My stomach clenches. I break out into a cold sweat. No one's ever asked me this. No one's ever seemed to care. "I...uh...um...well..." I fiddle with the computer mouse.

"Sorry. I'm always putting my foot in it. You don't have to tell me. I'm so nosy. Sorry," she flushes.

"No. It's okay. It's sort of gruesome. But if you want to hear it, I kind of want to tell you." I take a deep breath and meet Mich.e.l.le's gaze.

She nods, her eyes turning grave.

"I was almost raped." I swallow. "At a party. Almost. Nothing happened. They-I mean the cops-found me. No clothes, half pa.s.sed out, even tied to a bed. Supposedly it was quite a scene. But nothing major happened-to me, that is."

"Oh my G.o.d. What do you mean nothing happened?! Wow...Jess. I'm so sorry." Mich.e.l.le has tears in her eyes.

"I don't remember it. Don't even remember who did it. How I got in the room, on the bed. My parents think I was drugged, but we never tested because I had definitely admitted to drinking so...yeah." I shrug. "I suppose not remembering it all is a good thing. I'm always tired because I have nightmares about that night so I try to only sleep during the day. They're sort of fragmented memories that won't go away. But the nightmares scare me. A lot. The clinical term is Rape Related PTSD. My term: suck-a.s.s isolated, lonely, loser lifestyle."

"And the guy responsible for it all? Is he in jail?"

I shrug. "I don't know who he is. I couldn't remember his name or his face. I didn't...I don't want to remember him. Any of it. I used to want that, but now, I wish that night would just disappear out of my head. We-my parents-didn't press any charges, or whatever. An *almost rape' is nearly impossible to prosecute. I was so out of it, I guess I was partly responsible. Made bad choices and all that stuff they say not to do. Well, I did them all that night."

"Duh. No! AND NO. You were not responsible." I'm surprised Mich.e.l.le's wiping away tears now. "Freshman year. We were so dumb, that's true. But come on. Any kind of rape is never the victim's fault. You were young-probably punier than old Porter in that newspaper article. How old were we freshman year? We were like sitting ducks back then."

"Fourteen. And cluelessly trying to be so cool. Noticed." I remember the baby pink Converse I'd made my mom buy me for the first day of school. I'd worn them to that party, thinking they were so awesome.

Mich.e.l.le nods. "Fourteen was baby-land. I was so scared freshman year...even to go to lunch. I can't imagine how you must have felt at that party. What you went through." Mich.e.l.le pushes her chair back and comes to hug me. I let her. It feels nice.

"Want to know the sad part?" I ask, when she sits back in her chair.

"What you've told me isn't the sad part?" Mich.e.l.le's face is so anguished and freaked that I have to smile.

"I've still never been kissed. It's the only thing I'm sure about from that night. The guy-he-never actually kissed me. The rest, it's all a blur. Voices. Images. Stupid stuff. Like, I have an odd seash.e.l.l phobia now. I hate them. And I have no idea why."

"That's so messed up. But if you ask me, the no-kissing is the good part, not the bad part. As if you'd want that creeper to be on your first kiss memory bank. First kisses should be special. Perfect."

"Yeah. You're right." I feel suddenly lightheaded, but not in a bad way! Like I'm happy. Saying everything out loud had made my problems seem...smaller. That, or I feel bigger. Stronger. Holy. I blink at Mich.e.l.le. Is this what real, live, progress feels like? Too bad it's too late to make any sort of dent in the disaster I've made of my life.

"Jess. I can't believe-we all a.s.sumed you were some sort of stuck up, straight A-you know-a total-"

"b.i.t.c.h? Yeah, I know. I wanted people to think that. It was easier than having to explain myself. Easier than having to make conversation. It's hard to chat when all I ever want to do is sleep. I like my reputation. It keeps me alive."

"Wow. Does Gray know all this?"

"No. Well-he knows I don't sleep at night. Not why. It's one thing to tell another girl. But Gray..." I swallow and meet her gaze. After all this honesty, I don't want to start up the lies again, but I have no choice. I can't bring up the fact that I have a signed boyfriend contract with her oldest friend. Even cool, like Mich.e.l.le is, she would eventually tell someone. And I mean to survive senior year without people finding out I paid a guy to date me. I try to skirt around the lies with half-truths. "Our relationship is complicated. I told him I didn't want anything physical. He's respected that so far, which is really sweet. But now, I think things are changing between us."

"Aww. You really like him, don't you?"

I nod. "I'd have to tell him what happened to me. And I don't want to. I think I should break up with him before he gets too serious. Before both of our hearts get broken."

"After how he acted today, I promise, Gray's beyond serious about you. He won't care what happened. I think he's fallen for you big-time. He's never been this bonkers over any girl. Ever."

My chest constricts. "It doesn't matter. I don't think I can... you know...kiss and do all that other stuff that's required for the next level. It won't work. I'm like...broken now."

"Why?"

"I'm worried I'll have some sort of relapse or act crazy if he touches me when I'm nervous. And to hit the next level, I know I would be really nervous because he would be touching my lips with his, right? h.e.l.lo. It makes me nervous to just say it out loud."

"Oh. My. G.o.d! Yeah." She laughs.

I blush but continue, "My therapist said with stress and PTSD, anything could happen to me. I would just die if I freaked out or if Gray...if he ever looked at me like...like I was truly crazy. I can take being called a b.i.t.c.h by anyone; but I can't look in Gray's eyes if he believes I'm whacked. I think I'd rather cut and run before the inevitable goes down."

"But, Jess, he wouldn't! You wouldn't react to him like that! I've seen you wrapped in his arms countless times, and you've looked completely happy about it. I'd never suspect you had any issues. I think you should go for it. Tell him. Or if that's too extreme, take a chance and kiss him once. To find out. Before you decide to walk away, you have to give it a chance. And then-even if you did go nuts-you'd have your first kiss with a boy you really like. So...it's worth it either way, right?"

My heart races at the thought of me just planting one on Gray. "No. I've already sort of flipped out on him once on accident. The look on his face afterwards almost killed me. It's why I backed off. I prefer preventative medicine to public open heart surgery. No way am I going to try and kiss that guy!"

Mich.e.l.le shakes her head. "You're in love. Open heart surgery is how it feels for everyone. And if you're in the stage where you're both still unsure and not committed, it is scary. It also hurts like h.e.l.l whether you're sane or not."

"Then, I don't think I can handle love. It feels just awful."

She laughs. "From the look on Gray's face an hour ago, he wasn't doing so well himself. He and you have matching dark circles under your eyes. You two have it so bad, it's hilarious." She laughs again.

"Thanks. You suck. But it's not going any farther than this. Not for me. He wants us to be long term friends, and I guess I can consider trying that. But I have to make him understand that friends, JUST friends, has to be my max exposure to him. To any guy."

Mich.e.l.le grins and leans back, spinning her chair again while staring at the ceiling. "My mom says everyone has secrets-like personal demons-they have to battle. You'll just have to overcome them. I know you can. If you try. But it's your choice whether you chose to go to war or not."

"Pffft. Whatever. What if I'm my own personal demon? How do I battle myself? It's impossible."

"I'll ask my mom and let you know. Which reminds me, I'm supposed to pick her up. She lent me her car." Mich.e.l.le stands to leave. "You're still on for ThunderLand tomorrow, right? I'm driving us. Total score. It's a minivan. Plenty of room for catching up on sleep!"

I smile. Content that she knows I'll probably have to take her up on that offer. "I'm in-if Gray still wants me to go. If Gran's okay, all that. It will be a perfect time for me to talk to Gray."

She shakes her head. "Don't break my boy's heart. We can't be friends if you do that."

"I won't. I'm going to let him down easy. I just need him to shut up and listen to me."

Mich.e.l.le rolls her eyes. "Blah, blah, blah. You are so far gone over him, you're never coming back down to earth. I'm hoping whatever drivel he put in that envelope will fix things, so you two can patch it up and start making out already." She winks and pulls a face. "I'm late...if I don't go now, Corey will have to drive us to ThunderLand because my mom will revoke my car privileges. And none of us want to be in that situation." She bends and looks into my eyes. "You going to be okay? You could come with me...?"

I smile. "No. I'm fine. I think I'll go home and nap so I can be fresh for tomorrow. Thanks for listening."

Mich.e.l.le nods. "One day, I'll spill my own tragic, parents-got-divorced story on your head. Though next to yours, my story isn't even sad. It was cool of you to confide. Your secret-demon-monkey-war is safe with me. I'll never tell. Pick you up at 8 AM?"

I let out a long breath, relieved that I didn't even have to ask her not to tell. "I'll be ready."

Mich.e.l.le pauses at the door looking lost. "Point me out of here."

I laugh and point to the right. "At the end of the hall take two lefts. Follow the exit signs to the top of the stairs."

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

Jess When I'm home, twenty minutes later-and safe in my room, I pull out the white envelope and tear into it.

Jess, if you're reading this then Mich.e.l.le came through.

Sorry about today-and the old-school delivery, but it's all I can do. Gran's good. Don't worry like I know you will.

Maybe it's for the best we can't talk face to face. In a letter, I can say what I need to say without your beautiful eyes distracting me from my point. Like they always do.

And my point is this: It's OVER. I mean the contract, not us.

I never should have signed it in the first place.

I can do college a million ways. I don't want the money this contract brings me anymore. My goals have changed. And not one of my goals will work without you in my life.

You. You + Me.

I'm asking you out. For real. Say yes. Take a chance, even though you'll find out quickly that I don't deserve that chance, or even to be in the same room with you. But I still want that chance...want to be with you. I know you thought I wanted us to be friends. But I don't.

I want more.

Tomorrow. ThunderLand. I'm hoping it will count as our first real date.

I have much more to say, so much to tell you. But I need to be holding your hands, and looking into those distracting blue eyes to say the rest. And yes, as promised, I'm ready to listen to you. But whatever happens, hear me first and...don't hate me after.

Please. Never hate me.

It's wrong of me to ask that favor in this note, because you don't even know what I mean yet. Or why. But...this is GAME ON for me, Jess. And this letter is my first major play to keep your heart forever...so please, remember: Do. Not. Hate. Me.

Play number two is also in this envelope.

Tonight-when you're trying not to sleep-though I wish you would-I'm asking you to think about us. US. Us being together, how good we are as a team. How much fun we have as FRIENDS because despite your stubbornness-we both know we're already that.

G.o.d, I wish I could see your face when I ask you this question.

Here goes: Is there a chance you could love me? Even a little?

Because I do-love you. And I think you know that already too.

Either way, no matter what happens tomorrow-I'm not taking any of what is in this envelope back.

Love. Seriously. Love you. With all my heart.

See you tomorrow.

Gray A second, rectangular shaped, light blue paper is still stuck inside the envelope.

My heart's pounding, and my eyes burn with tears, frustration, anger, and of course absolute longing.

How could I not be dying with that after reading what he'd written.

His words change everything.

Unfortunately, they also change nothing. As much as I wish I could accept his words and his love-neither can change me into someone else. Someone different. He has no idea whom he's asking to date. If he did know the real me, he wouldn't have asked in the first place.

A boyfriend, love, and any sort of normal relationship is not for me.

I'm not allowed to have that. If I were, I'd have cured myself long ago.

I pull out the paper and open it. It's a personal check.

From Gray Porter, make payable to: Jess Jordan, the sum of $4,000.00 On the bottom left hand corner, he'd scrawled "internship payback". I grab my phone and text him, hoping that when he gets out of the hospital where the network can find him, he'd read it immediately.

WTF. No need to stay up all night wondering. My answer holds. No. No. No. NO. I'm not keeping this money. Thanks, but no. To all of it, no. I don't love you. You don't love me. You don't even know me. And you promised you wouldn't back out on the contract. I'll bring the check tomorrow.

It's not until much later that night while I'm staring endlessly at the ceiling fan going around and around in my room, that I finally receive Gray's reply: Home with Gran. All is well. Not taking *no' as an answer from you until we talk. I do know you. And I do love you. You'll see this is right. Be there at 8AM, GF.

Before he can text me again, or worse, call me, I power down the phone without replying.

For the first time all summer, I'm easily able to stay awake all night long.

Because who could sleep when you have a letter like mine to read, again and again?

Chapter Thirty.

Jess "And who's driving, exactly?"

My mom's on a roll. She'd been plucking dead leaves off the houseplants and making up random conversations so she can haunt the front entryway while I wait for the gang to pick me up.

"Mich.e.l.le. Mich.e.l.le Hopkins. She's a good friend. She's driving her mom's new Honda minivan. It has airbags all over it. We'll be perfectly safe."

"And what time do you plan to be home?"

"The place closes at 8, it's about a two hour drive. I won't be past my 11PM curfew. I promise. Plus I need to wake up early to help with the BBQ, right?" I add that in to keep her focused on the idea that she's going to get what she wants-tomorrow.

"Yes. Oh, I can't wait to meet your boyfriend. I just can't. I wish you'd invite him in this morning."

"That would spoil the surprise," I quip.

Kika wanders through on her way to the kitchen. She's heard my last line to Mom. She snorts, once, very loudly, and keeps walking as she tosses me her most scathing glare.