"I don't understand," Zach said, for what had to be the tenth time in the last five minutes.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, hoping the sting would distract my mind from the gnawing ache in the center of my chest. "I'm so sorry, Zach." How many more times would I have to apologize for breaking his heart?

"But you still haven't given me a reason. Did I do something wrong?"

I couldn't answer that question, if only because there was no rational explanation for why I had decided to break up with my boyfriend of the past three years. All I knew was that our relationship had run its course and it was time to move on. That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said. "I just need some space. I need to think about things, okay?"

"What things, Blake? You're not making any sense. Is this because I went to the gym with Gabe today instead of the party with you?"

"No, of course not."

"Because I told Gabe that I'd rather go to the party. You know how he can be when he doesn't get his way."

"I know, and that's not it."

"Well . . . it has to be something," he said, grasping. "Is there another guy?"

"No!"

My firm denial and the silence that followed said otherwise, though. I squeezed my eyes shut again and held my breath, waiting for him to say something.

"I love you," he said, at last, his voice cracking. "Doesn't that mean anything?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I love you, too—I do—and that will never change. But I don't know . . . I don't know why . . . I'm just really confused right now."

"You're not thinking straight," Zach agreed. "Maybe you're, I don't know, about to get your period. You know how emotional you get right before that happens."

Ignoring the comment about my menstrual cycle, I instead tried to think of another plausible explanation for why I had suddenly decided to end things with Zach. Still, all my thoughts raced back to John. I'd had an undeclared crush on him since freshman year, but not once had I felt inclined to act on it. So what was the reason for my bizarre behavior now?

"You're right," I said. "I'm not thinking straight, which is why I need some time to figure things out."

Zach's voice was thick when he answered. "Fine, Blake. Take some time. But not too much time," he added in a rush. "I miss you already."

I swiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. "I'll talk to you later, Zach."

Disconnecting the call, I fell back on my bed. I rolled over and smashed my face into my pillow, hoping I would asphyxiate and put an end to this terrible feeling. I hated myself.

What had compelled me to break up with Zach? I wasn't lying when I said I loved him, and yet my mind kept drifting back to the few strange yet exhilarating hours John and I had spent together that afternoon. Crush or no crush, I barely knew the guy. So what if there'd been a spark between us? So what if his kiss had made my knees tremble? That didn't change how I felt about Zach. He was my rock, my number-one guy, the absolute love of my life.

But that kiss . . .

That damn kiss!

Groaning with frustration, I lobbed the pillow across the room. My entire body buzzed with the memory of John's lips pressed against mine. Putting my hand to my mouth, I closed my eyes and recalled his face in perfect detail—the deep green eyes, the sharp slope of his nose and cheekbones, the perfect shape of his lips. Unfortunately, the side of my hand felt nothing like John's mouth, and I let my arm flop at my side.

"What is wrong with me?"

Desperate for answers, I grabbed my cell and Facetimed Olivia. "How's your sister?" I said when she connected.

"You spent the afternoon with John Kelly and you're asking about my sister?"

"Excuse me for being concerned."

"Eleanor's fine," Olivia said impatiently. "Three stitches. Not too bad. Mom's got a migraine and is threatening to take away their big-kid beds and reassemble their cribs. Satisfied? Now spill. What's up with you and Mr. Mysterious? I've never even seen you speak to the guy and suddenly you're hanging out together?"

"Nothing is up with me and John."

"Right," she said. Judging by the tone of her voice, I wasn't fooling her. "Just don't do anything stupid, like break up with Zach."

"Uh . . ."

Olivia gasped. "You didn't! Please tell me you didn't break up with him."

"I did," I answered, my admission of guilt coming out in a horrified whisper. "I just got off the phone with him."

"What would possess you to do such a thing?"

"I don't—"

"Hold that thought. I'm coming over." Olivia's face disappeared from the screen.

I plucked a tissue from the box and blew my nose, which had started to run with the onslaught of fresh tears. A few minutes later my door swung open and Olivia planted herself in the middle of my bed.

"Tell me everything."

I shook my head. "I don't know what happened, Libby. Everything was fine between Zach and me when I woke up this morning, and now it's . . . not."

Olivia scowled. "This is all John's fault. I should never have left you alone with him. Nothing good ever comes of hot, mysterious guys."

"You think he's hot?"

She rolled her eyes. "Grudgingly. That doesn't change the fact he's strange."

"He's actually very nice," I said, sniffing. "He took me to The Market and bought me lunch."

"I don't care if he took you on a shopping spree and bought you a pair of Givenchy boots, there's something about that guy I don't like."

"You're dating Gabe," I pointed out. "It's possible you don't have the best judgment when it comes to guys."

Olivia leveled her gaze at me. "I know exactly what kind of guy Gabe is." Rising, she snagged a spiral notebook and pen from my desk before rejoining me on the bed. "So you broke up with Zach, right?"

I nodded, wondering what she had in mind.

"And you seem pretty miserable about it."

I blew my nose and nodded again.

"So let's make a 'pros and cons' list to help you decide whether or not you should stay broken up."

"All right," I said, figuring it was the best idea anyone had had so far.

Biting off the cap, Olivia spat it out on the duvet like a wad of chewed gum. I looked distastefully at it and flicked it away, but she just ignored it.

"Let's start with the pros," she said. "What did, or rather, do, you like about Zach?"

"He's nice," I said without hesitation.

It was true. Zach was hands-down the nicest guy I knew. Everyone at school adored him. His parents were convinced he could do no wrong. My mom and dad thought the sun shined out of his—.

"Be more specific," Olivia said, interrupting my thoughts. "What about him is nice?"

I picked up my stuffed bear, drawing strength from its wide brown eyes as I rubbed the remnants of the paper-thin tag between my thumb and middle finger. It was something I'd done for as long as I could remember, like how some kids suck their thumb or twist their hair when they need comforting.

Olivia grabbed the bear and chucked him over her shoulder. "Concentrate, Blake. Do you want my help or not?"

"I do want your help," I said with an exasperated sigh. "The pros. Let's see." I snapped my fingers as a thought came to me. "For one thing, John is really cute."

Olivia stopped writing and gave me a sharp look, her blue eyes narrowing. Tapping the notebook with the end of the pen, she said, "Did you happen to hear yourself? We're not talking about John. We're talking about Zach. The boy you claim to love, remember? The boy you've been dating since we were freshmen?"

"That's what I meant to say—Zach is really cute. And another thing," I added quickly to compensate, "is that Zach is smart. He's in the top ten percent of our class. I like intelligent men, and who knows what kind of grades John makes?"

Olivia shook her head, her broad forehead wrinkling. "Blake, we're not trying to decide which guy you should choose. We're trying to decide if you should get back together with Zach. Is there something else going on that you're not telling me about?"

"No," I said. "Maybe. I don't know!"

Olivia put down the notebook and pen with exaggerated patience and folded her hands primly in her lap. "Did something happen between you and John today? Did you two, you know . . . Because things have a way of becoming infinitely more complicated once you exchange saliva and grope each other's squishy parts."

Standing to avoid her gaze, I began pacing the floor of my room. "We did not grope each other's squishy parts as you so eloquently put it."

"Did you kiss him?" she asked, undeterred.

"Only because he kissed me first!" I said, my voice rising. "I didn't ask him to. He just did!"

"People usually give off signals that they want to be kissed."

"Are you saying it was my fault?" I exclaimed, rounding on her. "Because it wasn't."

Olivia held up her hands. "I'm not saying it was anyone's fault. All I'm saying is that he kissed you because he most likely thought you wanted him to."

My face burned with anger. How dare she suggest I'd been leading him on! And yet, when I stopped to think about it, she was right. Earlier that afternoon, my traitorous mind had wondered what it would feel like to kiss John. Still, that didn't mean I didn't love Zach.

"Are you mad?" I asked, feeling even guiltier than before.

Olivia's gaze softened. "I'm shocked that you dumped Zach. Everyone thought you two would be together forever. But I'm not mad, Blake. Why would I be?"

"Because now our group is no longer a group," I said. "It's always been you and Gabe, and me and Zach. But if Zach and I are no longer a couple, things will be all awkward."

Olivia raised a brow. "Don't worry about Gabe and me."

"It's more than that," I said. "I've made a total mess of things."

"You haven't made a mess of things," Olivia assured me. "You feel guilty for having feelings for John, which is completely normal, even for people who are in a committed relationship. Although I can't understand why him. I don't care if he is cute, he's always been strange and—"

"He's really not that strange," I said.

"Agree to disagree. The thing is that you and Zach have been together for a long time. And while you two are the cutest couple ever, you just turned seventeen. You should be dating as many guys as possible right now and having fun. Don't settle down yet. Do you honestly think Gabe will be the last guy I ever date?" She scoffed. "I sincerely hope not."

"But we were going to go to college together," I said. "We were going to get married and buy a house and have two kids by the time we were thirty. We had plans." Granted, they were Zach's plans more than mine, but still.

Olivia moved to the vanity where she unsheathed a tube of red lipstick. After giving it a twist, she applied a heavy coat to both her upper and lower lips. I watched in fascination as she leaned forward and kissed the mirror, leaving a perfect impression of her generous mouth.

"Get real," she said to my reflection as she ran her fingers through her long, white-blonde hair. "Happy endings like that only happen in the movies or cheesy romance books. If it's meant to be between you and Zach, you'll get back together. In the meantime . . ."

She swiveled on the stool and grinned, the red of her lips against the pale white of her skin giving her a sinister appearance. "You might as well have a little fun, right? Now, since you insist that John is such a nice guy and not too weird, you might as well convince me why I should like him."

I couldn't help but smile at the mention of John's name. But the truth of the matter was I didn't know that much about him, other than the few soundbites he'd provided in the car as he drove me home earlier that afternoon.

"Uh, . . . he works at The Marauder's Cove."

"Seriously?" Olivia leaned forward, suddenly intent. "My cousin used to date the bartender there. She said the place has this really bizarre vibe to it. She was totally creeped out and refused to go back. Needless to say, things didn't last long with him."

"John buses tables," I said. "Totally normal."

There was a knock at my bedroom door then and my mom poked her head inside. "Are you staying for dinner tonight, Libby? You're more than welcome."

Olivia rose from the stool. "Thanks, Mrs. Kinsley-Ehlert. I'd better go, though. Mom had a rough day with the twins. I should get back and help put them to bed. Maybe some other time?"

"Sure. Tell your mom to give me a call if she needs an extra pair of hands. I'm sure Blake would be happy to help."

"I will," Olivia said. She turned to me then. "I'll talk to you later. I hope you get it all figured out."

"Get what figured out?" my mom asked once Olivia had left.

Throwing myself back on the bed, I covered my face with my hands. "It's nothing, Mom."

"Is everything okay?" I knew she wouldn't leave it at that.

"Everything is fine, Mom. My life just completely sucks, that's all."

The bed sank as my mom lowered herself next to me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

She patted my thigh. "You know you can talk to me about anything."

"Okay."

She sighed and tugged at my wrinkled dress. "Anyway, you might want to change out of that. Zach and his parents will be here in an hour. And maybe do something with your hair. It looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket."

I sat up suddenly, having completely forgotten about our weekly dinner together. "That's tonight?"

"It's Saturday, isn't it?" she said. "Are you feeling okay? You seem off."

Hoping I could play the sick-card and get out of dinner, I wrapped my arms around my middle and groaned dramatically. "Now that you mention it, I don't feel well. I think I'm coming down with a stomach bug. Or food poisoning. Maybe it was something I ate."

"Probably an undercooked burger at the party," she said knowingly. "Any diarrhea? I've got some Pepto in the cupboard."

"Mom!"

"No need to be embarrassed, Blake. I used to wipe your butt." Before I could reply, she slapped her hands on her thighs as if coming to a decision, and stood up.

"That settles it. I guess I'm going to have to cancel our dinner plans. To tell you the truth, I was looking for an excuse. I'm too exhausted to do much more than brush my teeth and go to bed. It's been a long week."

I breathed a sigh of relief but kept the pathetic expression plastered on my face. "I think I'll take a bath and go to bed early, too."

"All right. I'll bring you up a cup of chicken broth and some saltines in a little while."

"That would be great, Mom. You're the best."

She bent and kissed the top of my head. "I know."

**********

On my way to the bathroom a few minutes later, I heard my mom's voice coming from the other side of her closed bedroom door. I put my ear against the wood panel, listening in on the one-sided conversation.

"I didn't hear a word about that," my mother said.

Alarm bells immediately went off in my head and I crossed my fingers that by some miracle she was not on the phone with Zach's mom hearing the news of our breakup.

"Blake told me she was sick. I'm sure she would have told me if they had broken up."

I clutched my pajamas to my chest and held my breath.

"She did? Sure, Helen. I'll talk to her and find out what's going on." There was a slight pause. "I know it's unexpected. Give Zach a hug from me." Another pause. "Okay. I'll talk to you later."

Sprinting down the hallway to the bathroom, I barricaded the door behind me. The knock came a few seconds later, just as I anticipated. Racing toward the tub, I turned on the water.

"Sorry, but I'm indisposed at the moment!"

"Blake Edwards Ehlert!" my mother yelled through the door. "What is going on with you?"

I cringed. It was bad enough my parents had named me after their favorite movie director; it was even worse that he was a man.

"I can't hear you!" I yelled back, climbing into the tub and sinking below the quickly rising water. I nudged the spigot with my toe so that the water ran hot enough to boil the skin off my bones. I needed this bath to last as long enough for my mom to lose interest.

Unfortunately, the water didn't stay hot forever, and eventually, I started to shiver, not to mention my fingers and toes were alarmingly shriveled. My mother was in my room, waiting to ambush me when I got back. She was still wearing the dress pants and heels she had put on for dinner, one leg draped over the other and bobbing up and down.

"Since I doubt you're actually sick," she said, "I didn't go to the trouble of preparing your soup. You can fix your own dinner tonight."

Unwinding the towel from my head and letting my wet hair tumble down my back, I rummaged in the top drawer of my vanity for the wide-tooth comb. "Whatever."

I gathered the bulk of my thick and unruly hair in one hand to begin working out the tangles from the ends up. I caught my mother's reflection in the mirror in time to see her eyebrows jut into her hairline.

"Now you're just being rude."

I had to consciously repress the urge to say whatever again. "Sorry."

"Blake, please."

I turned so I was at least facing her, but very passive-aggressively gave my hair the better part of my attention. "I suppose you want to know what happened," I said finally.

"Well?"

I shrugged. "Zach and I broke up."

"That much I know." She sighed. "I realize the specifics aren't my business, but I thought things were good between you two. I saw no hint of a breakup coming."

I had just had a variation of this same conversation with both Zach and Olivia, and I was in no mood to rehash it again with my mother, of all people.

"All I did was tell him I need a little time and space to think things over," I said. "He understands."

"Really? Because Helen told me Zach's been in his room crying."

I very uncharitably thought it wasn't my fault that Zach was overly sensitive; that's just how he was. It's actually one of the reasons why I liked him so much and what made him such a great boyfriend. He wasn't a narcissistic jerk like a lot of the other guys who went to my school.

"I am genuinely sorry that I hurt his feelings," I said as I massaged leave-in conditioner into my hair. "But we've been together since freshman year, Mom. Haven't you ever considered that I might want to date other guys?"

She nodded, silently drumming her fingers on the duvet. "Fair enough. I get that. I dated many guys before I met your father." She paused, and then: "So is there someone else?"

"Why does everyone automatically assume that?"

"You're the one who said you might want to date other people."

Disappearing into my walk-in closet to hunt for my slippers, but more so my mom couldn't see the guilty expression on my face, I yelled over my shoulder, "I don't want to talk about this!"

"Is that a yes?"

I took a deep breath, willing her to let it go.

"Blake?"

Shoving my feet into my slippers, I charged back into my room. "So what if there is another guy? What's the big deal?"

"Blake, I won't tell you who you can and cannot date. That's something you have to figure out for yourself. But there's a boy with a broken heart. I'm disappointed you didn't have the decency to break up with Zach to his face. He deserves better."

"At least I didn't break up with him over text."

She looked at me as though she was looking at a stranger. "This is so unlike you."

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just . . . it's been a really long day and I have a bad headache."

My mother opened her mouth to say something more but then changed her mind. Rising from the bed, she paused at the doorway. "You are my daughter, Blake. I will support you no matter what. But I think you should talk to Zach. Take something for your head and get some rest, okay?"

I closed the door with a sigh of relief, turning the lock and leaning heavily against it for a moment. Then I crossed the room and threw open the balcony doors to allow the fresh summer air inside. Streaks of rainbow sherbet clouds colored the sky. I sank to the cool ground, watching the sun set on what had been one of the strangest days of my life.

*****

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