eleven.

As soon as I wake up the next morning, I know that there's no time to wait until tonight. I have to know Sam's complete and honest side of the story that Greyson told me about, before our date. It could change my whole stance on how I feel about Sam, and as much as I don't want it to happen, I need to know the truth. He deserves a chance to explain and I'm need to give him that.

I call Ali before I call Sam. Something has told me that I'm going to need a friend by my side when I have this conversation. She picks up after the third ring.

"Hey, Lee! What's up? I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever." A wave of guilt washes over me as I realize that what she's saying is true. We haven't hung out in over two weeks, a new record in our friendship.

"I know, I'm sorry," I say back, hoping that the simple apology will suffice and tell her all that I want to tell her and can't. "But, hey, I'm not busy right now. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Starbucks with me?" It's an open-ended question, and although I usually can figure out exactly what she's going to say, I can't this time, and it's a strange feeling.

Ali perks up. "Sure! But you know, Lee, I expect some details about the notorious Sam West that came to visit you specifically at school," she says evilly. I groan.

"I know, I know, and I promise I'll explain everything at Starbucks." Then, on a whim, I add mischievously, "Or maybe he can."

Before I let Ali register what I said, I hang up, cutting off her screams on the other end as it finally clicks in her head. I get changed out of my pajamas and pull on blue jeans, a pastel blue backless top, and white Doc Martens that I've never had the confidence to wear before. But I know that Sam won't judge. I swipe on some quick makeup, and grab my phone, some money, and my purse, stuffing everything inside hastily. At the last second, I slip a tube of lip gloss in there, just in case there's a makeup emergency.

I drive quickly to Starbucks and stop in front of it, parking in a space right in front of the window, almost as if it was made for me. I crane my neck to check if Sam is inside and sure enough, I can just catch a glimpse of his blond hair through the window behind the poster of the latest cold brew coffee.

I slink back down in my seat, hoping that he won't notice me, and wait for Ali to arrive. A few minutes later, her car barrels in next to me and parks. I can distinctly hear the screech of her tires and it's hard to fight the dramatic eye-roll and smile on my face as I recognize the familiar driving of my best friend.

She comes up to my window and knocks loudly, her sunglasses nearly falling off her head from where it's perched in her messy bun, and her tank top too low-cut for this weather. She grins and says loudly so I can hear her through the closed window, "It's been too long, babe."

I climb out of the car and give her a long hug, squeezing the life out of my best friend. "I know it has. I'm so sorry for that. I was never trying to shut you out."

"I know. It's just been busy. You know?" I nod. I definitely understand what she means. Ali grins conspiratorially. "You need to tell me everything about Samuel Henry West."

I blink. "How do you know his middle name?" I don't know why that's the first question I ask, but it hurts to know that Ali already knows something about Sam that I didn't know previously.

She smiles proudly. "I researched. And I found out a lot more about him. Wanna hear?"

I'm tempted to hear what she has to say, but I shake my head at the last second. "No, that's an invasion of his privacy. I wouldn't do that to him. Let's just go inside," I say, though my heart beats quickly and I can feel the rush of wind from my lungs in my ears as I think about what's to come. I follow Ali inside, her reaching into her purse to take out her phone and money, and my arms prickling with goosebumps despite the alarming temperature change as soon as we step inside from chilly to warm. We head to the counter, staring up at the menu. I decide to try the fall iced cappuccino after a moment of indecision. It's always good to try something new.

I smile at the cashier, relieved that it's somebody other than Sam. He hasn't noticed me yet and I'm forcing myself not to stare at him. They take my order and I watch as it travels down, down, down, until it reaches... Sam.

Of course.

He skillfully starts arranging my order, and I can't help but be struck with a sense of deja vu as I remember the first time I saw him. By the time he's called my name, I'm feeling awfully sentimental and I have to fight back the wave of nostalgia that strikes me as I go up to the counter. His eyes meet mine and light up in surprise and something else, something that I can't decipher and aren't quite sure if I want to. "Lisa," he breathes, a smile appearing quickly on his already-bright face.

I clear my throat, trying to stop the embarrassingly ragged sound of my breath. "Sam. Can I talk to you?"

He looks back at the piling orders and rubs the back of his neck nervously. "Um, my shift isn't going to be done for another half an hour, maybe a good forty-five minutes, depending on the flow of customers? But you can wait here if you want. I mean, it's not like I'm forcing you to or anything," he adds quickly. Then his brow furrows and his eyes widen. "Wait, is this about tonight? Are you planning on canceling on me?"

I shake my head vigorously. "No! It's not about tonight at all. It's just, I need to talk to you about something. It's important." He looks confused at my less than explanatory words but finally nods. A man, probably the manager of this place, barks out a command at Sam and he winces.

He motions to his boss. "So, hey, I kind of have to get back to my shift. But we can talk after? Or we can text if you can't stay?"

I shake my head again. "It's fine. I'll wait over there until your shift is over." I point to a window table where Ali has stationed herself.

He looks reluctant. "You sure? Because it might not be for a while." He looks uncertain, so I reassure him quickly.

"No, no, it's fine," I say. "I'm here with Aliyah, anyway. My best friend. Do you remember her from when you came to school?" He nods. I smile. "So it's okay."

"Okay," he trails off. He still looks unsure about this whole arrangement but his manager yells at him again and he turns away.

I take my drink from where it's been sweating on the counter and bring it to where Ali is sitting and staring at her phone, a coffee cup sitting in front of her. She looks up when she notices my approaching footsteps. Scanning behind me, she frowns. "Where's Sam?"

I roll my eyes. "He has a shift. Does it matter?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Of course it does! He's the whole reason we came, right?"

I sigh and take a seat across from her. "You do remember your boyfriend, right?" I can't help but ask.

She rolls her eyes at me this time. "Duh. Ashton is the only thing that's ever on my mind. But... Lee, I really want you to be happy, okay? It's been so long since I've seen you remotely interested in anyone and if it's someone like Sam especially, I say go for it!"

I grin. "So, do you want to hear about him or not?"

She rolls her eyes and places her phone down on the table. "Who do you think I am? Of course I do! Spill!"

I lean forward, perching my elbows precariously on the edge of the table, trying to figure out how to start. "So, we first met here."

Instantly, her face turns dreamy and she places her hands over her heart. "Aww! So cute! And this isn't the most unromantic place to meet or anything. Though I would have preferred maybe an amusement park or something. But this is good! Go on!"

I oblige, rolling my eyes at her comments. "And he was definitely one of the most attractive guys I had ever seen." Ali nods with a knowing smile on her face and I roll my eyes again. "He sat down across from me at my table and we exchanged numbers after talking for a bit." I shake my head, still in disbelief over how this all came about. "Can you believe that? I barely get any guy's number but boom, one appeared right in front of me and he was sweet. And better than anything I could have ever imagined. After, he called me for a bit and it was kind of awkward but he said a couple of things that made it less awkward and the rest is history."

"Then what was with all that drama earlier?" Ali asks, looking confused, referring to my fervent conversation with Sam the other day and today.

I sigh. "Well, he and Greyson apparently have some history. They both went to Hudson and Greyson was... having some problems." I don't want to go too much into it because it isn't my story to tell.

"So he and Greyson didn't like each other?" Ali asks.

I shrug. "Well, no. They were friends before but then Sam got popular and changed, apparently. Greyson made it sound like Sam was in the wrong but I want to know what Sam's side of the story is. That's why I'm here."

Ali looks excited for some reason. "Oooh, this sounds like it could get interesting! When he comes over, should I go sit over there and just casually eavesdrop?"

I laugh because I can definitely imagine Ali doing something like that. "I don't know. It's kind of a private affair but maybe instead of eavesdropping you could just sit over there and keep an eye on us? I would like some friendly support when I have to talk about this, just in case it doesn't end well." I sigh and stare up at the sky. "I just really really want this to work out. Sam... he's the first person to ever make me feel alive." Ali doesn't comment on my confession and merely nods, completely understanding as always, something I've always loved her for.

"Of course. I can't make any promises about not overhearing anything, though. But I'll try." I grin at her and she smiles. We talk about irrelevant subjects for the next thirty minutes until I see black high-top Converse shoes walking towards me and I look up to see Sam.

Ali stands up immediately and claims she has to go to the bathroom and that she has to head out soon. I smile at her and she winks, heading to the "bathroom" to find a place to spy on us.

Sam slides into the seat previously taken by Ali and looks at me seriously. "Lisa? What did you want to talk about?" he asks, clearly confused. I try to think about how I'm going to start but end up deciding to just go for it.

I sigh. "I was talking to Greyson and he told me a story and I wanted to see what your side of it was before I jumped to any conclusions." I groan. Not exactly what I was going for but it's enough.

His brow furrows. "What did he tell you?" he asks finally after a moment of silence.

"He told me about the bullies. And how you and him used to be friends. And then you suddenly got popular and made friends with other people? And how you didn't defend him or help him in a particularly bad fight." Everything spills out of me and I can't stop them.

Sam looks hurt at my words, his hand reaching up to ruffle his hair. "And you believed him?" he asks.

I sit up straighter. "Well, I don't know. I don't know what to believe. I think that everyone deserves a chance to tell their side of the story and redeem themselves. So that's why I'm here. To give you that chance." Quietly, I add in a whisper, "And I really want to trust you."

Sam reaches out suddenly and traces the pad of his thumb down the side of my cheek, framing my face with his hand. A blush quickly rises to my face and I can't help but shudder a little. He clears his throat and brings his hand back. "God, you're beautiful." His voice is throaty and rough and though this is not what I was planning for in this conversation, I can't help but feel happier than I have in ages when I hear those three simple words.

We're in the middle of a vaguely crowded Starbucks, surrounded by people of all ages, my best friend is spying on me off to the side, and he's making me blush like a girl in a romance novel.

He lets out a breath. "Sorry."

I don't know how to think about that. Sorry? What does he mean by that? Is he sorry he said the words, or is he sorry about stopping? Or is he sorry he even did it in the first place?

The monster inside me cackles at my confusion and self-doubt. I don't know why I even care about what Sam thinks or says or does.

Sam suddenly clears his throat and I come back to the present. "I... it's hard to explain what was happening at the time. But it's not totally my fault," Sam starts. "And I'm not saying that I didn't do anything wrong. And I'm not making excuses for myself. Because I know I did make a lot of mistakes and I've been trying to apologize every day since."

I stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt. He continues. "When I joined the football team, people started to notice me. It wasn't all unwanted attention, I'll admit, but I made more 'friends' than I ever had before and I wasn't sure how I felt about it exactly. I had never had many friends and I didn't really know how to become this social butterfly that everybody obviously thought I was. But I lived it up because it was what was expected of me. I just wanted to meet people's expectations. I'd never been popular until then and I had no idea how to do it. And I never tried to fall out with Greyson. He was my best friend. After that first fight..." He studies me. "Did he tell you about the time I took him home?"

I nod. "Yeah." I don't elaborate and Sam doesn't prod. Instead he nods and continues.

"Okay. Well, after that fight, he started to ebb away from me until he was literally pushing me away. He didn't want me to be there for him anymore. I think he was ashamed or embarrassed or too proud or something. He never gave me the chance to explain myself. But I tried, Lisa. I really did try to explain or help or just be there for him. I swear I did.

"Grey's bullies reached out to me mainly because they wanted to amp up their own popularity. I'm not trying to be boastful or anything because it was the truth. They thought they could use me for popularity. I didn't want to let them in but I pretended to be their friend for reasons I don't even understand myself. Then it all changed. They wanted to use me to get at Greyson, mainly because I knew a ton about Greyson and his family and past and whatnot, seeing as I was his former best friend. They wanted to use me and what I knew about him to hurt him.

"And I didn't want that. Obviously I didn't want that. You have to believe me, Lisa. I never wanted to hurt Greyson." I nod, though I don't know if it's to show that I do believe him or that I want him to continue.

"The second fight, the one you were referring to that Greyson told you about, was definitely the worst of them all. And I hate to think about it because it was sort of my fault. It was me who made Greyson's bullies mad. I had angered them for not telling them anything about Greyson the day before despite them asking me over and over for personal details about him that I didn't want to share. I ignored them and instead of taking it out on me, they took it out on Grey. It was illogical and stupid and I wanted to beat them up right then and there after they explained to me the next day what had happened, and how it was my fault.

"I wanted to help, I really did, but my friends, the rest of the football team, pulled me back, saying that helping him would be social suicide. I didn't care, I swear, but I just couldn't stop thinking about the last words Greyson had said to me.

"'Get out of my face, traitor.' He spat them at me with a mouth full of blood and to this day, I can't get that image out of my head. I know it's not any excuse whatsoever to ignore him and every day I wish I had made better decisions and helped my best friend, because that's who he still was to me, but I just remembered those words and the look of pain on his face and I couldn't help him. I just couldn't."

He lets out a breath and leans back in his chair, the front legs rising slightly off of the floor as he tries to assemble his thoughts before continuing. "And that's it. And I'm so sorry about everything that happened that day and before and I've been trying to tell Grey everyday how bad I feel but he doesn't want to let me back in. And I don't blame him. I just wish he knew that I'm sorry."

My heart hurts for Sam. He made a mistake, I admit. But he shouldn't be blamed for it. Everyone makes mistakes. It doesn't define who somebody is. Greyson shouldn't be shutting him out for it. They need to talk everything out.

Sam says quietly, fracturing the silence only slightly, "What are you thinking?" His face is full of worry and guilt, and I want nothing more than to ease the pain.

I reach out my hand and take his in a rather intimate gesture that would ordinarily make me blush but just feels like something that's needed right now. "One mistake doesn't make you a bad person, Sam. You made a bad mistake but you're still a good person. You know that, right?"

He smiles a little and kisses the top of my hand, making me catch my breath at the slightest contact of his lips on my skin. "Thanks, Lisa."

My heart beats erratically but I ignore it, forcing myself to stand up, though it's shakier than I wanted. "We're still good for tonight, right?" I say finally. There's nothing else I can say about his story.

Sam's face breaks out in a smile as he realizes that I trust him and it's relieving to see that that beautiful smile is back. I don't know how to voice my thoughts about anything Sam has told me but I think he got the message. "Of course. Wear something nice."

I nod but I'm confused. Where is he taking me?

I guess it's the backless dress after all.

******

As I'm getting ready for tonight, I get a distinct feeling of sadness as I think about everything that Sam told me earlier today. He wasn't on the right side of the situation, but he also wasn't completely in the wrong. Fighting back against those you call your friends can sometimes be harder than fighting back against your enemies. These are the people that you trust and want to build relationships with, and breaking that can be difficult.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I force myself to focus on the task at hand: make myself look pretty for just one night. I already know that I'm not going to end up looking like a goddess in disguise like in all of the books I've read but I'm hoping that I'm at least a few steps above the hoodie-sweatpants girl that I've always been. The dress itself is stunning, but on me, I can't help but feel that some part of its appeal slowly dwindles away. I can't help but feel uncomfortable in such a revealing piece of clothing but I don't have time to change.

I twist my hair up into a high ponytail and then decide that it makes me look more bald than attractive. Choosing instead to leave it down, I grab my flatiron and completely straighten my hair in what I hope looks at least slightly appealing. Then I curl the very front of my hair into slight waves that hang down by the sides of my face.

My next step is makeup. Ali bought me a makeup set for my birthday freshman year, saying that she was sure we would need it at some point in our high school careers. I am not a makeup kind of girl, and I can confidently say that I haven't had to use it until now. I'd laughed her off at the time but now that her prediction has come true, I find that I really have no idea what to do with the array of colors and brushes and brands in front of me.

Trying not to get discouraged, I search through hundreds of YouTube videos for quick and easy looks; I soon find that they are all liars, as none of them are quick or easy, especially not with the limited amount of products that I have. After wasting about nine hundred makeup wipes and many frustrated tears later, that I hope won't show tonight, I decide to call Ali and ask for her help. The doorbell rings about ten minutes later and I let in an excited and squealing best friend who is more than ecstatic to help me with my makeup.

Ali, of course, is used to doing her makeup because Ashton is known for often taking her out to fancy places on their dates. With Noel, the most our dates consisted of was going to a movie and then lying in his bed after, with a foot of space between us and tension rising. The nights generally ended with him getting too touchy-feely for my tastes and me pushing him away, much to his aggravation. Perhaps that's why he cheated on me in the end. Am I too prudish? Too innocent?

I'm praying that Sam will be different.

I shake my head. Of course he'll be.

Ali proceeds to apply what she tells me is foundation, concealer, blush, contour, highlight, and bronzer. I complain that she's doing too much but she shushes me and tells me that by the end, I'll look like a model, a fact that I seriously doubt. She puts on eyeliner and mascara and I force myself to hold back subconscious tears as I struggle to keep my eyes open and trained on my ceiling fan.

When she's finally applied the setting spray that she claims will keep everything intact for at least a couple of hours, she slowly rotates me around to face my mirror, which I was turned away from the whole process so as not to see what was going on and ruin the surprise.

My shadowed eyes widen as I see myself. I don't think I look as amazing as Ali claims but I definitely look different than I usually do. All of my features have been enhanced and the worst parts of me have been dimmed so that the only thing people can notice about me are my eyes and my high cheekbones. I still look like me, but at the same time, I don't. It's hard to explain but I'm not at all disappointed with how it turned out.

I turn around and give Ali a huge hug. "Thank you," I say, my voice brimming with unnatural excitement. She pushes me away from her, shrieking.

"Don't ruin your makeup! Do not mess up my hard work!" she says, though she's smiling at my reaction. For a second, I feel truly happy with the way everything has turned out.

Ali steps back and surveys me. "You look amazing," she says finally. "We should totally do a photoshoot when you get back. That white dress against the dark night sky! Oh my God, you would look so gorgeous!" She starts to go in about what she wants to wear to get the prettiest picture and I start to tune her out, nodding my head every now and then to pretend like I'm listening.

When the doorbell finally rings, I'm lost in thought and don't hear it at first. Finally, after the third buzz, I jolt back to the present. I turn to find Ali conked out on my bed. I distantly remember her saying that she had had a long day and that she was going to crash on my bed until I get back so we can take pictures. I decide not to wake her up and instead cover her with an old blanket. I head downstairs and open the door just as Sam is about to ring the doorbell again, his hand awkwardly waving midair in front of the button.

His jaw almost drops as he catches sight of me, and his breathing changes, something that I never thought I would have been able to notice. He drops his hand back to his side and lets out a harsh breath, causing the air to smell faintly like peppermint. I don't know how to respond to his reaction, so I stand there, staring at him.

Sam waves a hand in front of my face, effectively clearing the air and my head simultaneously. "Lisa?" I nod. He grins, though his face is still flushed. "Okay, good, you're still there. I thought you zoned out on me." I shake my head at him. Have I lost the ability to speak?

I stare at him, observing his happy expression, his clean-shaven jaw, his rugged hair, his long-sleeved button down shirt, his khaki pants, and his polished black shoes.

I finally find my voice. "You look great." Really? That's all I could come up with?

He laughs. "Are you kidding me? Lisa, you have obviously outdone me by a long shot. You're so... you're—" He gestures wildly at me, trying to find his words. "Gorgeous."

I roll my eyes at him. "Sure, Sam. Let's go with that." I'm being sarcastic and he frowns, but doesn't say anything else.

Sam gently takes my hand and leads me to his car, a sleek white Audi two-seater convertible. I climb inside after he opens the door for me like a true gentleman, and I breathe in the strong scent of oranges and pine trees, a mix I never would have thought of but proceed to easily love. It's like walking through an orange-scented forest, an idea that suddenly sounds more interesting than it should be.

Sam nudges me gently from the driver's seat. "What are you thinking about?"

I'm still sort of out of it and I murmur, "Orange forests."

He laughs and that sound alone brings me out of my reverie. I blush wildly. "Never mind," I say quickly before he can say anything.

He just laughs again and starts up the car, turning the key swiftly in the ignition. I admire the way that he seems to do everything with ease, his grace and agility something to be envied. I finally find the ability to ask him, "Where are you taking me?" He still hasn't told me and I've never been more curious about something in my whole life.

He shakes his head. "Nope. I'm not telling you. And don't even try to figure it out because you won't. I can promise you that."

I groan loudly at his response. "Sam, if you really want to impress me, the first thing you should know that I absolutely hate surprises." I really do. They've always scared me. I like to know what's coming, so that I can plan accordingly.

But Sam only shakes his head again, smiling a little at my obvious annoyance and curiosity. "I see what you're trying to do and it's not going to work, Lisa. I'm not going to tell you so you can stop now. I can only hope you like it."

I'm more confused than ever but finally decide to let it go, sure that wherever he's taking me, it won't be too bad. I sit back in the car and try to get into a comfortable zone and not worry about what's to come. Sam reaches over to turn on the radio, and I smile at the sound of 5 Seconds of Summer, a band that I used to listen to before Luke. They just released a new single and I revel in the sounds and rhythm, listening to the lyrics and forcing myself not to sing. I don't need to embarrass myself that much tonight. Sam looks over at my smile and grins to himself.

"You like them?" he asks, motioning with one hand to the radio while keeping the other hand steadily on the wheel, something I admire. He's safe, cautious. That's important; it means that I can trust him.

I nod. "I used to be a huge fan of them before I switched to being a Luke stan." Though it went way further than that.

His brow furrows. "Isn't Luke the name of the lead singer of this band? Did he go solo?"

I laugh at his innocent confusion. "No, Luke is the name of a different singer. She really helped me with some of my... problems and I was the hugest fan, until she passed away."

Sam nods grimly. "Oh. I heard about that. I'm sorry." He sounds genuinely sorry for me, and it's the worst possible sound. I don't need his pity, no matter how good his intentions are.

I shake my head at him. "It's fine. Let's change the subject to something lighter."

He nods. He motions to the road. "Well. Do you have any idea of where I'm taking you yet?"

I roll my eyes at him. "Well, obviously not. Can't you just tell me?" I whine, wheedling Sam. He purses his lips.

"I'm trying to keep a secret for the first time in my life, and so far, it's not working out so well." I laugh at him as he zips his mouth shut.

"If I guess, will you tell me?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Maybe."

"Sam!"

"Okay, fine!" he laughs. "I will, but only if you can guess."

I furrow my eyebrows as I struggle to think. "Is it far away? Because we've been driving for a while now."

He checks the clock. "It'll only be about fifteen minutes away now."

I mentally calculate what could be fifteen minutes away in my head. Finally, I give up and start randomly guessing places. "Are we going to a movie?"

"A movie that's thirty minutes away from where we live? That's stupid and very unromantic. Especially because a movie is like the most basic place I could take you." I'm glad to note that he's nothing like Noel so far.

"Is it a restaurant?"

"Nope."

"The carnival?"

"I would take you there, but the last time I took a girl out to a carnival, she ended up feeling sick after riding some rides and threw up all over me so I thought I would save you the pain and embarrassment if you happen to get nauseous." I laugh at that, and he laughs too.

Finally, I sigh and throw my hands up. "Are we there yet?" I ask in a whiny voice similar to a little kid's.

He squints off in the distance. "Yup. But we're going to have to find parking, and that's an issue." I stare off at what's in front of me, my mouth opening wide as I catch a glimpse of a huge arena with a billboard sign reading in huge block letters: A TIDE: WORLD TOUR.

I can't help it: As soon as it all clicks in my brain, I let out an embarrassing squeal and clench Sam's arm that's currently trying to switch gears. I let go quickly so we don't crash the car but the excitement is evident on my face. Sam glances over and grins.

"I take it you like it, then?" he asks coyly, smirking just a little at his obvious job well done.

"I love it! Do you know how long it's been since I've gone to a concert?"

He shakes his head. I try not to scream but I'm more than excited. "Three years! The last one was to see Luke and I haven't gone to any since."

His glance pierces through my gaze as worry takes over his features. "Is this a bad idea? I don't want you to feel sad about Luke. I just want you to be happy."

I shake my head. "I am! And don't worry about Luke. This will bring back the good memories that I have of her." He looks uncertain but pulls into a massively crowded parking lot and brings his head forward as he looks around for any available place. I finally spot one in the corner of an aisle that's rather secluded. He rushes forward as fast as legally possible without killing the masses of people walking around and zooms into the space, cutting off the engine and turning to me.

"Are you ready?" he asks, smiling. I nod and grab my purse. I don't feel overdressed, somehow, even though I'm among the scant amount of girls wearing a dress. Instead, I feel beautiful, a rare occurrence in my life.

We get out of the car and I can barely stop myself from jumping up and down and looking like a maniac. I'm saving that for the concert. As we're walking towards the venue, Sam takes my hand suddenly, causing me to jump. Sam looks abashed as he quickly lets go.

He clears his throat. "Sorry."

"It's fine. You just surprised me." I take his hand again and he stares down at our intertwined fingers, an odd expression blanketing his face. Somehow, I had an inexplicable urge to hold his hand, and for the first time in my life, I actually did something about it.

We walk the rest of the way to the concert venue with our hands swinging back and forth in the too-narrow space between us. Sam briefly lets go when he has to take out his wallet and find the tickets that he bought off of their website a couple of days ago. He hands it to the lady who is checking to see if everyone bought verified tickets.

I feel a slight wrench on my hand and suddenly, I'm being escorted inside by Sam and I can't help but feel sorry for a couple standing outside, the girl crying, because they weren't allowed in. I take a look back to see that they are slowly and forlornly walking away.

Forcing myself to forget, I turn my attention back to the front of the arena and realize that we're inside. In the middle of the auditorium is a wide open space labeled the pit, where what seems like thousands of fans are bunched up and milling about, getting ready for the concert to start, obsessively checking their phones for the time and posting everything on social media. Off to the side are rows of bleachers that are mainly filled with bored-looking parents who were obviously dragged along by their overexcited teenage daughters. Sam looks at me questioningly.

"Do you want to stand in the pit or sit in the bleachers?"

I shrug. "The pit, if it's okay with you."

He nods. "Sure. We should grab water before we get int here. It looks like everyone is overheating in there." I peer into the crowd and see glistening foreheads and red-faced people. I nod. We head to a mini-stand that is crowded with people wanting iced drinks. We finally reach the front of the line and grab sweating water bottles that are encased in ice chests. We then rush over to the pit and try to get the best view we possibly can, ending up behind a tiny crowd of fourteen-year-old girls who are shorter than everyone else and are obviously over-excited as they giggle and scream lyrics. We can see easily over their heads and have an optimal view of the stage, which is currently empty, save for a mic stand and a drum set. They're playing Drake music through the speakers as we wait. Sam and I talk amongst ourselves, though it's hard to hear with all of the chatter around us.

At eight, the opening act of the band comes on and gets the crowd relatively amped up. Most of the people are staring at their phones while they play their small set. Finally, they exit and the lights raise back up.

At nine, The Tide come onstage and the crowd starts roaring, me along with them. Sam and I let ourselves get lost in the music, screaming and belting out lyrics and it seems as if we've melded in with everybody else, giving us a chance to be stupid and crazy with nobody who can judge us. It's a beautiful feeling, to be able to express myself without a constant fear of being judged.

By the middle of the concert, we're sweating and exhausted but I can't bring myself to stop smiling. I know Sam is taking candid pictures of me on his phone when I'm not paying attention but I don't even want to tell him to stop. It's like being here has made me a different person. I'm no longer the shy, depressed, introverted Lisa Schwartz. I've changed into the Mr. Hyde version of myself, only I'm not evil but instead just a little bit insane. It scares me how quickly I've changed and yet I can feel myself starting to delight in it, in the wonderful unreal, entirely new feelings that are running through my body as I jump up and down, hand encased in Sam's, pulling him along with me. I don't know how to explain how it feels to be this entirely different person. Only one word comes to my mind:

Freed.

As the exhilarating happiness and insanity overtakes me, I feel free. I feel as if the monster inside of me has released me and I have momentarily escaped from its clutches and I can be whoever I want and do whatever I want and nobody can stop me.

All too soon, the concert ends but surprisingly, the high doesn't fade away. I buy an overpriced but warm white sweatshirt from the never-ending merchandise line. My ears are ringing from all of the screaming and I can't hear what Sam is saying. He gestures for me to follow him and I do, clutching the tiny loophole of the back of where his belt is threaded to stay close to him. It's an intimate gesture, one that should be forbidden and guilt-ridden but instead is just warm and thrilling.

All of a sudden, I come back to myself. I realize what I'm doing. I realize who I actually am. I realize why I didn't want this in the first place.

I can't let myself hurt him.

I let go.

Sam turns around at the loss of contact, his eyes inquisitive, the corners of his mouth turning down just slightly as he stares at me with his piercing eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks.

I nod. A simple gesture but I can't bring myself to say anything else. A damper has been thrown on my happiness and I can feel my mouth turning down, mimicking Sam's.

He clears his throat awkwardly. The vibe we once held is off, and I blame myself for increasing the tension. "Did you want to go get food before we head out?"

I shrug. I am hungry but I don't want to prolong this... whatever you call it. Date? Hangout?

He nods. "Maybe we can go through a drive-through or something on the way home?"

I shrug again. He seems to take my silence as something more than it is because all of a sudden his arms are around me and my face is being smashed into his firm chest as my eyes close.

He whispers close to my ear so that only I can hear: "I'm sorry."

I pull back, though it's an effort, not only because of his strength but also because of the surprising shot of desire that rammed itself through me the second we made contact. "For what?" I will myself to say. I'm confused. Out of the two of us, I should be the one apologizing.

He searches my face, looking for answers. "I know you must be feeling sad about Luke and everything that happened, and it was a stupid idea to take to you to a concert so soon after..." He looks away, blinking rapidly for some reason, almost as if he's trying not to cry. I feel a wave of nausea as I realize that I just managed to make a boy almost cry. I knew I would only cause pain. This is exactly what I didn't want.

He continues, "I just wanted to make a good impression. I wanted you to have a good night with me, and instead, look what I did. I ruined it." He stares off into the distance, his eyes never really landing on anything.

I grab his arm, a gentle touch. "It's not you." He shakes his head roughly in denial, and I grab his chin lightly to stop him. "I promise."

I need to tell him.

I need to tell him everything.

I look around. There are still crowds of people milling about: some are waiting for the cheap food that is being sold from tiny food carts throughout the arena, some are waiting for merch, some are standing off to the side, waiting for their Ubers.

I clear my throat. "Can we go outside?" I ask finally.

He nods, though he still doesn't meet my eyes. I take his hand in an effort to reassure him. I don't mean it any other way but I don't know how he takes it.

We head back to the car. There are hundreds of cars jam-packed in the middle of the parking lot as everyone is struggling to leave. A lady in a pastel green dress is screaming at another woman with unique purple jeans. We sit in Sam's car and decide to wait it out.

It's time to talk.

it's another long chapter! things are getting more heated between Sam and Lisa!

malaynaturally xxx