defiant and challenging since I was feeling—well, defiant and challenging. Seriously. I was all wound up and ready to throw things. Griffin grinned, talking all husky as he headed to his

next class, walking backwards so he could face me. “I told you. I like you, Heaven.” Hah! He was so full of it. A smooth-talker, all seductive and heart-melting. Grr! It was a game to him, though—I knew that—a total game. But still, my heart throbbed and yearned anyway. Totally purred. I probably turned a thousand shades of pink, probably, because Griffin’s lips twitched with amusement as he continued to walk backwards watching me with his eyes trained on mine. But once he finally turned around, I snapped out of my hormone-induced daze, daring to call after him, “You don’t even know me.” Griffin turned back to me and grinned. “Don’t I?” Then he disappeared into the crowd of student traffic and I was left wondering what he meant by that. The way he said it, he seemed so—I don’t know—humored? Mischievous? Something. Like he knew me better than I thought. Okay, probably he was just doing his usual— messing around. But I spent the whole next class period— the whole hour—hoping I was wrong earlier. That maybe Griffin did think about me sometimes. And maybe he knew me … sort of. It didn’t seem possible. But I wanted it to be. ***

B y lunch time I was doing my best to forget about Griffin again. He was all wrong for me. He was a “bad boy.” And a tease. And that’s all he was doing with my heart— teasing it. I saw him on my way to the cafeteria, though he didn’t see me. He was leaving campus with Hailey and a bunch of Hailey wanna-bees. And Jake. Big, mean Jake. So …. no. No, no, no. He just wasn’t my type, not at all. I had to get that through to my head once and for all. Though really, my head got it. It did. It was my heart that was having trouble. It was all mushy and hot for Griffin. I want Aiden, I want Aiden, I want Aiden! That’s what I kept trying to tell myself all through lunch as I listened to Jazz gush about the school dance this Friday. She was going with Conner and totally psyched about it—which was strange because Jazz loathed school dances, hated them. Obviously she really, really liked Conner to get so excited about the dance. While she talked, I kept thinking: Maybe I’ll go to the dance with Aiden. The idea made me happy. I loved school dances and Aiden and I had always gone together. They were fun and I was on the dance committee. Until today I’d been dreading Friday’s dance, knowing I’d have to help with the preparations but probably wouldn’t be going to the dance itself. The thought was depressing. But going to the dance with Aiden—I knew it would be fun, like old times. Suddenly, I was all perky and happy. Until Destiny woke me out of my Aiden plans. She asked almost certain-like, “You’re going to the dance with

Milo, right?” “Huh? Oh.” I cleared my throat. I hadn’t told her or Jazz that I had plans to meet with Aiden after school. I got the feeling they wouldn’t approve. Actually, I knew they wouldn’t. They thought Aiden and I should call it quits for good and move on. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that Aiden seemed to have actually moved on. But whatever. They didn’t know how Aiden looked at me sometimes—like he really, really wanted me back. And they didn’t know about some of his texts. They knew about most, but not about all. “Um, no,” I said. “I’m not going to the dance with Milo. He didn’t ask me.” “You mean not yet,” Destiny said. “I have him in my history class. He’s so sweet and he has it for you bad, Ally. And you used to act like you liked him. He’s still hoping you do.” She shook her head, like the situation was sad and she felt sorry for him. “He’s going to ask you, Ally. I guarantee it—he’ll ask you to the dance.” I groaned. “I hope he doesn’t.” She tilted her head at me, like I was an alien creature from another planet. “He’s really cute, Ally. And so is Griffin —what’s your problem?” I blinked. “Griffin? What does he have to do with this?” Destiny made a huffing sound and got up from the table. “I’m done eating,” she said all snippety. “I’m going to go make-up a test.” I watched her march off, totally baffled. She seemed

mad. “What’s up with her?” Jazz sighed. “I told her about Griffin asking you out the other day.” My stomach knotted. “He didn’t ask me out. He just asked me to hang out. There’s a total difference. Griffin’s not interested in me—he’s just playing around.” Jazz shrugged. “Well, Destiny wants him to play with her.” I texted Destiny. I’m sorry, I wrote. Really. But Griffin doesn’t like me. Not for real. She didn’t text me back until lunch was over. But then she texted this big, long essay thing saying she was sorry that she was jealous of me, and that she wanted me to be happy, and that she thought I should go for Griffin. I read the message like three hundred times, then read it again. She was jealous of me? I’d had no idea. As far as I knew, no one had ever been jealous of me before in my life. Well, except maybe Fiona. She had been jealous that I had Aiden. But then … she got him. So, I didn’t really like thinking that someone was jealous of me, especially not one of my very best friends. It had my stomach in knots. I didn’t know how to explain to her that she didn’t have to worry about Griffin. That he wasn’t right for either of us. That we were both better off to stay clear of him. I didn’t bother to lecture her about that, because well … what could I say? I was having trouble listening to the words myself—I wasn’t going to go spouting them.

I waited for Destiny after her Spanish class. “You don’t need to be jealous of me,” I told her. “I’m such a mess.” I explained to her that I was trying not to like Griffin, then confessed I was planning to get back together with Aiden— maybe. Destiny shook her head. “Don’t go back to Aiden,” she said. “You guys used to be a cute couple—but really, it seems like you’ve both moved on. Really, Ally.” When I didn’t say anything, she bit her lip, then went on, hesitantly. “Look, okay? You’re telling me Griffin is all wrong for you—so I don’t want to give you bad advise, but if I were you, I’d totally, totally go for Griffin.” I bit the inside of my cheek, already knowing that. She didn’t need to be me; she had gone after Griffin—she’d sat in his lap, and played with his hair, and sniffed his neck. Destiny paused, turning a little pink as she went on with the rest of her spiel. “That night at Jake’s party Griffin kept talking about you.” She was beet red now. “I remember being all drunk and he pulled me away from—from some guy that was macking on me. He said, ‘That’s Ally Grange’s little friend, leave her alone.’ He said that! And then he like, baby-sat me the rest of the night … until you came.” I bit the inside of my cheek harder, not knowing what to say to that. I was touched beyond words that Griffin did that. It was sweet and had me feeling all gooey inside. “I didn’t know that,” I finally managed to choke out. Destiny was still so red. She rolled her eyes. “I know. I was too embarrassed to tell you—and hurt. It was

embarrassing!” She looked down at the ground and then into my eyes. “That night was so humiliating! I didn’t want to talk about it—I wanted to forget it ever happened.” She gave me a wan smile. “Well, I better get to class. Good luck with whatever guy you go with.” She said the last part over her shoulder as she was walking away and she said it like she was still jealous of me. Like I should be glad I was having all these guy problems, like it was a big party she wished she could be invited to. She had no clue. But she was my good friend, so her words and wistfulness tugged at my heart. “Destiny!” I chased after her and gave her a hug. *** In cooking class we made pumpkin cookies with chocolate chips and I ended up putting mine into two separate baggies. One bag for Aiden … the other for Griffin. I had promised myself all through class I would give them all to Aiden. Swore I’d be strong and swear off Griffin for good. But then, all through class, I kept thinking about Griffin’s text message in study hall, Don’t delete the picture, and his adorable grin when he had said, “I like you, Heaven.” Purrrrrr.

My heart melted into a puddle. Still, at the last moment, I reconsidered and gave each of the guys one less cookie, so I could fill up a third baggie —for Destiny. I mean, she was jealous of me. Then: in between fifth and sixth period, I was almost to Griffin’s locker, cookie in hand, when I saw him standing a tiny ways off with Hailey. He was watching me with an intrigued grin playing on his lips. Busted! Grr! I turned around and was going to walk the other direction, like he misunderstood. Like, silly him, thinking I was going to his locker with a pumpkin cookie when really I was just walking aimlessly through the school halls. But then I heard Griffin’s rough voice call out, “Heaven!” I stopped, frozen. But I didn’t turn around. I just stood there, not moving, holding my breath. Griffin sauntered over to me, his smile not full of intrigue anymore—it was totally amused now, highly entertained. He leaned against the nearest row of lockers, his eyes dancing. “Is the cookie for me?” “Cookie?” I said it like what are you talking about? Which was, you know, stupid, since I was holding a cookie. But I smiled when I said it, ‘cause he was smiling so big and I couldn’t help it—I smiled back. I let out a breath of resignation. “Yes, the cookie’s for you.” I handed it to him feeling sort of brave. I mean, he

already knew I was a weird stalker fan-girl. Why try to hide it? “Is it totally dumb that I give you cookies?” Then, before he could answer, I added, “I just—have a weird crush on you.” His smile grew. “So, the cookies do mean you like me.” I nodded, unable to say anything. He stroked his chin, still smiling. “You know, there’s other ways to show me you like me.” I stepped away from him, unnerved and unhinged and every other “un” word I could think of. He laughed a little. “I mean, don’t run away from me.” His lips twitched. “That would be a start.” He watched my eyes, his glistening as he studied my reaction, then he leaned in close to me again. “A bunch of us are going to hang out at Jake’s tonight,” he said. “His parents are gone. We’re going to have a party.” Griffin raised his eyebrows. “You want to come?” My heart sank. I shook my head. Talking with him was always such a roller coaster ride, bringing me up so high I was practically flying, then crashing me back down to reality. We couldn’t date. We couldn’t even “hang out.” We were too different. He was a party guy, a “bad boy.” I didn’t want a bad boy—at least I didn’t want to want one. I wanted a boy that would take me on dates and to dances, not parties where he’d get loaded and we’d make out in a van. (I heard people do that at Jake’s parties. The girls in my pre-calc class were always talking about them.) It

didn’t sound like fun to me. That kind of stuff wasn’t what I wanted. It was exactly what I didn’t want. “I’m going to get back together with Aiden,” I told Griffin. Then I ran from him, into the mob of students rushing to get to their classes. For some stupid reason, I was almost crying. *** During sixth I got a text message from this horrible, bossy cheerleader named Bianca that I pretty much hated. Unfortunately, she was kind of my “boss” at the moment as she was head of the dance committee. She texted, “We’re decorating the gym for the dance Friday right after school. Expect to stay until six or later. Tons of work to do!” Ugh! I groaned, dreading the thought of working with her. But then I smiled, thinking about the dance itself—that I might be going with Aiden. The thought cheered me up since lately I’d been worried I might not be going to the dance at all. I tried to concentrate on that—the dance—to get my mind off Griffin. But it didn’t work. I couldn’t get Griffin out of my head, the way he had looked into my eyes as he said, “There’s other ways to show me you like me.”

Ugh! Why did The Griff—a guy totally, totally wrong for me—have to be so hot? And tempting? It wasn’t fair— crushing on a bad boy. Stupid! There were other ways he could show he liked me too —I mean, besides flirting with me whenever I happened to come within his radar. That was the only time he even gave me a second thought—when I was right in front of his face. Agitated, I read Aiden’s text from this morning again— again and again—trying to get Griffin’s eyes and lips and hotness out of my head. Aiden is right for me, I told myself. He’s what I need

right now—he soothes my heart. We should definitely get back together. *** My heart was all agitated as I waited outside the gym for Aiden after school. I was sweaty and shivery, like maybe I was getting sick. But I knew it wasn’t really that. It was just nerves. I paced back and forth, back and forth, wondering how this was going to go. Would we really get back together? Could things really go back to the way they were? I wanted that. I hated the way I’d been lately—on a Griffin-induced roller coaster. I wanted off. Now. I hated feeling all topsyturvy all the time and full of strange wantings and yearnings: longing for a boy I could never have. It was depressing and

pathetic. I wanted to go back to feeling peaceful and content with my life—like I used to feel with Aiden. Only, I didn’t feel peaceful or content now, waiting for him. I felt cagey and restless and … sweaty. It was weird being so worked up about seeing Aiden—Aiden who I had dated for over two years. But I was worked up. So worked up that when the gym door flew open, I sprang to alert. But it wasn’t Aiden that came through the door. It was … Griffin. When he saw me, he did a double take. “Heaven,” he said with a surprised smirk, like I’d been standing here waiting for him—doing more stalking—but then he turned sort of serious. “Hey, I have something for you.”

Oh? I stood frozen and breathless as he unzipped his backpack. Griffin had something for me? The thought had my heart racing because usually it was the other way around—no, scratch that—it was always the other way around. I always had stuff for him—always, always, always. Cookies, enchiladas, poems, gummy bears. But he had never, ever, ever given me anything, ever. Or gone out of his way to let me know he even thought of me—other than, yeah, when I was right in front of his face. What could he possibly have for me? Just that he had something for me filled my entire being with excitement. But I tried to calm myself down and be reasonable, telling

myself it would probably be something silly. Something in keeping with “Macho Guy-ness.” Or “hockey humor.” Something rough and tough and totally not romantic. Still … I was excited. Too excited. As I waited, curious and flushing, I steeled myself to be let down. Because this was Griffin. The Grief-Master. The school Bad Boy. He’d never even had a girlfriend, ever—because he just liked to “hang out.” Not date or be romantic … or do anything sweet. He was the total opposite of Aiden. I needed to remember that—I wanted a sweet, sensitive guy I could write songs with. I wanted Aiden, not Griffin. As I tried to remember all this, I watched Griffin rummage through his backpack, watched his dark hair fall over his gorgeous brown eyes as he explained, “I was going to give this to you at a better time. I mean, that’s what I’d thought when I got it—that I’d give it to you for some sort of ‘occasion.’ But I guess not.” Finally, Griffin pulled out what he’d been looking for from his backpack. I blinked, tilting my head. It was a book. A gorgeous, fancy, elegant book. He held it out to me. Only, I didn’t take it. I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. Griffin bought me … that? When I just stood there staring at it, my heart ready to explode, Griffin grinned. “Here,” he said. “It’s for you.” My brain was in a confused daze, but I guess I took the book. I must have. It was in my hands. I sucked in my breath. “Wow,” I murmured. My heart leapt up to my throat as I leafed through the elegant pages. Each page was empty—blank.

“It’s a journal,” Griffin said. “I saw it and it made me think of you.” I swallowed, tears welling in my eyes. This beautiful journal made him think of … me? It was so sweet and touching. I was seriously going to start bawling any second. He did know me. Griffin knew me! But … how? “Back—freshman year,” Griffin said as though I’d asked the question aloud, “you had geometry with Mr. Mohammed the hour before me. You sat in the same seat as me.” He paused a moment and I could feel his eyes on mine, but I couldn’t look up at him. Instead, I stared at the beautiful journal, trying to hold back my tears. Finally, Griffin went on. “One day you left a ratty notebook on the desk. It was full of … stuff. Music and poems and … thoughts.” “It was a journal,” he said. My heart stopped. Heat rushed through my body. “It was you,” I whispered in awe. “You mailed my notebook back to me.” “Yeah.” He hesitated. “I didn’t know what else to do with it. It didn’t seem like I should leave it there—I mean, it had personal stuff in it.” Yeah, no kidding, I thought, cringing. But I didn’t say it aloud. I couldn’t say anything because I was going to cry. Griffin gave a soft laugh, the sound musical to my ears. “I couldn’t give it to you,” he said. “I tried a couple of times, but every time you saw me coming towards you, you’d run

the other way.” My cheeks burned. Mostly because I knew it was true. Griffin was a big guy. He used to scare me—even back in junior high when I had my other crush on him—my junior high crush. Even then, I was afraid of him. Even before he became The Grief-Master, Terror of the Hockey Rink . Because in junior high he’d been known as a “troublemaker” and trouble-makers scared me. They still did. “Anyway,” Griffin shrugged like no big deal, “finally I just mailed it to you.” I darted my eyes to him, then back to the book. “Did you read it?” Griffin hesitated. “Yeah. A little bit—when I first found it —when I was trying to figure out what it was.” Griffin gently cupped my chin in his hands, making me look up at him into his seductive brown eyes. For once they weren’t at all teasing. They were totally serious. “I liked what I read.” I swallowed and pulled away from him. Not out of anger, but just because I needed to wipe my eyes and try to catch my breath. I leaned against the wall behind me, my knees weak from his words and the way he said them—all honest and sincere. They had me ready to melt into a puddle. My heart was a puddle—all soft and mushy and throbbing. Oh, this is bad, I thought with alarm. This is very, very bad. With all my might, I tried to focus on my resolve, remember it. Griffin was a bad boy, all wrong for me. I tried,

tried, tried reminding myself that I wanted Aiden back— nice, sweet Aiden that I could write songs with and go to dances with—not Griffin who liked to “hang out” and mess with girls’ hearts, get them all into a frenzy just for fun. Ally, be strong , I told myself. Be strong, be strong, be strong. Only, Griffin went on talking, his eyes intently on me. “But I noticed you before that,” he said. “In junior high you’d be in the school’s library after school a lot and I’d be in there—every day.” He gave a soft laugh. “That’s where detention used to be. Anyway, I’d see you in there looking all serious, scribbling away in that notebook and I’d wonder, ‘What could she be writing?’ Sometimes you looked so intense, and other times all happy. But you were always so into it. It was like you were in your own little world—like you didn’t know anyone else was around.” His lips quirked. “It was cute.” I gazed up at him in complete astonishment—not about the cute remark, though yeah, that had my heart fluttering. But what had me so totally, heart-pumping, speechlessly amazed was: The Griff really knew me. He did. He totally got me. The thought had me in a giddy daze. I held on to the wall behind me for support and blinked and blinked, trying to shake away the loopy, dreamy haze clouding up my mind and focus on something other than: Wow!

Mostly, I wanted to thank Griffin for the beautiful, thoughtful gift. It was so sweet. I wanted to thank him so incredibly bad. But staring at him, gazing into his seductive long lashed eyes, my brain turned to Jell-O. So instead, we just stood staring at each other in silence, our hearts racing—or anyway, mine was. It was flying away. But then, Aiden came bounding out of the gym door, bouncing me back into the real world—the world that consisted of more than gorgeous brown eyes and hot kewpie-doll lips. Aiden’s gaze flicked to Griffin, looking quizzical and unhappy, then darted back to me. “Sorry, I’m late,” he said. “Can we go talk alone? At my locker?” I nodded unable to say anything, and followed Aiden toward the other side of campus. Well, my body followed him. I’m not exactly sure what my heart did. I think it might have stayed with Griffin. But I didn’t turn around even though I could feel Griffin’s eyes on me as I walked away. I didn’t dare turn and look because no, even after all that—that yummy, delicious sweetness—I knew I could never have anything with Griffin, not anything real. I couldn’t. I was a good girl and not looking to be bad. That just wasn’t me. So no, I couldn’t actually “date” The Griff. But I could dream about him—I’d definitely dream about him. I followed Aiden to his locker and watched him put his books inside and then he slammed it shut. “I heard Griffin took a picture of you during study hall,”

Aiden said, turning back to face me. He grimaced. “I hate that guy.” Then he went on, “I hate everything about him, Ally. And I hate how you were looking at him just now.” “What?” I smirked. “Like, the way you look at Fiona?” Aiden ducked his head. “Let’s not fight,” he said in a small voice. “I was so glad you finally texted back. I miss you so much, Ally—I ache.” I swallowed, knowing exactly how he felt. “Me too.” We talked a long time. It was good conversing with him again, soothing to my heart. But even as I tried to concentrate on what he was saying—I couldn’t help it— Griffin’s eyes and lips and words kept swirling around in my brain, messing with my thoughts even as I tried to focus on Aiden and us getting back together. Griffin’s words—all of them, they danced around in my brain: “Don’t delete the

picture, Heaven.” … “I like you, Heaven.” … “Don’t run away from me.” … “There’s other ways to show me you like me.”… His words—the way he said them—they just went on and on in my brain, haunting me, making me dizzy and unable to concentrate on Aiden or anything he was saying. “Kiss me, Aiden,” I finally whispered, interrupting whatever he was saying. He smiled, tilting his head. “What?” “Kiss me.” His smile grew, showing his dimples—something that used to make me all tingly inside. “Okay.”

He put his arms around my waist just as he had done a hundred times, only now it felt different since he hadn’t done it in months. It felt … special. Because I wasn’t taking it for granted. Now I had seen him do it to Fiona. And it had hurt me to see that—hurt so bad. It had filled me with wounded longing and made me wish I had him back and could feel his arms around me again. So, it was nice finally being in his arms after so much suffering. Nice and comfortable and right. “Kiss me,” I whispered again. “I’m going to,” he whispered back with a husky laugh, his lips already pressed against mine. And then he was kissing me for real, warm and pleasant and nice. But that was all it was, nice. I clamped my lips together, pulling away from him, frustrated. “What’s wrong?” Aiden asked, looking confused, then concerned. “You’re all pale. Are you okay?” Yes, I was okay. That was the trouble. Aiden’s kisses made me feel—okay. Not like my knees were going to give out or like my heart was going to explode. They just made me feel okay—comfortable and settled. Which I had always thought was a good thing—before. I’d thought that’s what I wanted. I mean, ever since Aiden and I broke up, that had become my goal in life, what I was striving for—to feel okay. And I could live with it, of course. Feeling okay about a kiss. Only, now that I had it, I didn’t exactly feel comfortable settling for it. I mean, it wasn’t as bad as me trying to like Milo … but

it was close. Suddenly, it seemed incredibly close, pathetically close. Because I’d had that stupid, beautiful, fantastic encounter with Griffin only moments earlier. Ugh! No. No way. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the school year pining over a guy that was all wrong for me. “Kiss me again.” I shocked Aiden, and pulled him to me by his collar, desperate for something amazing this time. Aiden cocked his head looking bewildered, but he willingly brought his lips to mine and kissed me again. And again, it was nice. Sweet and comfortable. But there just weren’t any tingles. Or anything special. No sparks. Feeling a lump in my stomach, suddenly I remembered something I hadn’t thought about since we broke up—the reasons we broke up. I hadn’t been feeling happy or settled with Aiden anymore. Our relationship had started to make me feel agitated and distressed all the time. It made me feel sad and unspecial—Aiden had made me feel that way. He had acted like Fiona was “it” and I … well, wasn’t. That made me lose any sparks I had toward him—right there. All this time I’d blamed it on Griffin’s kiss, but that was stupid. I should have blamed it on Aiden’s actions. I took a deep, ragged breath. “I’ve missed you, Aiden.” I stepped away from him. “You’re one of my best friends.” His smile faltered. “Friends?—you’re saying you just want to be friends?” I swallowed, then nodded unable to speak.

“I can’t believe you, Ally,” he said incredulously. Then he sounded angry—threatening. “I’m going to ask Fiona to the dance then—and be an official couple—just like she wants.” I nodded. “I know, Aiden. I know.” A tear slid down my cheek. I didn’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, I choked out, “It’ll hurt to see that.” More tears started falling, more and more. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my sweater, but they were pouring. I didn’t want to lose Aiden. I loved Aiden … but these days just as a friend—I realized that now, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. It would kill me to see him with Fiona. It just would. But we weren’t right together anymore. We were over. We deserved sparks. Aiden stood there, silently watching me cry, looking torn—mad, but compassionate. “Geez, Ally,” he murmured. He didn’t sound mad anymore; he sounded resigned. He watched me cry a moment longer—probably thinking he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore and shouldn’t console me, but then suddenly, he was beside me and put his arms around me, holding me tight in his familiar embrace, whispering in my ear, “I’m going to miss you, Ally.”

***

Friday morning classes dragged. I moped around school hating everyone—because everyone was happy and excited about the stupid dance. Blah. Jazz was basically intolerable; she was so excited to be going with Conner. At lunch Destiny was all smiles. She sat at our table, beaming. “Guess what,” she said, looking at me—not Jazz —but I didn’t feel up to guessing games. “You totally dodged a bullet,” she said with a smile. I jutted my chin from side to side, a habit I’d picked up from watching Griffin—stalking him. He did it all the time when he was thinking something over. It was adorable. “What bullet?” I finally asked, giving up on trying to figure what she was talking about. “Milo asked me to the dance!” she gushed, then she went on to explain how it came about. He asked her when she was trying to steer him clear of me. “I told him you’re really confused right now and it’s hard breaking up with someone when you’ve been together for over two years. It’s hard to let go.” She went on with a huge smile on her face, telling me how they got to talking about the dance—and she had mentioned that she wasn’t going. “And then, he just asked me!” she gushed. “I totally wasn’t expecting it. But I think he’s gorgeous! And sings so good—better than Griffin, even.” That was so not true, but totally beside the point. I sat there frozen, listing to her gush, trying to be happy for her, but really, I would have gone to the dance with Milo—if he

would have asked me. Actually, I would have gone to the dance with anyone. Still, I knew I should be happy for Destiny—and I was. I was happy for her, even thrilled, but I was sad for me. Everybody was going to the dance—Destiny with Milo, Jazz with Conner, Aiden with Fiona. I was the only one not going to the dance. And I was the only one that even liked school dances. After all, I was on the dance committee and everything. This bit. *** After school, I trudged to the gym to decorate it for a stupid dance I wasn’t even going to. At first we had a lot of people helping us, but after the first hour only Bianca and I were left. And as I said, I kind of hated Bianca. She was bossy and snobby, but president of the dance committee. So, yeah, my day was just tops. Bianca left to go hunt up more streamers, and then it was just me—alone in the stupid gym, getting it all pretty for the stupid dance. I was so sad and depressed I wanted to cry. I could feel tears forming as I was up on the ladder trying to get the tape I’d put on the streamer to actually stick to the wall. But it needed to be up higher than I could actually reach. “Do you need help?”

I jerked around at the unexpected male voice. Then I almost fell off the ladder, because it was Griffin. He was standing in the gym doorway watching me. “Um, yeah,” I managed to choke out. “I could really use some help. Definitely.” With my heart racing I watched Griffin grab the ladder Bianca had been using. He brought it over next to mine and climbed up beside me. Then he put up all the streamers— for me—and for a dance he wouldn’t be caught dead at. I was touched and speechless, just as I always was these days when Griffin was around. He just kept doing these unexpectedly nice, wonderful, thoughtful things. They wreaked havoc with my heart—and my resolve to stay away from him. Had me ready to jump into his arms and beg him to call me “Heaven” again and to give me three more minutes in it. Only just then Bianca breezed back into the gym carrying an armload of streamers and a big sign that said, “Rock My World.” Looking amazed she gazed around the gym, her expression totally pleased. “Wow, you got a lot done while I was gone.” “Griffin helped,” I said, though that was totally an understatement. He basically did everything. I just supervised and told him what to do. It had been … nice. Bianca plunked her armload of streamers down on the refreshment table, eyeing Griffin with a new interest. “It all looks really great,” she purred. “Could you put up this sign for me?”

Griffin’s jaw flinched slightly. “No, sorry. I’ve got to go.” “Oh, okay.” She kind of glared at him, then turned to me with a shrug. “So, finish with the streamers and then hang this sign right over that door and I think we’re set.” Um, ugh. Bianca immediately left, saying she needed to check on something. Once she was gone, Griffin turned back to me. “Want me to put up that sign?” My heart fluttered. Didn’t he just say …? “I thought you had to go.” He smirked. “I just didn’t want to help her. I don’t like her.” I couldn’t help smiling at that—smiling big. “But you’ll help me?” He had his back to me, climbing the ladder with the sign in his hand. “Sure.” “Because … you like me?” He turned to me and smirked. “Well, I don’t hate you.” Then he grinned. “Of course I like you, Heaven. That’s why I keep asking you to the river and parties, but you keep shooting me down.” “You ask me to the river because you like me?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism out of my voice. I mean, the river—where people get drunk and hook up. That’s where he took girls he liked? Griffin glanced back over at me and then back to the sign, centering it. He didn’t answer. “Ask me somewhere else,” I whispered, only not out

loud. When Griffin was done with the sign he came over towards me and kept coming towards me until he playfully had me backed against the wall. He played with a tendril of my hair, and his eyes stared into mine. “I have a crush on you, Heaven.” Oh, my heart couldn’t take it. It couldn’t. Big, strong Griffin being so sweet and gentle and looking at me that way—all warm and tender and I want you. It had my body on fire and all tingly and woozy and my heart beating so fast I was sure it was going to explode. “I have one on you too.” “I know.” He tugged playfully on a lock of my hair. “You told me.” I gave a soft laugh, my brain gone—totally not in my head—all I could think about was his eyes and his soft, pink lips and how it seemed he was going to kiss me again. “Oh yeah.” “I’m writing a song about it,” he said, his face drawing near mine. “A song about you.” I jerked my head up, coming out of my stupor. Wh???? “You write songs?” Griffin gave me a look, like: Why do you sound so

incredulous … and turned on? But after a moment all he said was, “Yeah. I write all the songs for our band. That song that we did at the school talent show? I wrote that.” Purrrrr! Okay, now I wanted to pounce on him. Gah!

My stomach knotted a little. Actually, it knotted a lot. Life was cruel. So unfair. Why oh why did he have to be a bad boy? Mr. Party Animal? Why did such a hot, talented wise-guy have to come around tempting me so bad? Now I was going to dream about him forever—and want and lust and yearn for him. Ugh! It wasn’t fair! Griffin had no idea what was going through my head— that I was contemplating making a run for the exit before I did something stupid, like give up my resolve. Give into his … hotness. I mean, he wrote songs! And he said he liked me. Well, he said he did. But okay, that’s what players do, right? They mess with girls’ hearts—tease them and tempt them and get them all panting just for fun. Geez, I hated players. I tried reminding myself of that. Griffin’s a player, Griffin’s a player. I chanted it over and over again in my head, trying to be strong and keep my resolve—I couldn’t date a bad boy. I couldn’t, I couldn’t, I couldn’t. Griffin’s gaze flicked to the streamers above us. “So, this decorating we did.” His eyes were back on mine. “It’s for a dance, right?” I grimaced, then nodded, wondering if he knew Aiden and I didn’t get back together though I told him we were. I wondered if he knew Aiden was going to the dance with Fiona. Then it struck me—he probably knew. After all, he and Aiden were on the same hockey team, and Fiona was

a hockey cheerleader—word gets around in those kinds of circles. Maybe that’s why he was being so nice—helping me decorate and everything. He felt sorry for me. The thought was both touching and humiliating at the same time. It filled me with a strange warmth, but had my ears burning and made me want to run away and hide and just think about all this stuff—Griffin being so nice. That’s all I wanted to do now—fantasize about it. I didn’t want to have to face the actual meaning behind his kind, sweet gesture —the crushing facts of why. It was too … pathetic. Even rough, tough The Griff felt sorry for me— decorating for a dance I wasn’t going to. That’s probably why he had been all mushy, telling me he had a crush on me. He just felt sorry for me. Suddenly, I wanted to crawl under a rock. But Griffin tilted his head, looking so deep into my eyes he practically had to hold me up to keep me from swooning. “Okay, Heaven,” he said, “you won’t go with me to a party. Will you go with me to the dance?” My heart stopped and heat rushed in. I blinked. I was going to fall for real. “You’ll … come to the dance?” He raised his eyebrows. “If you’ll come with me.” My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. This moment didn’t seem real—couldn’t be real. Griffin was offering to take me to the dance? The Griff? The thought had me giddy and this awe-inspiring, mind-blowing realization washed through me—no, I couldn’t date a bad-boy, but … Griffin wasn’t really a “bad” boy. I

mean, he didn’t pound Aiden’s face in that day after school —the day we kissed— and he didn’t post my journal entries all over the internet—he’d sent them back to me. And since I wouldn’t go to a party with him, he was willing to go to a dance with me—a school dance. That was so not a badboy thing. I was ready to melt into a puddle. Griffin grinned at my huge, dorky smile. “So will you go with me?—To the dance?” I nodded, too amazed to speak. *** I would love to tell you that The Griff and I went to the dance and it was wonderful and all my dreams came true. But I can’t. Because that didn’t happen. We didn’t end up even going to the dance. I got all dressed up and waited for him. And waited for him, and waited for him. But he never showed. Two hours after he was supposed to come to my house and sweep me off my feet, the phone started ringing. It kept ringing and ringing, but I didn’t answer it. I was curled up in a ball on my bedroom floor, still in my beautiful dress that I had bought especially for the dance. I didn’t answer the phone because I was bawling and I didn’t want whoever was on the line to hear my sobbing. I knew it was either Jazz or Destiny calling to see where I

was—or it was Griffin calling with a lame excuse why he decided not to show. Or maybe it would be him laughing, saying: “You really fell for that? You thought I’d go to a school dance?” He was mean. Evil! I hated him. Three hours later, I finally dragged myself off the floor to check all the phone messages. I read through the list of numbers, seeing a lot of the calls were from Jazz and Destiny. But there was another number that kept calling too. Finally, I took a deep breath and listened to the messages. The unfamiliar number wasn’t from Griffin. It was from his Mom. She called to say Griffin was in the hospital, that he had been rushed there and that he’d had emergency surgery. “It was his appendix,” she said with a quiver in her voice. I let out my breath as she went on. “Griffin kept insisting I call you.” She gave a meaningful pause. “He wanted me to tell you he’s sorry.” She had called a few times after that, but didn’t leave a message; however, on her last call she did. She said Griffin was in room 203 at the hospital. Then she added candidly, “My son wants to see you, Ally. I don’t know who you are, but you seem important to him. He was going to a school dance with you?” She said it like she could hardly believe it. “Visiting hours are over for the night, but please come see him first thing in the morning.”

*** Griffin didn’t stand me up! I went to bed on a cloud of happiness. He didn’t stand me up! He didn’t stand me up! Earlier I had done a little dance around my room about it, chanting the mantra out loud. “He didn’t stand me up!” But later, in my bed, I couldn’t sleep. I was so out of control today. So happy and excited this afternoon when Griffin asked me to the dance, but then, I practically died of heartbreak when he didn’t show up. I tossed and turned in bed, deciding I couldn’t take this —trying to date Griffin. I liked him too much. My feelings for him were too intense. My feelings for Aiden were never like this—never so extreme. They were nice and solid and safe. They were comfortable. “Yeah, like an old pair of tennis shoes,” Jazz said when I called her the next morning, explaining why I didn’t show up at the dance—and then, why I didn’t go to the hospital this morning to see Griffin. She sighed. “So The Griff’s really in the hospital?” “I guess so.” Jazz sounded incredulous. “You seriously haven’t gone to see him?” “No,” I said in exasperation. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t think I should go see him. I think I

should stay away from him—try to forget about him. I like him too much.” I could hear Jazz rolling her eyes. “You are so full of excuses, Ally! First he doesn’t like you enough and he’s a bad-boy and he’s not your type, blah-da, blah-da blah. Now he’s too perfect and wonderful and he’s too right for you.” She made it sound like it was crazy, but it wasn’t. Griffin was too right for me. He played the guitar and I wanted to learn to play the guitar, and he wrote songs and I loved to write songs, and he could kiss super good and suddenly I was all into kissing. It was too perfect, too exciting, too much. I couldn’t handle it. I needed vanilla. “No, I’m serious,” I insisted. “It’s probably just as well we didn’t go out last night. I was so excited about the dance, too excited—about going with Griffin, and then when he didn’t show up I almost died of disappointment. I mean it, Jazz—I curled up in a ball on my floor—for hours!” “So you were excited.” Jazz sounded matter-of-fact. “It’s good to have a little excitement in your life, Ally.” “A little excitement—maybe. But I was over excited.” I scooped my cat, Daisy, up in my arms. “I’m so glad we didn’t go out last night—I would have been a spaz. Besides,” I said offhandedly, “if Griffin and I had started becoming a couple or whatever—it would’ve killed Aiden.” Jazz snorted. “I think he’ll survive,” she said. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I saw Aiden last night—at the dance. Brace yourself—he was with a girl—Fiona. Remember, his girlfriend?”

Daisy jumped out of my arms and I flung myself across my bed, slightly grinning from Jazz’s sarcasm. I knew she was right—Aiden wasn’t my boyfriend anymore. I didn’t have to worry about his feelings or if he approved of me dating Griffin. Heck, I didn’t approve of him dating Fiona, but that didn’t seem to matter. Jazz sighed. “Look, Aiden’s getting on with his life. Why don’t you get on with yours?”

*** By the time I got to Griffin’s hospital room he looked so happy to see me, I felt like a jerk for not coming sooner. A really stupid jerk. His warm smile got my heart all fluttery. Just for something to do, so that I didn’t just gawk at him like I wanted to, I announced all chipper and excited, “I brought you chicken soup.” I held up the jar like ta-da. “Jazz and I made it for you.” I leaned against the doorframe, feeling awkward. I couldn’t bring myself to fully enter the room. I’m not sure why. “My mom—she always makes me soup when I’m sick. It helps me feel better.” Griffin raised his eyebrows. “It’s helping me feel better.” I gave a nervous laugh. “You haven’t even tried it yet.” “No, but you made me soup,” he said. “And you came to see me. Seeing you, Heaven—that makes me feel better.”

Aww. That got my heart all fluttery again. “I brought you a cactus, too.” I held up the tiny plant. Griffin’s lips quirked. “I see that.” “I’m going to put it here in the window,” I said, finally coming completely into the room. “It has this tiny, little bud that is going to blossom in the morning. Tomorrow when you wake up, it’ll be here—a flower.” He stared at me, his eyes glistening. “Thanks, Heaven.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, wondering what I did to deserve the way he was looking at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I was going to but—” “Hey,” he interrupted my lame attempt at an apology. “Come here.” He held out his hand. “Sit with me.” Slowly, tentatively, I did as he requested, since it was exactly what I wanted. Finally I was doing it, trying a new flavor. It was kind of scary, but seeing Griffin smile at me all warm and sweet, and remembering his hot, passionate kiss; suddenly, I knew—the risk was worth all the trauma.

NOVELS By Melanie Marks:

The Dating Deal When Kyle Came Back A Demon’s Kiss

Author Note:

I’d like to give a special thank you to my readers who buy everything I write—thank you so much! I appreciate the support so much! I love you guys! I’d also like to give a shout-out to Ally who was my very first teen fan on GoodReads and to “Ladybug” who did a video review of Fall For Me. I’d never seen one of those before. Thanks!!!! J

Author Bio:

Melanie Marks was born and raised in California. She is married to a naval nuclear submarine officer and blessed with three amazingly terrific kids. Melanie has had over fifty short stories published in magazines such as Highlights, Woman’s World, and Teen Magazine as well as in various anthologies, many being Chicken Soup for the Soul books. She’s had four children’s books published and three teen novels, THE DATING DEAL, A DEMON’S KISS, and WHEN KYLE CAME BACK. More teen novels are forthcoming in the fall of 2011, such as THE STRANGER INSIDE and more. Melanie enjoys reading in the bathtub, writing in bed, and living in a house longer than two years. Visit her website at http://www.byMelanieMarks.com or email her: [email protected].