I shake my head. “There is no way I’m telling you what goes on in here.” I tap my temple with my finger. “If I did, then you might run out the door.”

“I doubt that.” He sits up straight and twists to face me. “But how about we try it and see? You tell me one thing you’re thinking, and we’ll see if it scares me enough that I run.”

“That seems like a game I’ll lose no matter what, because either you leave, or you stay here and think I’m crazy.”

“Okay, well how about this? You just tell me one thing, and I won’t think you’re crazy and I’ll stay.”

“How can you possibly predict that?” I ask amusedly. “Are you secretly a psychic?”

“I have an aunt who is,” he says in all seriousness.

“Really? That’s crazy cool. Does she, like, tell you your fortunes and everything? Do you know when you’re going to die?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m not telling you anything more until you tell me something about you.”

I give an overdramatic sigh. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I press my lips together, thinking, What could I possibly tell him about me that won’t make him think I’m crazy? All my interests are weird, and I don’t think he’d get my obsession with zombies. Maybe I could tell him some of the things I did this summer, like dancing at the club or kissing Nyle . . .

Oh, my God, why would I tell him that? “I skinny-dipped in a pool this summer.” I slap my hand over my mouth. Holy shit. Out of all the things, that’s what I decided to go with?

“You did what?” From the kitchen, Grandma Stephy stares at me in shock.

“We weren’t totally naked,” I tell her, mentally cursing myself. I’d been doing so well, lightly flirting, saying fun things, and then my weirdo gene decided to make a grand appearance.

She points the spoon she’s holding at me. “We’ll talk about this later.” She goes back to her cooking, leaving me to sit here in shame as I blush.

“You really did that?” Kyler asks, trying not to smile.

“I didn’t mean to say that aloud. I do stuff like that sometimes. Talk without thinking.” I lean back in the sofa. “But yeah, Indigo—my cousin—and I went swimming in our underwear when we were in Scotland. It was more her idea than mine. She was really big on making sure we had a ton of crazy experiences.”

“It sounds like that’s exactly what you did.” He playfully bumps knees with mine. “Maybe one day you could tell me more crazy stuff you did.”

I bite back a smile. “Maybe one day, if you’re lucky.”

He grins, totally noting my flirty tone. “Maybe when you come watch my game, we can go out and get something to eat. Hit up a party or something.”

Okay, he’s definitely asking me out. I get all giddy, but then I hesitate. I don’t know why, but at that moment, I think about Kai and the party we went to. We had so much fun. More fun than I’ve ever had. Would I have that much fun with Kyler? I’ll never know unless I go. Besides, going out with Kyler has been my dream since practically forever. I owe it to my eight-year-old self to do this. And talking with him today has been so easy.

“That sounds like fun,” I say. “And I think it has crazy adventure potential.”

“I think so too.” He glances at his watch. “You’ll have to be the leader of our little adventure. I’m not very good at impulsive things.”

“I’ll think of something,” I promise him as he glances at his watch again. Am I boring him to death?

“I still can’t believe you went to Scotland,” he says, staring at me in awe. “I mean, I knew you went somewhere for the summer, but not Scotland.”

I wonder where he thought I was this summer. Did he buy into Hannah’s mental institution thing? “Where exactly did you think I went this summer? I’m just curious.”

“I knew you went on a trip with your grandma, but Kai never said exactly where you went.” He pauses, seeming conflicted. “Were you worried about Hannah’s rumor and the mental institution thing? Because, you should know, no one believes that.”

“Really?” I hug a pillow against my chest. “Why not?”

“Kai told everyone that it wasn’t true.” He intently studies my expression. “You didn’t know that?”

“No, I didn’t. He never said anything to me about it.” My thoughts drift to Kai.

Why didn’t he tell me? I wish I knew, so I could at least thank him.

God, I need to thank him, like a lot.

“Okay, I’m new at this not-being-a-douche thing, so you can totally tell me if I’m being rude,” he says with a hint of remorse in his voice. “But the games on in, like, five minutes and I—”

I laugh, cutting him off. “Kyler, you can turn on the game. It’s cool.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.” I’m just glad I know what all the watch-checking was about.

I turn on the television for him and his attention instantly goes right to the screen. I think about sending Kai a text and thanking him, but a text doesn’t feel like the right way.

No, it should be in person.

Eventually, the air laces with the scent of soon-to-be done, yummy-in-my-tummy cookies. I’ve just started contemplating getting up and going into the kitchen, wondering if it makes me rude, when Kyler turns to me.

“You want me to explain the rules to you?” Kyler asks as a commercial comes on. “If you’re going to come watch me play, you should probably know what’s going on. That way you can cheer me on when I kick some ass.” He winks at me. “I kick ass a lot.”

“I bet you do,” I tell him, smiling from the wink. “You can try to explain the rules to me, but I’m going to warn you that I usually don’t catch on to stuff very quickly, unless I’m actually doing it.”

“I guess we’ll have to throw the ball around sometime then.” The dimple grin appears and my pulse quickens. “But I’ll try to explain it now, if that’s cool.” He gets an excited look in his eyes, like he’s pumped to be doing this.

The look is contagious and gets me pumped too, even if we’re going to be talking about football.

He faces the television again, sitting back in the chair and putting his arm on the back again. “Okay, so how much do you know about football?”

“A little bit.” I’m hyperaware that he’s playing with my hair. I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. “My dad watches it sometimes, but he’s not a fan of me being anywhere near him when he does.”

“But you’re good at sports, right?”

“I’m okay, I guess. But football’s always seemed kind of boring to me.” I offer him an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not one of those guys who thinks the game is everything. You don’t have to like it. But I want to try to get you to kind of maybe like it enough not to be bored out of your mind when you’re at my game, okay?” he asks and I nod.

He smiles and jumps right in, yammering about downs, defense and offense, goals, two point conversions. By the time he slows down, my mind is on football overdrive.

“It’s okay if you don’t get it all at first,” he says when he notes the crazed, wild-eye look I’m probably rocking.

“Good, because I’m definitely not getting it at all.” I look at the television screen. “I mean, I get the gist of it, but there’s so many rules and so many guys just running around on a field.”

“I’m probably boring you to death, aren’t I?” He shifts positions, sitting up straight and lowering his hand to his lap. “I have an idea. How about for every rule I tell you, you get to tell me one thing about comics and superheroes.”

“You know I’m into that stuff?”

He nods. “I’ve seen some of your drawings at school too. They’re pretty good.”

I mull over his offer. “All right, Kyler, you have yourself a deal.”

An hour later, he’s leaving with his freshly baked cookies and his head crammed full of superpower knowledge. I feel like I’m floating on clouds and skipping on rainbows, even if my head aches from football facts.