"Wow, you literally have the shittiest luck, like...ever."

Delilah leaned against the counter by the sink and picked at a croissant, sending flakes of pastry tumbling to her feet. The lunch rush had slowed by 1, and we were finally the only people in the shop, which meant she ate, and I cleaned.

I rubbed aggressively at a splotchy stain of coffee by the register with a rag. "At least he wasn't driving the truck." I huffed. "I would have faked the measles or some kind of brain tumor and pretended to die on the spot."

"Don't be so dramatic." Delilah scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I really can't believe you forgot his family owned the only mechanic shop in town."

"I didn't forget." I continued to scrub at the coffee stain until my knuckles turned white. "I just..."

"You forgot, just admit it," Delilah said with a shrug.

I threw the rag at her, causing her to squeal and drop her croissant.

"Uncool!" She moaned.

"I just mopped there." I pointed down at the dejected pastry. "Five second rule applies."

Delilah warily picked up her croissant and brushed off imaginary dust. She eyed me like a lioness would eye it's prey before pouncing. I knew the conversation wasn't over, despite any thrown rags or wayward croissants. Maybe I just didn't want to tell her because it meant coming to terms with it all myself. I was here. Grey was still here. And Leah was still dead.

I raked a chunk of hair away from my face. Beads of sweat collected at my hairline, and I was suddenly very aware of how hot it was standing next to the espresso machine. I made a mental note to have my mother invest in a fan.

"Listen," I sighed. "There's a lot I want to forget about here. There's a lot I want to move on from. But I can't do that with him constantly rearing his ugly head and reminding me of every single reason I left in the first place."

Delilah gave me a crooked grin. "I know you were not serious when you said ugly head. Regardless of your current feelings, that man's head is gorgeous, and you know it."

I groaned in response. "Way to completely ignore everything else I said."

Delilah quirked an eyebrow at me and pouted her lips.

"Yes, fine, he's attractive," I sighed. "But that doesn't change the fact that he's a pretentious asshole with a tongue that's too sharp for his own good."

"Okay, well I'd let him put that tongue of his wherever he wanted."

A knot clenched in my stomach as Delilah ran her honey-colored eyes up and down my body. "Although..." she said, grinning even more crooked than before. "I guess you'd know all about that, huh?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" With every word that came out of my mouth, a smack on her arm accompanied it.

"Kennedy Marie." My mother came sashaying through the swinging door of the back office, fiddling with the colorful beaded necklace that hung low around her chest. She shook her cell phone at me. "The shop called, Grey wants to talk to you about the car."

I scoffed in disbelief. "No. Can't you go?"

My mother gave me a sideways glance. "He specifically asked for you."

I heard Delilah snicker beside me.

"And seeing as how your shift ends in 20 minutes," my mother continued. "It's perfect timing."

"No way!" I threw my hands up and turned my back to both of them. "No freaking way am I going to the freaking mechanic shop to talk to freaking Grey Fischer about the stupid freaking car."

After a few inappropriate sideways jabs from Delilah, and my mother insisting she would not pay me a cent of overtime the moment my shift ended, I found myself walking down Main Street towards the Fischer's mechanic shop. I kicked around a stray stone with the toe of my not-so-white Converse while clouds rolled overhead, casting slivers of shadows across the cracked pavement. I had reached the shop, but I hovered outside and pulled at the strings of my sweatshirt. The pungent aroma of gasoline and rust hung heavy in the air, and it sent memories and feelings I'd much rather forget sweeping through me like a whirlwind.

"I hate that we have to come here to be alone together," Grey said as he twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. He lifted me up and placed me on the hood of his Jeep, still warm from our drive over to the shop, and pressed his body between my legs. He moved his hand up my neck and rested it on my cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. The crisp September air came wafting through the open door at the edge of the garage, taking the stench of grease and metal with it.

It had been three weeks since we kissed in his car the night after Marcela's party. Even though we'd been sneaking around, ducking in and out of each other's houses at ungodly hours and stealing kisses in the dark, I still didn't think I'd ever get used to the feeling of his skin on mine. The way his fingertips traced every dip and every curve, so longing but so gentle, like I was the cure to even the deadliest poisons. A way that Jayden had never even attempted to touch me.

"I know," I sighed. "I just can't break up with Jayden right now. I can't handle the drama that would come with it, and I want a drama-free senior year."

Grey furrowed his brows like he always did when he was deep in thought. I ran my hand through his mess of soft hair and gently kissed his forehead.

"Don't worry," I whispered. "It'll just be easier once school is over. Once we're both gone and out of this town for good, all the bullshit will be behind us. You'll be at Stanford, I'll be at UCLA, and everything will just fall into place."

"Okay." Grey chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of my face. "Only because it's you," he mumbled, his lips delicate against my heated cheeks. "I'd do anything for you."

My heart fluttered furiously inside my chest, and my stomach did backflips as Grey's mouth moved down to my neck, softly biting and sucking and tantalizing every nerve I had. I wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders to steady myself as his hands worked their way down to my thighs, leaving little sparks on every inch of skin he touched. When his hands slipped under the hem of my skirt and grazed the front of my underwear, I inhaled sharply at the sudden heat that filled my stomach.

"I can stop if you want," he said softly, his mouth still so close to mine I could taste the American Spirit cigarettes he smoked.

"No," I shook my head. I ran my hands down the front of his tight black t-shirt and ran my finger along the band of his boxers. "Keep going."

I went to unbutton his jeans when his phone vibrated next to me on the hood of the car. I bit down on my lip as I checked the caller ID.

"It's your sister," I said.

Grey continued kissing me, more feverish than before, and kept his hands under my skirt.

"It's okay," he whispered in between kisses. "She can wait."

The phone vibrated again, and this time he pulled away.

"Maybe you should answer it," I muttered. I handed him the phone. He kept one arm around my waist as he answered.

"Hey Leah."

I could hear faint sobbing on the other end of the phone.

"Woah, slow down." Grey pressed the phone tighter against his face. "Calm down Leah, where are you?"

More indiscernible crying. I grabbed a chunk of his t-shirt as I pulled him closer to me to try and hear what Leah was saying on the other end of the phone.

"Okay, just...just don't move. I'll be there in 30 minutes." He tried to hide it, but his voice shook as he spoke. He hung up and dropped the phone to the hood of his car with a clatter.

"Did you know she was going to Anchorage tonight?" He asked. "To the university."

I shook my head. "No, she didn't mention anything to me about it."

"She said she was with some girl named Freya...do you know her?"

"That's Marcela's older sister." I pressed my lips together. "But she's like 20, why is Leah hanging out with her?"

The look of horror on Grey's face made my heart drop into my stomach. "We have to go. Now."

The entire car ride to Anchorage was silent, but he held my hand and traced circles on my palm with his thumb the whole time as we sped down the highway into darkening sky. We pulled up to an old, white three-story Victorian house that looked like it had seen better days. Paint chipped off the shutters and the door, and three Greek letters in purple paint hung over the porch. Red cups and broken bottles littered the dying grass on the front lawn.

The moment I caught sight of Leah sitting on the curb, I jumped out of the car before Grey could even put it in park. Mascara ran in little rivers down the sides of her face, and her sweater looked like it had been torn and pulled off her. On the second floor balcony, a group of girls in tight dresses cackled like hyenas. I picked up a broken bottle on the sidewalk and chucked it up towards them. I wasn't an athlete by any means, so it shattered against the side of the house closer to the first floor.

"Let's go Leah," I said as I hoisted her to her feet. Her ankles teetered on the six-inch heels she wore, and her body flopped like a rag doll against mine as I carried her to the car.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as I buckled her into the back seat. "They gave me some pills, I didn't know what they were." She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. "I just wanted Freya's friends to like me."

"Fuck Freya," Grey snapped. "You're 16 years old Leah, there's no reason you need to hang out with college girls."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. She sniffled again. "What were you two doing together so late anyway?"

We were both lucky she was in the back seat and couldn't see the redness that crept up both of our faces.

"Just uh..." Grey scratched the back of his neck as he looked back at Leah in the rear view mirror. "Making out."

I nearly choked on my own breath when I realized what Grey had said, but when I looked back at Leah, she was slumped over, asleep and snoring.

I smacked him on the arm, but he just chuckled and gave me the sweetest smile I had seen on him in years. I smiled back, reached for his hand again, and squeezed it tightly.