It's ten thousand degrees out here and Mark still isn't picking up. The sun beats down on my exposed legs — I'll be looking at some weird tan lines by time I get home. Hitting his speed dial once again, I hold the phone up to my ear. The line rings three times before going to voicemail. I snap it shut and stuff it back into my pocket, my leg bouncing with anxiety.

Everyone is basically gone at this point. It's Friday so I'm not surprised, but it leaves little to distract me from Mark's lack of response. There's no breeze to cut through the August humidity, and I just know I've sweated my hair out. I don't need a mirror to confirm it's a frizzy mess.

There's only one place I know that can offer shady relief, plus help calm my fraying nerves, so I send Mark a text to meet me at the log instead. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I head around the side of the school that leads towards the back lot. I get halfway across the sizzling asphalt before catching a glimpse of red. Carter's truck sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the few black cars still in the lot. I'm not sure what to make of it. He didn't mention anything about driving me home, and besides, he's nowhere in sight. If I weren't so pissed at him, I might care enough to worry about him too.

Ignoring the urge to check it out further, I power on to the edge of the lot. Stepping carefully to avoid tripping, I work my way down the path to the log, but a figure in the clearing makes me pause. Mark still hasn't texted me back, but I know he couldn't have snuck past and beat me here. Someone else found our log, which I didn't think was possible. Who the hell runs around in the woods besides us?

But there he is, the disappearing man. Carter sits with his back to me, oblivious of my presence. He looks less tense than earlier as he stares off into the woods, his shoulders relaxed for once. Part of me wants to turn around and leave him alone.

But I'm still pissed, so it would be out of character.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Carter jumps about a foot in the air, looking as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Flipping around so we're facing each other, he scowls. "I could ask you the same thing. How do you even know about this place?"

"How do I know about this place? I should be asking you that question. What, are you stalking me now to steal all my secret spots?"

"Not everything is about you, Amber."

"Keep telling yourself that. Now get the fuck out."

It's too much seeing him in this space that has always been a safe haven. When our moms first set up our carpool, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. We went from never speaking to sharing a car ride together, and I always felt like shit afterwards. More than once I came out to the log before our drive home and cried, just to get it out of my system.

"I have as much a right to be here as you do," he argues. He's being stubborn just for the hell of it now. "You made it clear you don't wanna talk, so just leave me alone."

"Get the hell out Carter, I mean it!" My voice comes out more petulant than I mean it to, which only fuels my anger.

"Make me," he fires back. Rubbing salt further into the wound, he turns around so his back is to me again.

It's the last straw. I'm fed up with him dismissing me, and here of all places. My temper bubbles under the surface, just waiting to boil over. All I see is red as I charge and throw my weight into pushing him off the log.

Even then, it's only enough to push him to his feet. He catches his balance and whirls on me. "Are you serious?"

"As a fucking heart attack." I push him again, this time his chest. "Get out!"

"Amber, stop, you're not even pushing me the right way!"

"I don't care!" My thoughts have become irrational at this point. I push him further into the woods. "Just go and leave me like you always do!"

He holds his ground on the fourth shove. I put all my strength into it, but he doesn't budge. Pent up aggression lingers, so I resort to pounding on his chest with my unimpressive fists. He takes each blow like they're from a five year old.

"Amber—"

"Shut up, Carter," I spit. My fists bounce off him like he's a trampoline. "Just shut up and go!"

"No. I'm not going anywhere," he says forcefully. He tries to avoid my attack, but I'm persistent.

"Why not? It's what you do. You make me think you care, then throw me away like I don't even matter!" I scream, hitting him with everything I have.

"Damnit, Amber stop!" he shouts, but I pretend not to hear him. Finally fed up with being a human punching bag, Carter grabs my arms and pins them at my sides. I wiggle back and forth in an attempt to escape, but his grip is too tight. I'm not going anywhere.

We're both panting from the effort of it all. He's so close that his breath caresses my cheek with each exhale, but neither of us move back. Between the pushing and hitting, something shifted. Even though I'm still livid, another emotion has moved in and settled low in my belly. Every nerve stands on end where Carter's fingers clutch my skin. When I meet his eyes, I know he feels it too. The look in them makes it hard to think straight.

The heat between us is unbearable now, and it has nothing to do with the temperature outside. Years of anger, hurt, and love morphe together to form a single urge, one I'm desperate to act on.

"Do you still want me to leave?" Carter's gaze slips down to my lips as his grip loosens. Goosepumps prickle my arms when his fingers trace the hem of my shirt before resting on my waist. My breath hitches at the thought of him staying, which tells me I should run for the hills. It's not too late to stop him. I can end this right here, right now.

"Do what you want, Carter."

I barely finish his name before he's there, kissing me with an intensity that sets my body on fire. My newly free arms come around his neck, and he tugs at me until we're flush against each other. His lips feel like heaven as they move against mine, leaving them red and raw. Our anger lingers in the bites he leaves on my lower lip, or how I claw at his back, desperate to close any space between us. All my aggression goes into the kiss, and he meets me with plenty of his own.

My senses are overloaded by him; his smell, his touch, I drink it up like fired whisky. Heat is everywhere, especially between my legs, and I'm afraid I might actually combust. Carter guides me backwards until I'm pressed against a tree. When he pulls away, I cry out at the loss of contact. Now that I've had a taste of him, all I want is more.

Gripping the back of my thighs, he lifts me up and braces me against the tree, then resumes kissing me senseless. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking them at the ankles, and I can feel how much he wants me through the contact. I roll my hips, craving friction, and a moan escapes my lips. It only encourages Carter to grind against me harder.

Further emboldened, I let my mouth travel down his jaw, leaving small kisses as I go. His breath is labored by the time I reach his throat and nip at the tender skin. His mouth comes to rest by my ear, and every groan of pleasure I drag out of him sends me further over the edge. From far away, I feel something buzz against my leg, but I couldn't pull my attention from Carter if I wanted to.

He guides my mouth back to his, but the kiss is slower this time, more sensual. He leaves soft pecks against my lips, little moments of pleasure that make my heart swell. The heat has evaporated any leftover anger, leaving only the sweet feeling of each other's embrace. When we finally come up for air, I find his face flush.

"You have always mattered to me, Amber," Carter says breathlessly. "And you have no idea how long I've waited to do that."

I search his eyes for any signs of a lie. Any chance this isn't real. But even as doubts try to wriggle their way in, I actively work to ignore them. He's not the only one that's been waiting for this, and I'm nowhere near ready to burst the bubble yet. I'm not ready for him to let me go.

"Shut up and do it again."

He laughs, light and airy, then rests his forehead against mine. I tilt my chin until he's only a breath away—

"Really." The voice is clipped, its temper barely controlled.

Carter literally drops me.

I hit the ground hard; I know there'll be a bruise on my ass after that one. Through the pain, I find Mark standing by the entrance, face sunken. His bag hangs from his arm before dropping heavily at his feet. I try to catch his eye, but it doesn't waver from Carter.

He's the first to break the silence. "Mark—"

"What the fuck are you doing!"

"Mark, calm down. It's not what it looks like," I try lamely. It's very clear what we were doing.

"What did you say to her?" Mark shouts at Carter, ignoring me completely.

"I didn't say anything," Carter seethes, hands clenching at his sides.

I'm glued in place, still sprawled out on the ground. I need to get up and stop them before this gets worse, but my legs won't listen to me.

"Liar. You had to have said something. She would never be with you."

"Yeah, you made sure of that, didn't you. Out of her life, just like you always wanted."
"Guys, stop. Mark, let's just go home," I insist, finally finding my voice.

"That's ok, Amber. I'll be driving you," Carter interrupts, moving to help me up.

Mark blocks his path. "Like hell you are."

"What, you think I'm gonna let her get in the car with you? Cut the shit, we both know you're high as a kite."

Shocked, I stop and take in Mark's appearance with more scrutiny. His hair is all over the place and his eyes are bloodshot, the blue irises nonexistent. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks — like he's taking something that's keeping him awake.

There's only a flash of rage across Mark's face before he swings. Carter's not expecting it and takes the full brunt of the blow, but recovers and comes back at him, hitting Mark square in the jaw. The cuts from his fight with Tyler split open, the blood mixing in with the spray of spit from Mark's mouth.

It gets me moving, and fast. Scrambling to my feet, I wrap my arms around Mark's waist and push him back towards school. Thankfully, Carter doesn't instigate and lets me put distance between them, but Mark fights against me with everything he's got. I have to put my whole body into restraining him.

"Mark, stop! Take me home," I plead. He isn't acting like himself and I have no clue how to reach him. Gradually, we make progress down the path, Mark screaming profanities over my shoulder the whole way. We trip more than once, and I'm terrified that if we fall, he'll crawl away and go after Carter again. I could cry when I see the black of the asphalt, motivating me to push him harder.

Once we're out of the bushes, he shakes me off and storms towards his car. I jog to keep up with him, but he doesn't seem to care if I'm there or not.

"Mark, just talk to me."

All I get is silence. He closes the distance between us and the car in a matter of seconds. Mark makes a beeline for the driver's side, then finally looks at me over the top of the station wagon. I don't even recognize him.

"Get in."

"Ok, I am—"

He slams his door behind him before I can finish.

"Amber, don't." Somehow, Carter followed us out without me noticing. He shuffles past his truck to reach the station wagon before we leave. Blood trickles from his nose, staining the collar of his shirt. It draws my attention to his neck where a hickey is already forming, reminding me of the bliss before everything went to shit. The message in his eyes is clear: don't get in the car.

"I'm sorry, Carter," I whisper, too soft for him to hear. Then, I slide into the passenger seat.

Mark floors it as soon as I shut the door and tears out of the parking lot. He flies through three stop signs along the main road, throwing me against my window. I don't think I've ever been this mad at him before — or this scared.

"What is the matter with you?" I shout, my temper coming back full force.

"How could you? All these years we've hated him together, and then you go and do this?"

"Mark, it's more complicated than that and you know it!"

"No it's not!" Mark's driving is more erratic than usual; he's barely staying between the lines of the lane. "Carter doesn't matter to us. We don't need him!"

You have always mattered to me. The words play through my head before I can stop them. Mark's in denial of what just happened. Carter and I crossed a line today, one we can't easily retreat from. How do I go back to ignoring my feelings when all I can think about are his lips on mine?

At the same time, Mark's reaction is so extreme that it makes me question. He's been there for me through everything and has always had my best interest at heart. Can I say the same for Carter, who's repeatedly strung me along, only to cut the line when I'm least expecting it?

"Is what he said true?"

Mark's head whips around to me. His usually rich complexion is pale as a sheet. "What did he say, Amber? Whatever it was, it's a total lie."

"You're on coke again, aren't you."

He looks away. "No. I promised, remember?"

"Yeah, Mark, I remember. The question is, do you? Honestly, can you remember anything over all the blow traveling through your system?"

We're way above the speed limit now and I'm thankful for the lack of cars on the road. I grip the side of my seat as he takes a sharp turn onto my street, leaving skid marks on the tar. He just misses my mailbox when he pulls up to my house.

"Out."

"Mark, you need help."

"I don't need anyone. Get out of my car."

I don't move. Every instinct tells me that if I do, he'll never speak to me again. Panic churns in my stomach at the thought of Mark cutting me out. I'm literally frozen with fear. Fed up, he reaches over and pulls my door handle, then pushes my bag out onto the sidewalk. I just let him.

"Please don't do this." It's my last resort. A giant hole is being ripped through my chest, made worse when he won't even look at me. Everything about this conversation feels so final. I'm afraid I'm about to lose him for good. "Whatever's going on, we can figure it out."

Figure it out!

When the words hit me this time, they creep their way in, the headache starting behind my eyes and increasing until I can barely see straight. Through the dull throb that pounds in my ears, I hear his final words.

"Just leave, Amber."

Reluctantly, I climb out of the car and pick my bag off the ground. When Mark peels away from the curb, I can't bear to watch. I'm exhausted, the events of the last hour finally taking their toll, but my bedroom feels miles away. I resort to the curb, sinking down and bracing my head between my knees. I have to squeeze my eyes shut to fight off the growing pressure. Any attempt to breathe normally proves useless; the air just keeps catching in my chest.

"Sweetheart?" a kind voice says to my right. The person sits down next to me and rubs my back. I lean into them willingly, recognizing their touch.

Julia Hayes pulls me close and lays my head in her lap. "I was grabbing the trash bins when Mark pulled up. Are you ok?"

"No," I answer bluntly. Anything longer requires energy I don't have.

"He was driving like a maniac. It's a miracle you two didn't hit anyone." She's speaking out of concern for not just me, but Mark too. I know she still cares about him, even after all these years. Then again, that might just be wishful thinking on my part. "Did the two of you get in a fight?"

My silence is answer enough.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asks, drawing circles along my spine. It would be easy to unload everything that's happened since I left detention. Julia has always been a good listener, but then I think about having to explain the kiss with Carter. At the end of the day, she's his mom — I doubt he wants me blabbing all his business to her. Besides, I don't feel like facing questions I don't know the answers to.

"Can I just lay here for a minute?"

Instead of answering, she holds me tighter. I sink into her embrace and close my eyes, thankful for a moment of relief. Eventually, the pain dulls to a tolerable level, but I don't move to get up. I don't want to think about Carter or Mark, or anything at all for that matter. If there were ever a time to reset my life, that time would be now.

I don't know how long we sit there before headlights cast a glow across my lids. My eyes pop open just as Carter pulls into his driveway. I can't get into it with him again, so I pull away from Julia and scramble to my feet. Throwing a quick thank you over my shoulder, I rush up my front lawn.

"Amber, can we just talk about this?" Carter calls from his car, the engine still running. I can hear him fumbling with the keys stuck in the ignition. Julia looks from me, to Carter, then back again, realization dawning in her eyes. He finally jumps down from the truck, but Julia stops him before he can follow me.

"Not tonight, Carter," I call back, my voice devoid of emotion. "Just not tonight."

I ignore the look on his face when I slam the door behind me.

I hear Mom in the living room on my way to the stairs. She's yelling about something, which is enough to tell me to steer clear. The only thing that would make this day worse is catching her in a bad mood.

I force my feet to take each step. Vendetta is waiting at the foot of my bed, giving me a look that says, you're looking rough, girl. I scoop her up in my arms, and she nuzzles into my neck. Making sure to lock the door behind me, I slip into bed without bothering to change out of my clothes. Vendetta curls into the crook of my body; her purrs help put me at ease. I plunge my room into darkness and roll over to face the window, waiting for sleep to take me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket constantly, but I don't bother checking it. I already know who's trying to reach me. I count seven calls before they stop. Either he's given up, or my phone battery finally died.

Instinctively, my eyes wander to the window. For once, I wish the blinds weren't shut. My body sinks further into the bed as thoughts of Carter come on strong. I stare at the window until I physically can't. Sleep pulls at me, begging me to succumb to its will.

My last thought is those words again: figure it out.

Then, I'm falling.

Down.

Down.

Down.