“Shh… Whitley, it’s okay.”

My eyes found Harrison’s, and a sigh of relief exploded from my lips.

“Thank you,” I murmured, trying to sit up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to lie back down. “Don’t get up yet, okay? Nathan is on his way.”

“What?”

“I called him.”

“Forget those thank-yous.”

I didn’t want Nathan to see me like this. I didn’t want him to know how badly I’d screwed up this time, how right he’d been about me. That I was a drunk and a whore. This was my fault, just like what had happened to Bailey was my fault. I didn’t want him to see that he’d been right.

“He’s coming to take you home,” Harrison said, sitting down next to me on the bed. I figured we must be in his room. The clock on the wall said it was just after three, which meant I hadn’t been out for long.

“But what about our slumber party?” I asked.

“It can wait,” he said, squeezing my hand. “You should go home tonight, sweetie.”

“I’d rather stay here.” But I knew I wouldn’t be good company for the fun sleepover I’d promised him.

“We’ll have a real slumber party before the summer’s over,” he said. “Just not tonight.”

I rolled onto my back again, looking over at Harrison. “So, how did you find us?” I asked. “Theo and me… How did you know to look for us?”

“I found your purse on the picnic table,” he said. “And my sister said she saw you hanging out with Theo. He’s not a good guy, Whitley. He’s my sister’s on-again, off-again thing, but they pretend to be friends when they’re off. It’s weird…. Anyway, he’s a jerk. I got worried. So I checked the front of the house and I heard you yelling, and there you were.”

“There we were,” I whispered.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “I’m just really, really drunk.”

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

“Screw you.”

“You wish you could.”

I laughed, but it hurt my head, so I stopped. “Ow…”

Harrison smiled. He placed his large hands gently on my shoulders and pulled me upright. “Easy,” he murmured, just as the doorbell rang in the next room.

“You should get back to the party,” I said when he slid an arm around me, walking me into the living room. “I’m making you be a bad host.”

“Party’s over,” he said. “I kicked everyone out after I carried you inside.”

“Christ.” I dropped my head. “I’m so sorry. I totally ruined your party.”

He squeezed my shoulder as we reached the front door. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I didn’t give a shit about the party. I only threw it because you wanted me to. You’re what I care about.”

I smiled and clumsily kissed his cheek. “Why do you have to be gay?”

“That’s just how God made me.” He reached out with his free hand and opened the door, already wearing his flirty smile. “Hey there.”

Nathan was standing on the front porch, dressed in the same battered blue jeans and black T-shirt he’d had on that morning. His hair was messier than usual, which meant he’d been asleep when Harrison called.

“Whitley…”

His dark eyes passed carefully over me, as if he was checking to make sure every part was still intact. When he looked into my face a moment later, he seemed relieved… and kind of sad. The expression reminded me of one Sylvia used right before she tried to hug me, and for a second I expected Nathan to extend his arms and pull me to him.

But he restrained himself. Instead, he turned to Harrison and said, “Thank you so much for calling me.”

“Get her home safe,” Harrison said, easing me onto the porch. I stumbled a little, and Nathan reached out to hold me up the way Harrison had.

“I can walk,” I told them, though that obviously wasn’t true.

“She’s very drunk,” Harrison said. “She had a lot of vodka.”

Nathan sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Harrison. You know, she’s lucky to have you. Anyone would be.”

Why were they talking about me like I wasn’t there?

Harrison grinned. “You can have me anytime,” he said.

The way Nathan laughed made it clear that he thought Harrison was joking. But of course I knew he wasn’t. Poor Harrison would never have a chance with Nathan. But still, I was grateful to him for keeping it light tonight.

“See you later,” Nathan said, hauling me down the front steps toward his Honda.

“Bye!” Harrison called after us. “Be careful. Good night, Whitley. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” I tried to yell, but it came out more like a croak as my knees began to shake beneath my weight.

“Careful,” Nathan said, holding me up as he opened the passenger’s side door. He helped me inside and made sure I got my seat belt buckled before shutting the door. He smelled fresh as he leaned across me, a little spicy, and his messy hair tickled my neck. I held my breath until I was buckled in. A second later, he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice so low that I barely heard it over the sound of the purring engine.

“Fine.”

I saw his mouth open, like he might say something, but he shut it again, very slowly. The car began moving, turning around in the gravel driveway and rolling down the long, winding path to the highway with a slightly rocky bounce. Nathan stared out the windshield, his eyes never darting in my direction. He didn’t know what to say, either, I guess.

I rolled my head to the other side and stared out the window. We were away from the trees now, and fireworks were shattering the darkness all around us. They’d probably be going all night, scattering temporary multicolored stars across the sky. Pinks. Blues. Greens. Reds. I was surprised they didn’t give me a headache. I actually found them kind of peaceful in a weird way.

“Don’t take me back,” I whispered, the words leaving my mouth before I even realized I was going to say them.

“What?”

“Don’t take me to the house.” My eyes stayed focused on the fireworks. Bottle rockets flew up out of someone’s backyard. “Can we go somewhere else?”

“Um… sure. Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

After a moment, Nathan just said, “Okay.”


“Where are we?” I asked as Nathan pulled the Honda into an unfamiliar parking lot. The building in front of us looked old and shabby. shay’s diner was written on a lopsided sign above a cracked glass door. The windows glowed with a painful fluorescent light that made my head pound.

“It’s the only place I could find open this late,” Nathan said.

He unfastened his seat belt and climbed out of the car. With a sigh, I did the same.

“You said anywhere,” he reminded me as he took hold of my elbow and helped me walk inside.

“Guess I did,” I mumbled.

The place had those annoying bells that jingled every time someone walked in or out the door, and the waitress behind the counter called, “Hey, y’all!” the second she heard them. Like it was an automatic response. What a sad job to have. Greeting insomniacs at three in the morning with a stupid fake Southern accent. Not to mention the humiliation of wearing that horrific apron. I kind of felt bad for this chick.

“Good morning,” Nathan said, all friendly and cheerful. What a dork. “Can I get a coffee, please? Black. And a couple pieces of toast.”

“No problem, sweetheart.” She probably loved boys like Nathan. So polite and courteous. Of course, at this time of night, any guy who didn’t smack her ass must have seemed like a godsend.

He walked me to a booth with a sticky table and slid into the seat across from me. A second later, the waitress appeared and placed a mug and a plate of toast in front of Nathan. She was in her mid-forties, with reddish-brown hair and a round face. She looked so warm and sunny. Not the kind of woman you’d expect to meet at a dirty diner in the wee hours of the night.

“There you are, baby,” she said to Nathan. “You just holler if you need anything else.”

Okay. So, maybe her accent wasn’t fake. She sounded Texan, or maybe Alabamian. I could never tell the difference.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anything for you, honey?” she asked me.

I shook my head and curled into a ball where I sat, my feet in the booth, knees to my chest. I could still feel Theo’s hands on my hips, his breath on my face. Like a ghost. Gone, but not gone.

“All right. Just let me know.” She walked back to the counter, her hips swaying to the beat of the country song that played from the ancient-looking jukebox in the corner.

I glanced around. Other than the waitress, Nathan and I were the only people in the diner.

“I guess Hamilton doesn’t have many night owls.”

“It must not,” he agreed. “Here. Drink and eat this.” He shoved the toast and mug toward me.

“Ew,” I said, shoving the coffee back across the table. “No. I hate coffee.” I didn’t mind toast, though, so I picked up a piece and took a bite.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Whit, just drink it. It’ll help you sober up. Well, okay, scientifically it won’t, but I swear, it’ll make you feel soberer. The toast will help, but—”

“I don’t want to.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” I snapped. We glared at each other for a long moment before I gave in and took the mug from him. To be honest, I was really, sickly drunk, and anything that might make me feel better was welcome… even if it did taste like shit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nathan laughed as I lifted a hand to pinch my nose. “Are you six years old or what?”

“Shut up.” I took a deep breath through my mouth and raised the mug to my lips. It was scalding hot, and the nose-holding thing didn’t do much to mask the coffee’s bitter taste. It took all of my strength to swallow a few gulps without spitting it out.