And I knew that the bad feelings I harbored for him blossomed, only because I saw myself in him and hated it.

The cruelty.

The frustration.

The raw brutality that lay underneath the white-tooth smile and four-figure suits.

“Threatening me? That’s fucking cute.” I grabbed the blunt, took one last hit before putting it out inside an ashtray in the middle of the coffee table. Smoke shotgunned from my flared nostrils as I spoke. “I’m not some innocent little Southern girl, Vic. I’m not afraid of you.”

Vicious stood up. “Don’t fuck it up.”

The underlining message was: but I got your back.

I messed my hair with my fist. “You didn’t fuck it up with Millie.” Thanks, bro.

“I almost did.” Don’t make my mistakes.

“I know better than you.” I wouldn’t dare.

“That’s what I’m counting on.” Then what are you waiting for? Go get her.

Dean

Whatchadoin’?

Rosie

Sorting through demos. Listening to music. Trying not to throw myself off of the balcony. You?

Dean

In-N-Out for lunch? We can go to the beach before the rehearsal. Chill.

Rosie

You asked before. The answer is still no.

Dean

Why not?

Rosie

Because of what happened last night.

Dean

What happened last night?

Rosie

Am I really that forgettable?

Dean

You said you wanted me to forget. But that was a lie, wasn’t it?

Truth was, Baby LeBlanc didn’t know what she wanted. She felt guilty, but at the same time, craved me like crack. It had always been this way, but this time around, I was going to push her around as much as I needed until she fell off her self-righteous throne.

Rosie

Stop texting me, Dean.

Dean

Saw your mom on her way to your room. She’s gonna give you crap again if you stay here. Hang out with me. I promise not to touch you.

Rosie

What’s in it for you?

Dean

You.

Simple. Honest. True.

I’d wanted her ever since Millie left. Probably before that. Fine, definitely before that. But I waited it out, knowing my place. If Jacob could be patient, so could I.

She didn’t answer straightaway; therefore, she was debating this. Rosie wanted to see me. This week was difficult for her. I gave her another nudge.

Dean

I wanna learn more about your music. You wanna get the fuck out of here. We’ll make it to the rehearsal in a timely manner.

Rosie

Dean…

Dean

No touching.

Rosie

Okay.

Little victories.

I was about to stand up and walk to her room when my phone lit and a call came through. Nina. I knew why she was calling, and I was tempted to answer. She had something of mine that I wanted, but the price I had to pay to get to him was too damn high. Not the money, even though she requested lots and lots of it. Her freedom.

She used to have it all. My time. My heart. My devotion. And she threw it all away.

I was a fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, you’re fucking good-as-dead kind of guy. I didn’t believe in second chances unless it was with Rosie. So I let her go, merely keeping her alive.

I shouldn’t have wanted to answer that phone so bad and end this.

End all the question marks, the torturous wondering, swimming in the unknown.

I shouldn’t have. But I did.

Eleven Years Ago

What makes you feel alive?

My family. Their imperfections. Their fierce love. Their unconditional worry. Their dedication to a lost cause. To me.

THE NIGHT BEFORE MILLIE LEFT for New York wasn’t much different than any other night. We slept in the same bed, even though we had separate rooms. Feet on the wall, staring at the ceiling, hugging a pillow or each other. That was our signature position. Sometimes it was my bed. Sometimes it was hers. I hated that I loved sleeping in her bed because it smelled like him. They weren’t having sex, but his scent was everywhere.

On her sheets. On her desk. In my soul.

This time we were in my room, and the glow-in-the-dark stars gazed back at us. I always loved stars. They reminded me how small my problems were in this big universe.

“Dean and I slept together,” she croaked into the gloom and took my hand in hers. I stiffened, my eyes fluttering shut. Think about stars.

Everything stopped. My lungs burned, my body ached, and tears burned the back of my nose. The room grew darker; my breaths became heavier. She didn’t know. My sister, who was so perceptive, knew everything about me, about my body, about my health, my friends and taste in music, didn’t even know what her boyfriend did to me. Just hearing his name made my heart prickle. My stomach flipped, wave after wave of warmth swirling inside it. But, of course, she was blind to my feelings. She was too busy with hers.

“Was it good?” I faked a smile. And I hated her. And I hated him. But most of all, I hated myself.

She shrugged one shoulder. It brushed against mine. “It was a mistake.”

“You think?”

“I know.” We were still staring at the ceiling and not at each other, and for that, I was grateful. “Our whole relationship is. I think he’s with me because he tries to protect me from Vicious. He doesn’t understand it only fuels the fire in this guy.”

“And you?” I managed to ask through the ball of tears twisting in my throat.

“And me…” Her grip on my hand tightened. “I like Dean. Who doesn’t? He is the definition of fun. But I don’t…”

Love him. Like I do.

“We’re trying to make us happen, but there’s something missing. The magic. He says he’s in this one hundred percent. He acts this way, too. He never asked me about Harvard, though. Not that I blame him, but he just applied, enrolled, and made plans without me. Anyway…it’s cool. It’s not like I want to go with him. Hey, Rosie?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your dream?”

I blinked one time, then another. She didn’t know it, but I was fighting tears, and not just because she had lost her virginity to the guy I loved.

“I don’t have a dream.” The answer came after a few seconds of me trying to regulate my pulse.

“Why?”

“Because what’s the point? I won’t have time to pursue it.”

Instead of arguing, Millie took a different approach. She tilted her body in my direction, brushed my cheek with her thumb, and asked, “And if time wasn’t an issue?”

“Then…I guess to be a mother would be nice. I mean, yeah, I want to be financially independent. Maybe become a graphic designer or a nurse or whatever. But what I really want is to take care of someone and love them wholly and unconditionally. And, of course, do it someplace cool.”

“I think you’d make a great mama. Where would you live if you had the chance?” She smiled. I didn’t know where she was going. I didn’t know she was going at all.

“New York?” I contemplated. “Yeah. The Big Apple. Seems like a good place to disappear in.”

She smiled in the darkness. “Then that’s where I’ll take you.”

Eleven Years Ago

I bumped knuckles with Matt Burton after the game, kicking off the heavy mud from my feet. Football season was over months ago, and we’d graduated a week ago, but we sometimes played scrimmages in neighboring cities. Especially with other private schools that were part of the crazy expensive football program All Saints High signed up for every year. This time we were in Sausalito. We’d won. With Trent riding the bench and watching us play—his cast was yellow, old, and smelled like a stale fart—it was my job to guide the Saints of All Saints High from a twenty-five-point hole against the St. John’s Rangers. It was impossible, until it wasn’t, and we scored nineteen points in the final quarter. We made all the plays. We were fucking fantastic, and as the first quarterback playing his very last game for his high school, I didn’t fail to notice—Vicious’s absence in the game (Hawaii vacation) made no difference at all.

Not only did we not need him, but his temper and rah-rah crap proved to be distracting. Case in point, we’d lost the previous flag football game in Monterey, and he was there, double douche canoe galore.

“Gotta love the scrimmages.” Burton slapped my back, and I did the same to him. Jaime approached me, his blond hair dripping sweat to his forehead and messing up his war paint. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into a hug.

“Amazing throw.” He rubbed the dark strips on my cheek like he was my fucking girlfriend.

“Amazing everything, dude. It’s me.” I kissed each of my biceps, looking dead serious but obviously screwing around. He punched my pecs and laughed as we all made our way in the rain back to Coach Rowland. Twenty minutes later we were taking showers, getting ready to hop on the bus back to Todos Santos. We’d be sleeping through the nine-hour ride, but it was a small price to pay for all that glory.

After I got out of the showers, I pulled fresh clothes from my duffel bag, ready to get dressed. As I did, a note fell out, drifting to the floor. I caught it before it got wet, recognizing my girlfriend’s handwriting. Did she leave me a good luck letter? That wasn’t out of character for Millie. She was so fucking sweet, it sometimes felt like too much. A casual smile stamped on my face, I began to read.

Dean,

This is the most difficult thing I’ve had to do. I’m not even sure how to start. The one thing I want you to know before you read this is that it’s not you. I care about you so much. You’ve given me what no one else in this town ever has. Security, respect, time, and love.

My smile melted into a frown. It didn’t sound like a good luck letter. It sounded like a goodbye letter. Someone slapped my back as they made their way to another bench in the locker room, and someone else shouted next to my ear. They were all tuned out.

I have to go away. Trust me when I say I have to. Something has happened that I cannot undo. Since the last thing I want is to complicate your life, I need to leave you behind. Please don’t try to find me. It will only make matters worse. I want you to follow your dreams and live your life.