The first few days spent with Laney went by quickly. Mom called them play-dates. She also called us inseparable. Every morning I'd wake up early and run, come home, have breakfast, and wait. Laney's dad would drop her off, offer my mom money (to which she declined), then Laney and I would spend the day racing each other, the distance getting farther each time. On the fourth day, she wore sneakers. She still didn't win, but she was closer. No more than five strides behind me each time. The next day, while sitting out on the dock by the lake, our feet in the water, bodies sweating as we tried to catch our breaths, she asked why all we did was run. I didn't know what to say so I said nothing. Telling her that I was trying to impress her would've made me a loser, and if she had to ask why then it probably wasn't working.

She looked out beyond the lake and toward the horizon, kicking her feet beneath the water. "Next week, if I bring my swimsuit, can we go in?"

"Next week?" My eyes snapped to hers. "You not coming tomorrow?"

"It's the weekend. My dad's home."

"Oh." I was confused by the sudden ache in my chest. "So I won't see you all weekend?"

"My dad and I are going to the hardware store to pick out paint for my new room. He said I could have the whole finished bas.e.m.e.nt to myself. It has its own bathroom. How cool is that?"

"It's cool," I said. I almost offered to help just to be around her more. But that would make me lame. And desperate. So I kept my mouth shut.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

I sat on the couch next to her. "I don't think Laney likes running," I told her.

"Well, yeah, I don't think many kids your age want to spend their summers chasing after a boy... even if he's as handsome as you."

I stayed silent, my mind lost in thought until she stopped knitting and turned to me. "Maybe you guys should do something she likes. What is she into?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "I never asked."

"Well, maybe you should, and that way you can split your time with the activities."

I picked up a random magazine off the coffee table and pretended to flip through it. "She's painting her room with her dad this weekend. You think I should call them and offer to help?"

"You can't. Garray's coming over for the weekend. You're camping out back. Don't you remember?"

"Oh yeah." After everything that had happened throughout the week, I'd almost forgotten about Garray-my best friend since first grade. His parents couldn't decide between Gary and Gray, so they called him Garray. It was a dumb name, so much so that Logan called him Dumb Name to his face. Then everyone started calling him Dumb Name behind his back. Even Dad. Mom said it was mean, but I knew she thought it was funny. "I forgot about Dumb Name."

Mom smiled, but it was sad. "Besides, I think maybe you should give the two of them the weekend. They've been through a lot, and this move was a big change for them. They need to spend some quality time together."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean they've been through a lot? Is Laney okay?"

"Oh, she's fine, Lucas."

After a beat, I asked, "Do you know what happened? Why is it just her and Brian? Did something happen to her mom? I mean, did she die or something?"

"No, sweetheart." Mom shook her head. "Some parents just don't end up together forever."

"But you and Dad will, right?"

Mom picked up her knitting needles, a wistfulness in her tone when she said, "Your dad and I are forever, Luke. Eternal. Like the rise and fall of the sun. I promise."

"Good. I'm glad her mom's not dead. I don't know what I'd do if something ever happened to you." I kissed her cheek and stood. "Besides, you're the best mom I've ever had."

"I bet you say that to all your moms."

It was a Sunday night. I remember it clearly. Garray's parents had picked him up right after dinner, and Lucy and I were cleaning the larger dishes in the sink (her washing, me drying) when the home phone rang. Dad mumbled something about telemarketers while Logan walked past, pushed all the already dry dishes back into the sink water and shouted, "Lucy Goosey! Lucas Pukas! Logan Rules!"

"Logan!" Lucy and I yelled at the same time.

Dad picked him up, threw him over his shoulder and left the kitchen.

Mom entered, cordless phone in hand, palm covering the receiver. "It's for you," she said to me, then lowered her voice. "It's Laney."

I s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from her and started running to my room, ignoring Lucy's shouts about finishing up the dishes. Twelve steps on the staircase and fourteen (eleven-year-old) steps to my room later, I was shutting the door behind me and trying to catch my breath. Not because I was exhausted, but because I was nervous. Slowly, I raised the phone to my ear. "Hey," I said.

"Hey, it's Laney."

I bit back a smile. "You calling yourself Laney, too?"

She giggled. "I figure you all do now, so I wasn't sure if you'd know it was me if I said it was Lois."

"I'd know." Even if she didn't introduce herself, I'd know. I'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"So how was your weekend?" she asked at the same time I said, "What color did you paint your room?"

"Green," she said.

"Pretty good," I answered.

Then we both laughed.

"I don't really know why I called," she murmured. "I guess I'm just used to seeing you every day and I miss you."

"You do?"

"Is that lame?"

My heart skipped a beat. "No. It was weird not having you here."

"Yeah... so..."

"So..."

She asked, "What did you do over the weekend?"

"My best friend, Garray, was here."

"Gray?"

I smiled as I sat on the edge of my bed. "No."

"Gary?"

"No." I then went on to explain how he got his name. She cracked up at the part about my family calling him Dumb Name, even though she agreed it was a little mean.

"I'm sorry I made you run the whole time you were here," I admitted. "You probably hate me."

"I'm at your house every day, Luke. I don't expect you to give up what you normally do just because I'm there. If I didn't want to hang out with you, I wouldn't have done it."

"What would you like to do, I mean, besides going swimming in our lake? Is there something else? We can do it. I don't mind."

She thought about this for a while, the static in the phone and the usual background noise of my family the only sounds I could hear. Finally, she said, "I like playgrounds,"

I laughed. I probably shouldn't have, but I did. "Aren't we a little old for playgrounds?"

"Name one time a playground hasn't been fun."

"True. There's one close by that Mom lets me and Lucy go to on our own."

"We could bring your brothers. I like them. Well, maybe not Logan. No offense... he's just so..."

"So Logan?"

We spent three hours on the phone that night-longer than I've ever spent on the phone with any other girl, but not as long as I'll spend with Laney in the future. I fell asleep with the phone to my ear-her light, quiet breaths lulling me to slumber, letting me know she'd done the same.

And so without meaning to, without wanting to, I started to fall in like with a girl who would become my best friend.

My confidant.

My courage...

...A girl who would later crush my heart and destroy me.

Chapter Four.

LOIS.

Lucas's dad practically shoved us out the front door, thanking me for breakfast and telling me that I'd helped enough and the rest of them would finish the clean-up. I had my license, but I didn't have a car, so Luke did all the driving for us. He got his license the exact day he turned sixteen. His dad had taught him how to drive on their property from the time he was twelve. His dad taught me to drive the same way, too.

Luke didn't have a car at the beginning, so he drove the minivan whenever it was available. Then later, his dad gave him the keys to the oldest, most beaten-up truck they had in the company fleet. Lucy was given their mom's old car when she got her license. He'd also built her a cabin on the property her junior year so she could get some s.p.a.ce away from all the boys. But, just like Lucas, she worked whatever available Sat.u.r.days they had doing jobs for their dad to "pay it off." Luke worked construction and Lucy did admin work in the office. When Lucy went off to college and didn't need her car anymore, she pa.s.sed it down to Leo. Even though there was no monetary value to pay off, Leo (without being asked) still worked construction-the same amount of hours as Lucy-because he knew, like all the Preston kids, that it wasn't about money. It was about the princ.i.p.al. The thing I learned quickly about the Prestons is that while they had money, they didn't flaunt it or throw it around like it meant nothing. The kids weren't spoiled, and because of their dad, they knew the value of hard work.

"I gotta get gas," Lucas says, pulling into the gas station.

I reach into my purse. "I got it."

"Shut up," he mumbles, already halfway out of the truck. He fills the tank, and when he returns from paying, he hands me a Snickers bar. Without thinking, I break it in half and give back his share.

The drive is easy-Lucas permitting me to connect my phone to his Bluetooth so I can play my music, which is Justin Timberlake's Justified alb.u.m on repeat. He says he's not a fan, but I often catch his lips moving along with the lyrics.

Forgetting that all calls go through Lucas's car speakers, I don't hesitate to answer when Dad rings. "Hey, Dad," I say in greeting.

"Your mom called," he says, and Lucas's eyes snap to mine.

"When?" he mouths.

I can already feel the sweat forming on my brow because I recognize the tone in Dad's voice-the anger mixed with worry. "When did she call?" I ask Dad.

He doesn't answer me. Instead, his voice rises, the anger overpowering his worry, and I wonder how much he knows, how much she had told him even though I begged and pleaded for her to let me be the one to break the news. "Did you forget to mention that you had dinner with her last night?"

Luke slams on the brakes so fast I have to extend my arm to catch myself on the dash. I glare at him, but he's too focused on pulling the car over in the middle of a busy fricken highway of all places. "Luke!" I shout, trying to grab onto his arm as he steps out on the road.

"Lois, why didn't you tell me?" Dad barks.

"Dad, it's-"

"What happened? What did she have to say to you?" Okay, so she must not have told him the why we met up. Just the how. And as stupid as it sounds, I'm grateful to her for that. And grat.i.tude, especially for her, isn't something that forms easily.

"Nothing," I rush out. "She was just nearby and asked to meet up. That's all. It's not a big deal, Dad. She just wanted to see how I was doing."

I give him lie.

After lie.

After lie.

Dad says my name. Just once. And I know him well enough to know it's because he has too much to say, too much insight into how my mother works. But he's built enough strength over the years to keep his thoughts to himself so I don't end up hating her as much as I know he does. But it gets worse, Dad.

"I have to go," I tell him, hanging up and opening the door so I can get to Luke. At least he's on the pa.s.senger's side now, away from the oncoming traffic of the highway. His arms are outstretched, hands resting on the hood, head lowered because he finally remembered. I try to touch him, to comfort him, but he steps back, his hands raised. "Don't," he says.

"Luke," I say with a sigh. "It's fine."

He shakes his head, refusing to meet my gaze. "It's not fine!" he shouts above the noise of the dozens of cars that seem to pa.s.s by. "I'm such an a.s.shole, Laney. You told me about the dinner. You asked me to be there for you. You even specified a time to meet you at the diner and I-"

"Forgot," I finish for him.

He starts to pace, his strides long, toes of his sneakers kicking at the loose gravel beneath our feet. "You should hate me right now. I hate me right now."

I shrug.

I did hate him.