Zane shrugs, smiling a little as he scratches his chin. "I don't know. We had a Chinese cook. I guess I liked how she talked. Okay, I guess I was weird."

"That is kind of weird," I agree. "What did you want to be when you grew up? Did you always want to be a software engineer?"

"h.e.l.l, no." He chuckles. "Uh...a school janitor. What? Don't laugh." He nudges me with his shoulder. "I liked the green coveralls."

"Oh, yeah, I can totally see you in those," I say, nudging him back. "You would look hawt."

"I would look hot," he says. When I snort, he tosses a handful of sand at me. "Your turn, Mercer. What did you want to be?"

"A dinosaur," I say matter of factly, and he laughs. "Okay, I guess I wanted to be a writer."

"And now you are. A successful one at that."

I shrug uncomfortably. "Oh, not really," I mutter. "I just make stuff up that I think people want to read."

Zane c.o.c.ks his head at me, squinting in the dying pinkish light. "Sounds like a writer to me."

"No, it's not the same." I shake my head. "To me, it's not really writing, because I'm not writing what...I want to write. I'm writing what sells. It's following a successful formula, you know? All the popular books out there are just the same story, with the names changed. I don't even enjoy the process of it because I feel like a sellout."

"Hey, you paid your mom's medical bills with it, didn't you? That sounds pretty d.a.m.n amazing to me." Zane reaches over to tug on a lock of my hair. "If it were that easy, we'd all be doing it."

I sigh moodily, digging my bare toes into the cool sand. "Maybe."

"Sometimes you have to compromise a little to get to the point where you can do what you want," Zane says philosophically. "I think you're at that point, Violet."

"Getting there," I murmur. I shake my head. "Let's change the subject. Uh...when did you lose your virginity?"

He slants me a look. "You first-when do you want to lose your virginity?"

I laugh nervously. "Uh-uh! I asked you first."

"Yeah, but my question's more important. So...I think your answer would be better as more of a show than a tell."

I lean forward to smack him, but he grabs me and pushes me back. We wrestle a little, and I end up lying on my back in the sand, with him on top of me.

Zane looks down at me from his superior position on top. "I win," he says smugly.

He's bracing most of his weight on his forearms, so why can't I breathe? Oh, right, he always does this to me when our bodies are touching. I'm sinking into his warmth, his scent. If we kissed, it would taste slightly salty, like the ocean air.

His face is inches from mine. "You cheated," I say softly, looking into his shiny dark eyes. "You're trying to distract me."

He gently brushes loose strands of hair from my face. "It's working, isn't it?"

"Hey, you kids! No public fornicating! Get a room!"

The sudden shout is jarring. Zane and I both look up to find a creepy skinny guy with scraggly red hair and a long beard, grinning toothlessly at us. He hitches up the back of his threadbare shorts and cackles maniacally as he wanders away.

We look at each other and laugh. Zane rolls me on top of him so I end up straddling his hips. He puts his hands behind his head in a relaxed position.

"I'd like the view a lot better if you were wearing less clothes," he murmurs. That lazy s.e.xy smile is back on his face.

"Sure, why don't I just take my top off, then?" I glance around at the few dots of people further down the beach. "You think I could get any money for showing off the girls?"

Zane laughs. "Honey, I'll give you the grand that's in my pocket right now if you show me your girls."

"Oh, is that what's in your pocket?" I ask innocently. "So, that's what one thousand dollars feels like."

"No, that's what eight in-"

I cover his mouth, then poke him in his hard flat stomach. "So," I clear my throat. "How old were you when you first did it?"

Zane takes my hand and kisses my palm. "Okay, but don't judge me. I was twelve."

My eyes widen in disbelief. "What?! Was it...were you...?"

"She was an older woman-thirteen." He squints adorably at me as he pauses. "I was kind of precocious. After my mom killed herself, I went a little wild. Drank a lot, slept with every girl stupid enough to say yes to me...I don't know what I was trying to prove."

I slide off of him and lie beside him in the sand. "Shoot, you were just a kid, trying to cope in a horrible situation, any way you could."

"Yeah." Zane exhales lightly and stares up at the clouded sky. "You wanna know something pretty screwed up? I wasn't sad that she was dead. I was p.i.s.sed. Because she f.u.c.ked up my life yet again with her crazy s.h.i.t. You know, I didn't even miss her-her death was more of an inconvenience to me than anything. Guess that makes me an a.s.shole, huh?"

I'm careful to keep my gaze heavenward. "No. You said you barely knew her, and all your memories of her were traumatic. Just 'cause she's your mom doesn't mean you're required to love her. She was just some poor crazy lady that happened to give birth to you. Maybe you were just relieved that she wasn't suffering anymore."

He is quiet for a minute, then turns his head to look at me. "Where were you when I was twelve?"

"Well, I was nine." I cut my eyes over to him. "And probably locked in the back of a Ho Ho truck, eating my way to freedom. Yeah, that really happened."

Zane rolls over onto his stomach, laughing. "I bet you were awesome."

"Well, yeah," I say modestly.

He reaches over and trails a finger feather light down my cheek. His eyes seem to darken with some serious emotion. "I would have liked you even back then."

The intensity of his gaze is too much to bear. It makes me feel helpless, exposed. I break contact, turning away. "You like fat chicks, huh?" I say, pushing my hair back.

Zane grabs my chin, making me face him. His eyes look steadily into mine. "I like girls with eyes the color of honey and cinnamon, lips I can't stop kissing, and an incredible body made to fit against mine."

Had I been able to speak, I would have totally ruined the moment by saying something dumb, like, "And who would that be?" or "p.e.n.i.s."

Thank G.o.d I am speechless.

Zane leans over. His mouth comes down on mine, sweeping away all conscious thought.

I am falling into a sweet golden light. The touch and taste of him! Soft and firm, light and darkness, pleasure and pain...The pain is a lovely ache, a need I can't explain. I wrap my arms around Zane's neck and draw him closer. He is...everything.

We kiss for endless moments. Zane is the first to pull away, maintaining eye contact.

I am dazed with emotions. How can just a kiss feel more...intimate than the things we did on the kitchen counter that night?

"Gotta stop," he says, and kisses the tip of my nose. He smiles crookedly down at me. "Wanna go for a swim? I could use a distraction."

I laugh shakily. "Me, too."

Zane climbs easily to his feet, then helps me up. We don't bother to roll up our jeans, we just wade out into the water and watch the rolling waves.

"I was really p.i.s.sed at her, too," I blurt out suddenly. "My mom. She knew-knew something was wrong with her. She felt the lump in her breast, but she was in denial about it. I just kept thinking, if she had been responsible about her health, they could have caught it early and taken care of it. The cancer...it just got sprung on me, you know? I thought she had the flu."

I choke out a laugh. Zane takes my hand in his. The warmth of his grip strengthens me.

"I keep thinking it's going to come back when I least expect it. When I'm at my happiest. So I'm always afraid to be happy."

Zane looks out at the horizon. "You know, there are so many things that can go wrong in this world, you could spend your whole life worrying about them and forget to appreciate every moment you have with someone. Then, you're like, 'G.o.d, why wasn't I thankful for what I had when I had it?'" He glances over at me. "You know what the secret to a happy life is?"

I shake my head, silent tears falling down my cheeks.

He squeezes my hand. "No regrets. Just live in the moment."

We stand there, knee deep in the water, holding hands. The silence is thunderous with words we don't speak. I feel his presence beside me like it's an extension of my own body, tall and strong, and so, so beautiful. But I can't look at him. Right now, it hurts too d.a.m.n much.

Chapter 17.

Everyone at school is talking about the Halloween dance. Lauren and I get asked by several guys, but we both say no. We never go to any extracurricular activities-you think people would realize that by now. It's just not our thing. Like cheering at spirit a.s.semblies. The two of us sit there with the other geeks, doing homework while kids around us stomp and cheer.

I can't explain my disconnection from the whole high school experience. I mean, I tried to make an effort with Matt, since he loved that kind of c.r.a.p, but my heart was never in it. Is something wrong with me?

It's fortunate for Zane, however. I don't nag him to attend a silly school dance with me, or try to drag him to a friend's party. I tell him I'm not into that scene, and he seems relieved.

There is, however, a sweethearts dance coming up at Sunset Park that I would like to go to. I debate furiously with myself whether I should invite Zane or not. Would he think I'm lame for asking?

I text him after school one day before I can chicken out.

Me: Hey. What are you doing for Halloween?

He messages me back a couple of minutes later.

Zane: Don't know. Might have to work. What's up?

Me: Nothing. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to this dance they're having at my work.

I put my phone down, anxious as h.e.l.l. I pretend to be preoccupied with looking for something in the kitchen, and I don't know why I bother-there's no one around but me. My phone beeps a second later, and I jump like a...I don't know what. I nervously check my phone for his reply.

Zane: R u asking me to the "senior" prom?

Me: Ha ha Zane: What time?

Me: Six-ish?

I wait two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Then my phone beeps.

Zane: I'll be there I am so glad he can't see me doing my insanely dorky victory dance right now.

Unfortunately, I am not alone like I previously thought. Bill is standing by the refrigerator, and by the horrified look on his face, he's been there a while.

Awesome.

"You don't need to bring a date."

Lauren and I are in our usual lunchtime spot--our favorite bench in the commons. She's eating her turkey sandwich while I work on an essay on Crime and Punishment.

Actually, what I'm really doing is trying to convince her to go to the sweethearts dance with me.

Lauren rolls her eyes and takes a dainty sip from her water bottle. "I don't do dances. Why do you even want me to go? You'll be with Zane."

I can't help the stupid grin on my face. "But you could have your pick of guys to dance with!"

"Wow, a geriatric dream come true." Lauren rolls her eyes. "No, thanks. And didn't you say those old guys were pervs?"

"Not all of them--just Gil and Doc. The rest of them are perfect gentlemen." I point my pen at her. "I'm trying to get you to broaden your horizons, since you won't give the guys here a chance. You know, Chase asked me about you again in math today. He's pretty cute, why don't you just go out with him?"

"Not interested. Just because you're in love, don't go trying to set me up."

"I'm not in love," I swiftly deny. "I'm just tired of that boy hara.s.sing me about you every day."

Lauren grimaces in annoyance. She starts to say something, but stops when we someone calls our names.

It's Kim. She's got a worried look on her pretty face as she jogs up to us.

"Hey, do either of you guys have the vocab list for the Spanish quiz today? I totes forgot to study for it!

Lauren checks her backpack and pulls out a paper. She hands it over to Kim, who looks smiles in relief.

"Thanks! You're a lifesaver. I can't fail another quiz! My mom says I can't go to the dance if I don't get at least a B. And I have a super cute costume, too! Are you guys going?" When we shake our heads, she says, "Lauren, I think Chase is going to ask you to go. He keeps asking me if you have a date yet."

I snicker at Lauren's sour voice. "That boy can't take a hint," she growls.

Kim laughs, tossing back her curly hair. "You should go with him. He's cute, and nice!"

"Yeah, Lauren," I join in. "Give the poor guy a chance."

Lauren just gives me "the look." I smirk until Kim turns to me.