"But-"

"But nothing, baby." I kiss her forehead and dress quickly. She watches, thumb trapped between her teeth, tears in her eyes, and I know she's hurting. She feels guilty, as if it's her fault this happened, but it's not. She didn't cheat. I did. I didn't even think of Grace-not once. I sit back on the bed and rest my hand on her leg. "Are we going to do this? You and me?"

She stares at me a moment, nods once, but she seems unsure.

"Then I have to take care of this. Tonight."

"Okay," she croaks, her gaze lowering.

"Lane, you know I'd love nothing more than to stay here with you, but I need to do this."

"I know," she says, but she doesn't. She's insecure, and I'm not surprised.

"Lane."

She looks up, meets my eyes.

"I love you."

Chapter Eight.

LOIS.

I expected Luke to call in the morning and offer me a ride, but then I realized it wasn't just our first day back at school; it was Leo's, too, and Logan's first day of high school. So he'd be busy making sure everyone was set, probably fighting with Logan to get him out of bed. I look for him in the hallways, in the cafeteria, but our paths never seem to cross. I figure he broke up with Grace last night and might not want to rub it in her face by openly seeking me out. Luke's an arrogant jock, but he has a heart of gold.

I send him a text.

Two.

Three.

He doesn't respond.

I start to get giddy, wanting, needing to see him, because I spent all night tossing and turning and remembering what it felt like to have him on top of me, inside me, whispering words of love. He told me he loved me, more than once, and that has to mean something, right?

He has track practice after school, so I go to the library and leave with enough time to meet him outside the locker rooms when he's done. I stand in the tunnel that joins the field to the locker rooms, and I wait amongst the captured wind flowing in and out. I become cold, because even though it's summer, the sun's not on me, it's out there on the field with Lucas. So I reach into my bag, pull out a sweater, and shrug it on. It covers my eyes, blinds me for a moment, and when I can see again, there's a guy standing in front of me-a guy I recognize but haven't seen for years. He hasn't changed much, though, same rich-kid haircut groomed to look perfectly messy, same dark eyes, same smirk that always makes him seem like he's thinking about things he shouldn't be thinking about. He should be at UNC, where he got in on the same scholarship that's been promised to Luke, not standing outside the locker rooms of his old high school. Cooper Kennedy was your typical, ent.i.tled bad boy. Luke, along with many others, thought he was a d.i.c.k. But he was also Luke's compet.i.tion our first/Cooper's last year here. Even though they were technically on the same team, track wasn't a team sport. And if Luke and I had heard the rumors, so had he. Luke was set to break his records, take his t.i.tles. And that meant they were enemies, on and off the field. "You're Lois, right?" Cooper asks. "Preston's friend?"

I nod.

"You're all grown up," he says. His eyes trail me from head to toe, and I don't know what he's looking at.

"And you're still the same," I tell him.

"Why so hostile?"

"I'm sorry," I say, and it's true. I don't know Cooper from s.h.i.t on a stick. "I'm just waiting on someone."

"Preston?"

I nod.

"He was finishing cooldowns when I left, so he shouldn't be long."

"Thanks."

"No worries." He points down the tunnel toward the field. "There he is now."

Luke stands center of the tunnel, a silhouette against the bright backdrop. "Lane?" he asks.

"Babe! Wait up!" I recognize the voice. I couldn't not. The voice had been part of Luke's life for the past six months. Grace appears, ponytail swinging from side to side, another silhouette, and now she's holding his arm and Luke's letting her, and I can't see his face, or hers, because I'm blinded. By the sun. By the rage. By the overwhelming heartache. And it's as if all air, all life, leave me at once, and my shoulders drop and so does my gaze because I can't look at them and I feel So.

f.u.c.king.

Stupid.

"You okay?" Cooper says.

I pick up my bag, the pieces of my shattered heart, and I hate tunnels. There's no escape. One way leads me to the locker rooms, and the other way leads me to them.

So.

f.u.c.king.

Stupid.

A hand curls around my elbow, Cooper's, and he says, his voice low, "I'm trying to work out which one of you is the woman scorned."

"f.u.c.k off."

Footsteps get louder and louder, echoing off the stupid walls of the stupid tunnel, and I'm angry and terrified all at once. Cooper puts his arm around my shoulders and says, "I'll give you a ride home, okay?" And he leads me away, using his body as my barrier, and Luke says nothing as we pa.s.s him. Not a d.a.m.n thing. I get in Cooper's tiny red sports car, a Porsche or a Lamborghini or some other obnoxious car his parents gifted him when he turned sixteen. Or maybe it's not the same car. Whatever.

"You want to talk about it?" he asks.

The last thing I want to do is talk about it.

He drives, and by the time I push aside the rage enough to look at the time, an entire hour has pa.s.sed. "You've been driving for an hour?" I yell.

Cooper laughs. "Well, I asked where you lived and you didn't respond, so I've just been driving."

"You're an idiot."

He laughs again. "Okay. I'm the idiot."

"What are you even doing here?"

"I'm giving you a ride home."

"I don't mean here, in the car." I'm mad at him for existing. "I mean, why were you at the school?"

He shrugs. "Community service."

"Your parents' credit card bounced, so you held up a liquor store?"

"I like how you think you know me, Lois Lane."

"Don't call me that."

He changes gears, changes lanes. We're on a highway. He's taking me somewhere far away and he's going to kill me. Well, at least I won't die a virgin. He says, "So only guys who treat you like their personal f.u.c.k toy get to have nicknames for you?"

I scrunch my nose. "You're a pig."

"And you're mean."

I roll my eyes.

He smiles. "I feel like we got off on the wrong foot." He extends his hand. "I'm Cooper Kennedy. And you are?"

I reluctantly shake his hand. "Lois Sanders."

His smile widens. "The girl with the blue dress and bright red cowboy boots..."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was the dress you wore the first day of your freshman year."

"You're kidding..."

"My eyes don't lie, Lois Sanders." He winks. A little creepy. "So Lucas did a number on you, huh?"

I press my lips tight.

"And let me guess. You're feeling pretty d.a.m.n stupid right now."

So.

f.u.c.king.

Stupid.

PAST

LOIS.

"So Cam and Lucy want to take us to the movies tomorrow night. Do you want to go?" Lucas asked, laying across my bed, baseball mitt in one hand, throwing a ball in the air with the other.

"Why?" I ask, turning away from my mirror on the dresser and facing him. Dad said I was too young to wear make-up even though high school started in a couple of days, so he bought me a pack of colored, flavored Lip-Smackers in the hopes we could find a happy medium. The strawberry one was red, made my lips pop and smelled nice, too.

Luke shrugged and rolled over onto his stomach. "I guess they want to celebrate us starting high school or something. If it's a money thing, I can cover you."

I smiled. I couldn't help it. "Like a date?"

"Pshh." He scoffed, then his features straightened. "I mean. It's not a date. My sister and her boyfriend will be there so..."

"Okay," I said, hiding my disappointment. "Only if you're paying, though, because I spent all my allowance on some new outfits."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, sitting up, his eyes narrowed. "What kind of outfits?"

"Just stuff more suitable for high school, you know? I can't walk around in slogan tees forever."

"I like your slogan tees," he said.

I smiled again and turned away from him, watching him watch me through the mirror. "You've changed," he stated, his tone very matter-of-fact.

"How?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Good or bad?"

"I said I don't know."

And just like that, my smile faded.

I wore a new outfit I'd been saving for school. It was a purple dress with black palm tree prints that went to just above my knees and boots that stopped just below them. I'd never owned boots before. At least not ones like those. And I sprayed on perfume my grandmother (on my dad's side) had sent me for my birthday. So even though Luke had said it wasn't a date, I treated it like one. I couldn't help it.

That was my first mistake.

When the doorbell rang at 7:30 pm on the dot, my heart began to race. Dad answered, and I heard them talking. Three voices. Dad, Cam, and Lucas.

They exchanged pleasantries as I made my way up the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs and toward the front door. "Wow," Cameron said when I came into view.