"That's not funny," I told Chloe, forcing my eyes off Cash and continuing my mental cupcake debate. I reminded myself that I had no reason to be upset. I was with Randy. I shouldn't care about Cash at all.

Still, I couldn't fight that nagging feeling in my stomach. That irrational possessiveness over Cash. I just wanted to march over there and pull him away, keep him to myself and hide him from all the other girls.

Crap. Cash wasn't supposed to be on my mind tonight. I'd promised myself.

"I think it's funny," she teased. "Randy might not, though."

I groaned. If only she knew.

"Speaking of Randy," Chloe continued, "you should probably go find him. It's almost time for the Homecoming Court announcements."

"Yeah." I sighed. "All right. I'll be back."

I grabbed a chocolate-on-chocolate cupcake and headed off in search of Randy. Really, there was no important reason for me to find him, but I did want to be next to him when they announced that he'd won. It was just good girlfriend behavior. I should be there to smile and cheer and hug him when the "unexpected" announcement came — whether he liked it or not.

When I finally reached the other side of the gym, I found Shane leaning against the wall, sipping a Coke that was probably spiked with something. Knowing Shane, something strong.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey there, Lissa Daniels," he said. He raised his Coke. "Would you like to say hello to your distant cousin, Jack?"

"No, thank you."

Shane shrugged and took a swig of his Jack and Coke. "So what's up?"

"Not much," I said. "Where's Randy?"

And right then — when Shane's big blue eyes darted toward me and away so fast I barely noticed, and his free hand shoved forcefully into his jeans pocket — right then I knew something was wrong.

"Shane?" I asked slowly.

"He's, uh, in the bathroom. He'll be out in a minute."

I thought back to when I had been standing with Chloe next to the refreshments table. It had been a good ten minutes since I'd noticed Randy over here with Shane — way, way more time than he needed in the bathroom.

"Thanks," I said, moving around Shane and heading toward the boys' bathroom.

"What?" Shane sounded terrified as he reached for my arm with one hand while struggling to hold on to his bottle of Coke with the other. "Lissa, wait a sec. You can't go into the boys' bathroom."

I sidestepped his attempts to reach me. I wasn't just going to wait around to find out what was going on.

"Lissa, wait. You really don't want to do that — "

And I knew he was hiding something from me.

As fast as my heels allowed me to move, I shoved through the freshmen, toward the bathrooms. I pushed against the heavy

wooden door of the boys' room — a door that was supposed to be propped open by a doorstop at all times. As soon as I stepped into the tiny hallway, separated from the rest of the large bathroom by a tiled wall, I heard the noises.

A suction-y noise mixed with heavy breathing and one very female giggle.

I skirted around the wall as fast as I could, daring myself to see who was on the other side. Even though, really, I already knew.

Sure enough, there was Randy. He was with some leggy blond girl (or maybe she only looked leggy because of the way Randy had her skirt hiked up to her hips, exposing a string of her thong). They were leaning against the wall opposite the urinals — classy — with her back pressed against the tiles and his front pressing into her. They were making out in the most vulgar way possible, and by the way her fingers were scurrying across the zipper of his pants, it appeared as though the scene was about to turn into a lot more than just making out.

"Oh my fucking God."

"Lissa," Randy gasped, his mouth still only inches from The Blonde's. I hated that he said my name so close to her lips. Hated that he said my name at all. It wasn't his to say. Not anymore.

I turned and hurried out of the bathroom, back into the gymnasium.

"Lissa, hold up!"

I don't know how Randy managed to disentangle himself from The Blonde so quickly, but suddenly he was there behind me, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him.

"Don't touch me," I said, jerking out of his grip. "Just leave me alone, Randy."

"Lissa, don't be mad."

"I don't want to talk about this here," I hissed, knowing we'd already attracted the attention of a few bystanders. Deep down, I wanted to scream, How could you? What the fuck is wrong with you? But my instincts kicked in before I could do anything so dramatic. Instead, I was stiff, cut off. Chloe called me Little Miss Ice Queen, and that's how I felt. Emotionless. I was safer that way.

"You brought this on yourself, you know. I didn't have a choice," Randy snapped, not letting me go. "What was I supposed to do? Keep waiting for you? Been there, done that."

"Randy, stop."

But he didn't. He was in a rage now. Whether at me for catching him or at himself for getting caught, I don't know, but while I closed myself off, he exploded.

"You promised," Randy reminded me. I was painfully aware of how loudly he was speaking. "When we got back together at the end of the summer, you promised you'd stop being such a prude. That we'd do it. And then you went and started this stupid-ass sex strike, and what am I supposed to do? Keep waiting?"

I felt my cheeks burning, but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I couldn't believe he was saying this. Saying it in front of everyone.

"Hey," Randy called, looking away from me, his eyes searching the group around us, "just so all you girls know" — his eyes

focused on me again, steely and meaner than I'd ever seen them — "your ringleader here is a hypocrite. She's making all of you give up sex, but really, she's not giving up anything. Lissa is a virgin." It was the most spiteful look he had ever given me.

I expected there to be an audible gasp — like in movies — but there wasn't. The only sounds were the fading pulse of a techno song and a screech of feedback as the Spanish teacher, Mrs. Romali, took the stage. "Time to announce the winners of this year's Homecoming Court!" she yelled cheerfully, unaware of the humiliation I was facing.

I turned slowly away from Randy, hoping only freshmen and sophomores had gathered to witness my embarrassment. Not my friends. Not the girls. Not people I knew.

But of course I'd never get that lucky.

Among the faces staring back at me were Ellen, Kelsey, Susan, Mary, Chloe… and Cash. They'd all heard. They all knew that I was a liar.

Like I was playing Red Rover on the playground, I hurtled through the wall of people in front of me.

Red Rover, Red Rover, send Virgin right over.

This time, Randy didn't stop me. He was done embarrassing me for the night. I ran despite my heels. Despite the crowd. Despite the pain searing my calves. I ran out of the gym and through the empty hall and out the blue-and-orange double doors into the warm, welcoming arms of the parking lot.

Only it wasn't warm or welcoming. Not at all. The parking lot was chilly, a cool September breeze wafting past me, and it was empty and dark. It looked like the set of a horror film. In the dark

with all the abandoned cars, it seemed like the kind of place you'd find a dead body.

And what made it worse?

Randy had been my ride.

"Damn it," I muttered.

Then, slowly, the ice around me melted. I slammed a fist into the brick wall of the school building and choked back a burst of tears as all the emotions I'd pushed away burned through me like a wildfire.

"Lissa?"

I looked over at the exit, expecting to find Randy coming after me again, to apologize or grovel or maybe just to hurt me some more.

Instead, it was Cash.

"Leave me alone," I said automatically. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I know," he said. He looked so nice in his semiformal clothes — black dress pants and a red button-up — and I knew that his appearance wasn't what I should have been thinking about at that moment.

"What do you want?" I asked.

He hesitated. I watched as he ran a nervous hand over his cropped brown hair. "Do you need a ride home?"

I stared at him for a moment. He'd just seen an epic, soap opera–esque reveal about my love life and one of the most public breakups in Hamilton High history, yet all he could say was, Do you need a ride home?

"No."

"Lissa," he said doubtfully.

"I'll walk."

"You live six miles from here."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"I took you home after Vikki's party this summer…."

I stared at him in the dim light of the parking lot, waiting for him to finish that thought. He'd almost brought it up once before, in the library elevator, but he'd never really crossed into that territory. I wondered if he would now, if maybe he'd bring it up and I'd get the answers I'd been waiting for.

Cash cleared his throat. "I'm ready to get out of here, anyway."

I sighed. It was probably better that I didn't get my answers. I couldn't take more hurt tonight.

"Lissa? Come on. Seriously, I'll drive you."

I thought about arguing with him again, but I was too tired, too angry, and too lost to even try. He was right; I couldn't walk home, and who could I ask for a ride? I was sure Chloe and the other girls were pissed at me for how I'd misled them about my sex life, and there was no way I'd let Randy drive me home after what I'd seen.

"Fine," I muttered. "A ride home would be nice…. Thank you."