|photo by Diogo Fagundes from Unsplash|

Megan takes the wood-framed abacus off the shelf above my desk. It's an Allen family heirloom. Supposedly, the math-geek gene comes from my dad. "I think I have to admit the thing I don't want to admit," I say.

"Which is..." She lifts a row beads and lets them drop against the base. Her bossy eyebrow says she already knows the answer, but she wants me to say it.

"There's a very good chance I would've gone out with Conner anyway—even if Glenn had called to apologize."

Megan keeps lifting stacks of beads. Lift, clack. Lift, clack.

"Fine. It's even possible that I would've fallen for Conner even if Glenn hadn't broken up with me before I left Haddock. But I wouldn't have acted on it."

"True," Megan says. "Your loyalty is commendable. Is that the point, though?"

The point is Glenn was right to break up with me.

I say it out loud and Megan nods.

"So now what?" she asks. "Can you let it go, move on?"

"You mean let Conner go?"

"No, I was talking about your anger issues. I was under the assumption you'd already decided to let go of Conner."

"No, I said I didn't know if I could let him go."

"Then don't." Megan leans forward and grins. "Take a chance on fate."

I launch a pillow at her. She bats it away with the abacus. Then my phone vibrates on the dresser and she cracks up laughing. "There you go," she says. "Your destiny is calling."

"Great, now I can't get Glenn to stop texting me." Megan rolls my desk chair over to the dresser and trades my family heirloom for my phone. "Just turn it off," I tell her.

"Um, I kind of already looked and it's not Glenn. It's the other one."

"Conner?"

She nods vigorously. "It's a picture. Can I look?"

I give her the be-my-guest gesture, trying for nonchalance, feeling anything but. "He's not supposed to be texting me, either," I say. "We agreed to a no-cell-contact winter break."

She unlocks the screen and tilts her head. "Aw. You guys look really cute together." I hold out my hand and she surrenders the phone.

We do look cute together. "Conner's mom took this when we were at his house," I tell her. "There's no message."

"He's thinking about you. What more do you need to know?"

"How things went with Paige..."

Because right before I left, Conner told me he was going to spend some time with her. So that when I came back, he could give me a better answer to my question.

"Thea, it's 9:45 on a Saturday night and he's sending you a picture of the two of you. I'd say 'things' went about as good as your date with Glenn."

I text him back one word: Cheater.

"Hmm," Megan says. "I didn't really notice it in the other picture—probably because he was standing next to Chase."

"Notice what?"

"How much Conner looks like Glenn."

"He does not." She gives me her you're-in-denial smirk. "So I have a type," I say, defensive.

My phone vibrates again: Well now you're a cheater, too, so... What are you doing?

"He wants to know what I'm doing," I tell her.

"Mother of shit, Thea. What are you doing?"

This isn't a real question. It's the introduction to a lecture. I clench my teeth and wait.

"An hour ago you called me in hysterics," she says. "When I got here you were having a temper tantrum. Now you're all giddy about a guy who looks just like Glenn."

I type: Getting lectured by Megan (BFF).

"Does he look at you the way Glenn does?" she asks.

I used to think he looked at Paige that way but now I'm not so sure.

"Conner talks to me," I tell her. "I don't have to try to interpret his emotions from the look in his eyes."

Megan's eyebrows lift. From the expression on her face I'd say she just had a revelation.

My phone vibrates. Conner sent another message: I just left Chase's house. I drooled on the other side of your bedroom wall. Fantasized a little. Things got out of hand. Mrs. T made me leave.

I laugh out loud. "What?" Megan asks. I hand her the phone and she laughs.

"God, he's adorable," she says, her tone sincere for a change. "You want him. He wants you. Do him, Thea. Get it out of your system."

"I wish it was that simple." I say.

Megan sighs. "Please don't be one of those girls we hate."

Meaning girls who can't make up their minds.

"What do you want?" she asks.

"Not to want Conner."

"But you do want him," she says. "You want him bad."

I get another message: I want to kiss you on New Years Eve.

My stomach dips and I get a chill: full body goosebumps. I already tried to change my flight—impossible. I'm stuck here until January 3rd.

A throw pillow thumps my head and drops into my lap. I hug it against my chest and glare at Megan. "Let Glenn go," she says. "I mean yeah, he's been an ass and all but nobody deserves this."

* * *

We go to the New Years Eve party at The Point because I promised Megan we would. But I also made her promise to let me leave quietly if Glenn shows. Which he does—just before 11:00—and he's wasted. I've only seen him this drunk one other time and that was more than enough for me.

"No good can come from this," I tell Megan.

She follows my pointing finger, watches him drain the last of his whisky bottle and sighs. "Fine. I'll take you home."

"No. Stay. I have a plan. Where's Jordan?"

She shrugs.

"Bullshit," I say and she points.

"Thanks." I wrap her up in an obnoxious hug. "Happy New Year."

"Yeah, yeah," she says, not hugging me back.

"I'm not letting go until you show me some love."

She sags against me. "Love you. Hate that you're abandoning me."

"But..."

"I get it," she says. "Go do what you have to do."

I was wrong when I said Jordan Weaver hasn't changed. He's taller than I remember. Bulkier. But his face is still kind of round and adorable. He doesn't hesitate when I ask him to swipe Glenn's keys and bring them to me. "And please make sure he gets home safe?"

"I promise," Jordan says, hand over his heart.

He lopes over to Glenn and gives him a bro-hug. Someone stumbles into my line of sight. So I don't see how Jordan gets the keys, but he comes back with them a few moments later. Then he walks me to Glenn's truck.

Jordan is such a nice guy.

"Will you make sure Megan gets home, too?" I ask as I climb into the driver's seat.

"Of course."

"Thanks. And Jordan, if you like her, don't give up. She's a lot of trouble but she's totally worth it, okay?"

He takes a quick, smiling glance at Megan, nods and closes my door.

I've practiced in Glenn's truck enough to feel comfortable driving on Highway 57. I reach my destination ten minutes before midnight. My phone is in my hand when it rings because I knew Conner would call.

"It's loud," I tell him. "Are you at Times Square?"

"Close enough."

"Are you with Chase?"

"No, just me. And about three million strangers. Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not where I want to be."

"Tell me," he says. "I need a visual."

"Picture a brown-haired girl in a white truck, parked in front of construction site. They're already rebuilding my old school."

"Wow. That's a depressing scene. And maybe a little scary. Should the girl be alone out there in the middle of nowhere?"

"I'm practically parked in Mr. Henry's driveway. He's already checked on me twice."

"Okay, good. Now tell my why you're parked in front of your old school?"

"I'm trying to make peace with the tornado."

"I think I like the sound of that," he says and I picture a boy with floppy blond hair and a huge, beautiful smile.

* * *

Glenn shows up at my door the morning of my flight—as requested. He's holding a white cardboard box from Countyline Donuts and a handful of roses that look a little disheveled. "Did those come from Megan's yard?"

"No," he says, oddly self-conscious. "Mrs. Witt closed the flower shop for the holidays. The convenience store had all these single-wrapped roses. I took off the Cellophane to make them look..." He frowns at the bundle and lowers his hand. "None of this—the whole thing has been... I can't seem to get anything right and I..." He looks up at the ceiling and my throat tightens. I've never seen Glenn this close to tears.

I step onto the front porch, ease the screen door back into its frame and take the flowers out of his hand. "I like them," I say. "You went through a lot of trouble and..."

And what? Flowers and maple glazed donuts can't work miracles.

Glenn sets the box on the wicker coffee table and collapses onto the loveseat, keeping his eyes away from mine. I sit in the closest chair—and regret it immediately. I can't think sitting still, and I have no idea how to start this conversation.

"I didn't call you that night because I felt like an idiot—and I'm not talking about pride," he says. "I'm talking about me, being right all along. I hadn't even dropped Jenny off yet when I got your text message. You were already with that guy, Chase. And now there's another guy? You haven't even been gone four months, Thea."

"I was never with Chase. I only kissed him because he was there when I found out about Jenny—so that's on you."

"What about the other guy?"

"You don't think I understand the concept of loyalty?" I ask, standing. "You think I would have allowed myself to fall for Conner if I felt secure in our relationship?" I turn away from him, press my fingertips in the corner of my eyes. I don't want to end it this way. I don't want to be angry with Glenn when I get on that plane.

"Look," I say, facing him again. "I'm willing to admit—I've already admitted to myself that you were right about us breaking up. Maybe things do happen for a reason."

He folds at the waist, elbows braced on his knees, and covers his face with his hands. "So you're going back to be with him?"

"It's not like that, Glenn. I came here because my feelings for you were keeping me from letting myself...like...give in to my feelings for Conner. But now I'm starting to think maybe it's the other way around. I can't even think about reconciling with you until I understand what Conner means to me."