I feel the heat from his body next to me, and I time the rise and fall of his chest, finding myself matching it.

“I got a lot of crap,” I continue, remembering the snide comments every time I bent over or leaned into a car. “Teenage guys can be…”

“Yeah,” Pike finishes for me knowingly, humor in his voice. We exchange a grin.

He used to be a teenage guy, too, after all, I guess.

“There was a guy named Nick who always got people off my back,” I go on, remembering. “He was nice to me and talked to me. He didn’t leer or act immature.”

I absently rub my finger over the scar.

“One day he invites me to hang out, and he brings Cole along.” I look over at Pike, the anger from earlier suddenly gone now. “We all became friends, had a lot of fun, and I think I became closer to them than I have been to anyone. Except my sister, that is.”

He nods, looking like he’s thinking. And then he asks, “And you and Cole started dating? How did Nick take that?”

I turn my eyes back out at the pool, taking in a deep breath. “He never knew,” I say quietly.

Pike remains quiet, the tension in the air thick now. I said he never knew. Not he doesn’t know.

I clear my throat. “One night, a couple years ago, before Cole and I were seeing each other,” I tell him. “He and Nick were out together. Cole had too much to drink, and he passed out. Nick caught a ride home with someone else.”

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and my mouth is so dry.

“The driver lost control of his truck, it rolled, and all the kids in the back of the bed went tumbling out.”

“Oh, my God,” he says under his breath, dropping his head.

I finish. “Nick was caught under. He died a couple days later.”

I squeeze my fists to try to keep from crying. He was the only person I knew who died. It wasn’t like my mom leaving. Nick didn’t want to go. He lived for video games, and his hair was always hanging over his glasses, and I miss all of his quirks.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to his little brother’s Nerf gun that we all used and all skinned our thumbs on.

“Jesus Christ,” Pike mumbles. “How did I not know about that? I faintly remember hearing something, but I didn’t know Cole was friends with anyone in that accident.”

I sit up straight and nod. “Yeah, Cole…” I pause, trying to find my words. “He had a hard time getting over it.”

Pike’s eyes narrow on me.

“He was supposed to be Nick’s ride that night,” I explain.

Realization crosses his face, and I’m sure he feels like he should know all this, but it makes sense Cole wouldn’t tell many people. He was ashamed.

“We didn’t let each other out of our sight after that,” I tell him.

I was hurting, Cole was hurting, and I was the only one who knew why he felt responsible, so I was the only one he could talk to.

And after a while, it just became habit. Us, side by side. Us, turning to each other. Us, wanting what was familiar, constant, and safe.

Us, holding onto Nick by holding onto each other. We both found ourselves desperate for one true friend. He and I hurting over Nick, but also me just getting away from my ex-boyfriend. It was so easy to dive into each other and escape. So easy.

“I’m so sorry, Jordan,” Pike says. “Are you okay?”

I peer up at him.

“Sorry.” He falters, looking away. “It’s stupid to ask that now, I guess.”

No, not stupid at all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.

“Everything’s fine. Or it will be,” I say. “It has to be.”

He darts his gaze to me again, and I gesture to the pool.

“I sat at the bottom of a dark pool with my eyes closed until I couldn’t hold my breath anymore. It has to be okay now, right?” I ask.

He snorts, his mouth turning up in a grin.

He rises and holds out his hand again, and this time I take it. He pulls me up, and we head for the house, but I notice the candle still burning on the wooden table.

Darting over, I lean across the table, close my eyes, and blow, the candle extinguishing. Turning back, I follow him up the steps.

“Can I ask you another question?” he prods.

“Shoot.”

“Why do you do that?” He glances back at me.

“What?”

“The closing-your-eyes-to-blow-out-a-candle thing,” he explains. “I’ve seen you do it a few times now.”

I shrug, not realizing he’d noticed. I thought I’d gotten pretty good at doing it quickly and under the radar.

“Just a quirk.” I follow him through the screen door. “Birthday wishes don’t always come true, so I don’t waste a chance when I blow out a candle.”

Jordan

“Hey, can you pick me up at two?” I pin the telephone between my ear and shoulder as I count out my bank and put it in the register. “Ash didn’t come in. Her baby’s sick, and I don’t have another ride.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cole says. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

After our last fight, the aftermath progressed exactly like I predicted. He came home buzzed and relaxed, crawled into bed, and we cuddled it out. Things have almost gotten back to normal—or what our normal is, anyway—enough that I didn’t mind when he tried to pull me into the shower this morning. However, when we got into our bathroom, we discovered his dad had ripped out the sink and had started tearing away the tiles in our shower, our bathroom the next thing on his renovation list. How had we slept through that? And what time did he get up this morning?

“I’ll be done at two,” I state again, closing the register drawer.

“Yep, got it. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I reply and hang up.

Pike has been working on my car, and in an effort to smooth things over, I’m sure, Cole actually helped today. I’m not sure how I’m going to repay his dad, though, because I know he’s spending money on parts, even though he acts like he got the new exhaust cheap or just had those new tires laying around. I’ve been trying to go above and beyond in the house, doing things like making breakfast for everyone this morning and cleaning out from under the cushions on the couch. I even planted some flowers in the backyard, around the border, to help the aesthetic, which Pike agreed to as long as I don’t bring flowers in the house. I laugh, thinking about how grumpy he can be sometimes. It’s pretty funny.

Hours later, exhausted and my feet aching in my Chucks, I can’t wait to get back to the house, either. Home and in bed. I’m so tired.

Tying my hair up in a ponytail, I count out the bank, put it back in the tray, and slide the tray into the safe. After I cover the liquor bottles, finish the dishes, and turn off the lights, I peer out the window, seeing Cole’s car by the curb. I smile, delighted he’s on time.

I blow the out the remaining candles on the bar, closing my eyes and taking a breath each time. I hope tomorrow is better than today. It’s my go-to wish when I don’t have anything else in mind, and every day that passes, I’m trying to get closer to making it come true.

I grab my book bag, stuffing my tips in the pocket and head out the door, locking it behind me. The fresh air feels good in my lungs, and I toss my bag through the open back window before opening the passenger side door. I slide into the front seat, turning my tired but grateful smile on Cole.

“Hey—” I stop, my smile immediately falling.

Jay, my ex, sits in the driver’s seat. I look over my shoulder, making sure I didn’t miss Cole passed out in the backseat, but it’s empty.

My hands tremble. “Where’s Cole?”

Jay cocks his head, looking apologetic. “He’s wasted, babe. The guys didn’t want to let him drive.” His arm rests over the back of my seat, his hand inches from my hair and neck. “He’s sleeping it off at Bentley’s house. They told him someone would make sure you got home. I volunteered.”

No. Nuh-uh. Not a chance.

I don’t hesitate. Pulling the handle, I swing my door open and jump out, reaching into the backseat and retrieving my bag. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I can grab a ride from Shel. She’s still inside.”

“No, she’s not. You just locked up.”

I knew he would challenge me. Nothing gets by him.

An eerie calmness laces his voice, but I know it’s only skin deep. “Come on, I’m already here,” he presses. “You don’t want me to have to have come out here for nothing, do you?”

I lean down, glaring into his dark brown eyes as I simultaneously fish the bar keys back out of my back pocket. “I didn’t ask you to come. And like I said, I have another ride.”

Turning around, I hurry for Grounders’ entrance and quickly unlock the door.

“Jordan!” I hear him bark.

I yank the door open and step inside, casting a stern look back at him as he still sits planted in the car. “Go home.”

And I pull the door closed again, twisting the lock and backing away like he’s going to try to bust it down. I stay there, breathing hard and shaking.

He won’t let that slide. He won’t do anything tonight, because he would’ve been out of the car faster than I could make it to the bar door if he was going to try, but he’ll be pissed enough to not forget.

He was a six-month-long mistake I made in high school, but I won’t be that stupid again. My guard is up now.

And he didn’t come to give me a ride home tonight. Not directly, anyway. Maybe after he was done with me.

I close my eyes, trying to drown out the memory of him pounding on my car window one night as I frantically tried to get my key in the ignition. I can still feel the fire on my scalp from where he yanked my hair.

I turn away and open my eyes, pushing away the thoughts. After a moment, I hear the engine roar past the bar and the tires screech down the street.

He’s gone.