“And you’re mine. I want more from you

and I’m begging you to please give me more.”

My throat becomes raw and slowly swells.

“But you’re my best friend.”

His fingers gently move against my cheek.

“You want to leave, I’ll go. I’ll take you now.

We’ll get in my car, find your mom, and we’ll never look back. Your terms. Not mine.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Just say the words. Please say them.”

I love him.

Those words. My hand presses against his

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chest. His heart continues in the same

steady beat I’ve come to depend upon. Isaiah is my rock. The string that holds me together when I’m ready to fall apart. He’s the anchor that keeps me from floating away when I go too far. His heart has been the one constant rhythm in my life and I don’t want to let it go.

“I love you.”

Isaiah tucks his chin toward his chest and I force air into my lungs when he clears his throat. “You’ve got to mean it.”

I try to physically shake the tears forming, but his hold on my face makes it impossible.

We haven’t talked for weeks, but I knew, in the deep recesses of my mind, that our separation was temporary. This somehow feels too real and that means this goodbye could be concrete.

I can’t lose him. I can’t. “I mean it. I love you.”

Like a friend. Like my best friend. Before Groveton, I never understood love and now…I still don’t understand it. But I know that it’s not emptiness, I know it’s not letting a guy use me, I know there are different types and what I feel for Isaiah…it’s not how I feel when I’m with Ryan.

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Isaiah rests his forehead on mine. “Like

you love him. Tell me you love me as much as you love him.”

Ryan. Am I in love with him? The thought

causes panic. Just the sound of his name causes my heart to trip over itself. I love the way Ryan makes me feel. I love his words. I love his hands on my body. I love the way his gaze causes me to blush.

But I have to leave Ryan soon in order to protect my mom. If I say the right words, Isaiah will go with me. “Isaiah, I…”

Once upon a time, I wondered if I was

falling in love with Isaiah. Echo had hugged him and he happily hugged her back. The pain and jealousy that shot through my body

surprised even me. But I wasn’t falling for him. I was scared of Echo. Scared of the

changes she was bringing to our lives. Changes that would have happened even if she had

never existed.

I stare into his gray eyes. Isaiah’s wrong; he doesn’t love me. Not in the way he thinks. The truth is there—in his eyes. He doesn’t look at me the way Noah does Echo or how Chris does Lacy. He doesn’t look at me the way Ryan

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does.…

“I love you…”

I love Isaiah’s safety and I love his calm. I love his voice and his laughter. I love his constant, steady presence. But if the world were coming to an end, he’s not the person I’d want at my side. I love him. I love him so much that I know he deserves to have a girl who falls apart at his touch. He deserves to have a girl whose heart stops working every time he glances at her. He deserves someone who is “in” love with him.

“…as a friend. The same way that you love me.”

Isaiah shakes his head, as if doing that will make my words less true. “You’re wrong.”

He presses his lips against my forehead. My lower lip trembles as I ball the material of his shirt into my hand. I’m losing him. I’m losing my best friend.

“I’m not,” I say. “And someday you’re

going to figure it out.”

“If you change your mind…” There’s a

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lasting longer, the pressure more intense.

Isaiah walks away from me and fades into the darkness.

“I won’t,” I whisper as I close my eyes and wish that one day, he’ll change his.

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Ryan

BETH ASKED FOR TIME. How long does she

need? A day? A week? Hours? Any amount is too long when the girl I’m falling for had tears in her eyes. Any amount is too long when I wonder if she cares for me. I won’t see her until Tuesday. Tomorrow is parent–teacher conferences. Today is Sunday and my parents are hosting a barbecue for the mayor, the town council, and a few other friends of our family.

I’m dressed up and playing the perfect part.

Perfect.

It’s what Lacy called me when she explained why she would never fit into Groveton.

Perfect.

It’s what Beth spat at me when she refused the trust fall.

Perfect.

It’s the word Gwen just used when

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discussing how she wants the two of us to walk onto the football field together for homecoming.

Perfect.

Looking out on our back patio, I see nothing but boring perfection. The grass trimmed

perfectly to three inches. The shrubs perfectly edged in the shape of round balls. The pots of fall chrysanthemums lining the edging of the patio perfectly placed one foot apart. Perfect people who grew up in this town and perfectly filled their parents’ shoes.

At the other end of the table, my mother

inclines her head toward Gwen. I take the nonverbal cue and turn my attention to my

“dinner partner.” Gwen gives me a smile that’s one more perfect thing in the backyard.

“Wouldn’t that be awesome, Ryan?”

No, walking onto the field with her on my arm at homecoming wouldn’t be awesome. I

want to share that moment with Beth. “I’m not sure we get to decide who we walk with.”

Gwen ignores my comment. “Could you

pour me some more water?”

I reach for the pitcher in front of me and do as she asks. This is my obligation to my

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parents. My job is to fill Gwen’s drink

when it’s empty, remove her dishes when she’s done, and to entertain her. Déjà vu sets in and my head swims with a sinking revelation. This same exact moment is how Gwen and I started dating.

Gwen’s mother sips her wine. Her face is

tighter than it was last fall. “We need to make a decision regarding Allison Risk and the event committee at church.”

Mom fidgets with her pearl necklace. She

hates uncomfortable decisions. “Allison is a sweet young woman.”

“Are you in favor of her joining, Miriam?”

Gwen’s mother asks.

Uncharacteristically, my mother pours wine into her empty water glass. “I don’t know. The Risks were dreadful people. Do you remember Scott’s parents? The man was a mean drunk and the woman wasn’t much better.”

“But Scott’s not his parents,” I say and

everyone at the table glances at me. My mother shoots me a warning glare, but my father puts a hand on my mother’s arm to back her off.

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the Yankees have seen in twenty years.

Why should his wife be punished for his

parents’ mistakes?”

Dad’s eyes narrow on the last sentence. His own private warning to me that I may have gone too far.

“I have to be honest,” says Gwen’s mother.

“I am fond of Allison, but it’s the niece I’m concerned with.”

“How so?” asks my mother as I stiffen.

“Have you heard anything about her?”

“I’ve heard she smokes, was disrespectful to a teacher, and swears. All traits we cannot condone, and putting Allison on the committee will reflect upon our church. Which is so sad, since Allison is a dear and the niece is…”

Gwen’s mother flitters her fingers in the air.

“Savage. It’s obvious that the girl didn’t go with Scott like we hoped after the incident with her father.”