nine.

Sam calls all the rest of the weekend. Every time I see his name pop up on my phone, I deliberately hit the red ignore button to cancel his calls. Every time, I want to answer the phone. An uncontrollable urge takes over my body as I will myself to stay strong. I can't face him, I can't talk to him, and I don't ever plan to grace that Starbucks again, even if I will probably be suffering from lack of caffeine intake. Of course, I could always go somewhere else, but I already know that it will be a betrayal, whether Sam knows it or not.

Greyson doesn't call or text at all and I'm almost thankful for it, glad that I won't have to face another dreaded battle so soon. I do want to apologize but I figure I will once he transfers to school.

Sam moves on from calling and texting to sending me emails through my student address. I can't help but curse the school for making our email addresses so simple—first initial, last name, and the year that we're going to graduate. Sam sends email after email and judging from the one I decided to read, he's still desperate to talk and apologize. I can tell just from his words how genuinely sorry he is.

Lisa,

I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to jump that on you. Please respond to my calls or to this email. Or come to Starbucks. I'm so sorry. I really need to talk to you. I'm so so sorry and I want you to know that I think you're perfect just the way you are. And I get that I scared you but I want you to know that you don't have to hide from me. You don't need to change anything about yourself for me or for anybody else. Honestly, if anything, I don't deserve you. Again, I'm sorry.

Sam

It's incredibly heartfelt and cheesy and I can't help but feel for him a semblance of what he claims to feel for me. But I know that in the end, I'm not good enough for him and it would never work out. It could never happen. I will not be the cause of someone else's pain and heartache, just as I have been for everybody I've let in around me.

Monday rolls around, much to my disappointment, and I get myself ready for school, consciously aware that Greyson is set to transfer today. He's obviously angry or disappointed with me despite not even knowing the full story. At this point, I've given up on trying to figure everything out with him. If he wants to believe that I'm dating Sam without telling him, then that's his problem. I don't see why it matters so much to him anyway, seeing as we're barely friends in the grand scheme of things. If he won't listen to the truth, I'm almost satisfied to let him believe a lie.

Almost.

I make it to school just before the first bell rings. I head to homeroom and am about to take my usual seat when I feel my entire body stiffen up and freeze. I mentally curse my luck as I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

Greyson is sitting in the back of the room, staring at his phone. He hasn't noticed me yet and I take my seat as fast as I can, putting my back to him. Minutes later, though, I can't help myself from turning my head around to see him and it's at that moment that he decides to look up. Our eyes make contact and he looks away quickly.

At that moment, I realize that it's essential that I talk to him as soon as possible. This conflict is unnecessary and draining to both of us. However, before I can stand up to say anything, our teacher comes in and immediately starts talking before the bell has even rung, giving us morning announcements and lecturing us about why we should try our best in school. By the time he's done, the bell has rung and he is telling us the generic line, "THE BELL DOES NOT DISMISS YOU. I DO."

Finally, I stand up as soon as he wave us off and I start off in the direction of Greyson. I feel myself being propelled the opposite way as massive bodies collide with me as they all simultaneously head for the door. When I finally reach the back of the room where Greyson once was, I find he has already left, much to my dismay. I rush out of the room and scan the hallways to see if I can find him but either he has already managed to blend in with the rest of our student body or he has made it to his next class. Speaking of which, I am reminded by the warning bell that it's time for me to get to gym. Rushing to the locker rooms, I change as quickly as I can into our school's sweatpants and a T-shirt and race to the multi-purpose room for our basketball unit. I make it in the nick of time and Ms. Monroe narrows her eyes at me. I smile at her as best as I can and she looks away, much to my relief, until I see who she has turned her attention to.

Do I have to have gym class with Greyson?

I don't want to have any classes with him at the moment, and the thought of having to constantly embarrass myself in front of him for the rest of the year banishes any semblance of self-esteem that I had left. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice me as he takes a seat in the front of the room. That gratitude is instantly revoked when he turns around and directs his piercing grey eyes at me immediately, almost as if he could sense me staring. I look away as quickly as I can but I know he saw me. Class begins after Greyson awkwardly introduces himself.

"Isn't he so adorable? I call him." I hear a girl giggle as we stand to start our basketball drills. I want to tell them that he was my friend first, but I don't, because he isn't anymore and they wouldn't have believed me anyway.

Unluckily for me, I'm put on a team with Greyson and another boy named Charlie, neither of them bothering to acknowledge my presence. I never get to feel the ball, not even once, and I'm grateful for it. I care more about the fact that even in a basketball game, Greyson doesn't even look at me.

I exit the gym without even breaking a sweat. PE is a scam pretending to be good for your health, when in reality, all it does is lower my self-confidence. Heading to the locker room, I pause to take a drink of water and I can see out of the corner of my eye that Greyson is finally looking at me. He moves as if he wants to talk to me but then suddenly turns and leaves and I'm left with a sour feeling in my throat that no amount of water can wash down. I change as quickly as I can and walk out, propelling my legs to walk faster to make it to my next class. I walk into Physics right before the bell rings and Mr. Coli looks at me out of the lens of his thick glasses with a strange sort of look on his face that could be sympathy or might be confusion. I avoid all eye contact and pray that Greyson isn't in this class as well. I can't deal with another hour of ignoring and tension.

When his black jeans and red T-shirt decides to grace the doorstep, I inwardly groan. However, much to my surprise, instead of ignoring me, as has been the trend all day, he heads straight over to my desk. I involuntarily feel my breaths quicken as he nears where I'm sitting. Finally, he stops just a few feet from where I am and clears his throat, trying to get my attention. He puts his stuff down in the seat next to mine and says, "Hey, Lisa." His voice is level, without any clear emotion that I can analyze and deduct.

When he doesn't say anything else, I manage to turn and say, "Hey," before stopping and then deciding to add, "Are you stalking me?" I try to smile to show that I'm only teasing and he graces me with a small smile back, lifting my spirits just slightly.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. Who knew that we would end up in so many classes together?" He pauses. "Wanna compare schedules?" He takes out a piece of paper that presumably is his schedule and hands it to me. I'm beyond confused as to why he is finally deciding to talk to me in anything less than an angry tone but I take the paper and scan it, mentally checking it against mine and then passing it back to him.

I say, "We also have English together after this, it seems. And we have the same lunch block. But that's it. So I guess I'm not a stalker after all."

"Or you didn't do a very good job of getting all of your facts straight." He smiles at me and even though I don't really know what he means by that, I smile back.

As I think of something else to say, Ali suddenly slides in to the seat in front of me and turns around, not seeming to notice Greyson as she says in a hushed but conversational whisper, "Did you know we have a new guy in our class? People say he's a total h—" She cuts off as she notices said boy sitting next to me, smiling widely at her. I watch as her eyes narrow in confusion but he motions for her to go on.

"Do continue. What are people saying about me?" he asks with a lazy grin. I want to laugh at Ali's shocked expression.

She ducks her head and I'm surprised to see a blush rise to her face. Ali never gets embarrassed about anything. "Nothing," she finally says, after an awkward silence.

Greyson just nods knowingly, as if he already knows what she was going to say. He then asks, "So, are you a friend of Lisa's?"

I watch in mild amusement as her eyes nearly pop out of her head as he says my name. "Do you guys already know each other?" she asks.

Before I can answer, Greyson nods. "Hasn't Lisa here ever talked about me? How could she have denied you this?" he asks with a hint of arrogance and teasing, motioning to his body with his hands. I can't help but laugh, though I cover my mouth quickly, regretting it. I shouldn't be laughing. I don't deserve to be happy.

I focus on Greyson. He is not what you would call a conventional hot boy. His good looks sneak up on you over time. It's not as obvious when you first see him. He doesn't have miles upon miles of biceps and from what I can tell, he doesn't have rock-hard abs as Noel likes to claim he has. Instead, Greyson has a more slender build with enough toning to hint at possible muscles underneath. Not that I want to know. His face is what really gets you: grey eyes, a light spatter of the palest freckles that you can only see up close, and deep, angular cheekbones that illuminate his handsome features. He has an impressive jawline, contributing further to his physical beauty.

I must be staring at him more intensely than I realized, because he looks at me with a slow smile emerging on his face. "Checking me out, Lee?" he asks, much to my humiliation. Ali snaps her head back to me—she must have been doing the same—and grins widely, as if she already senses something happening. I shake my head at her but she just grins maniacally. I sigh, knowing she's not going to let this go.

My mind is still stuck on the fact that Greyson just called me Lee, a sobriquet reserved for my closest friends and family. However, after hearing it from his mouth, I don't protest against it.

Ali squeals loudly when she realizes that I didn't say anything about the nickname, but after a jab from me in her side, her tone instantly softens as she turns back to Grey and says, "So new boy, where are you from?" I don't like the tone of her voice as she glances Greyson up and down seductively, and I'm tempted to remind her that she has a boyfriend by the name of Ashton. I don't have time to say anything, though, because Greyson responds.

"I came from Hudson High." It's all he says. He doesn't give a reason for his transfer, and he stares at me, as if daring me to say something about his omission. He knows I won't, though, and he looks away with an air of satisfaction. I want to tell him that I would never share his secrets, something that he should already know. Ali, however, breaks the silence and giggles.

"Oooh, a Hudson boy! What's it like over there?" Greyson shrugs and she turns away, disappointed at his lack of an answer. She's always wanted to go to Hudson, complaining that our school is lacking compared to theirs. "Why did you move?" she asks.

Before Greyson can answer, Mr. Coli clears his throat loudly and stands. It seems the bell has rung and none of us happened to hear it. He looks menacingly at the three of us, who apparently were still talking after the bell, and we all face towards the front of the room obediently, placing our attention on him.

He talks about how we're going to be having another test to see if any of us have improved since the last one. He then gives us a few pages in our textbooks to take notes on and walks over to Greyson as soon as we're all working.

He says in a hushed whisper that I can barely hear, "We're going to treat this test as more of an assessment so I can see where you're at. But since Hudson is only the next district over, I believe the curriculums should be mostly the same." Greyson nods and Mr. Coli pats him on the back and says, "Welcome to Westlake, Mr. Carter."

He walks off and we take notes for the rest of the period. I'm tempted to talk to Greyson and apologize to him for everything that happened, as I still have yet to say anything, but every few minutes or so, Mr. Coli looks up at the class and barks out a reprimand to some unlucky student. I don't want to be the next victim, so I force myself to wait until the end of class.

It turns out that there's no time to talk by the end of class because we're let out late. Since I don't have English with Greyson until after lunch, I decide to scout him out once our lunch block rolls around.

Scanning the meager selection of food items in our cafeteria, I take a pre-made grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of salad that does not look at all appetizing. I take my tray and head over to one of the grassy knolls outside, where Ali and I normally sit. Sure enough, she's waiting on a patch of sunlit grass and she's not alone: Greyson is already with her, as well as her boyfriend, Ashton. The boys are conversing lightly and I watch as they do this weird guy thing where they handshake and pat each other on the back while Ali laughs at them.

As I walk over to them, I can't help but get a strange sort of feeling, like I'm intruding. I shake my head; that's stupid since these are my friends. Nevertheless, as hard as I try, I can't seem to get rid of it.

I force myself to smile as I head over to where they are sitting and take a seat next to Ali, like I normally do, only now I'm stuck in between her and Greyson, who looks away. Everyone's heads simultaneously swivel towards me and the conversation stops, an awkward lull incurring. Great, now I've made it awkward. I knew I would be interrupting the dynamic.

Before I can think of anything to say, Greyson turns back to Ashton and asks about the football team and when he can sign up for the season. Ali's heads pops towards mine, her eyes bulging, as she says, "Oh my God. Just look around us! Everybody is staring at us."

I turn my head surreptitiously to get a better look at my surroundings and sure enough, girls and boys alike are whispering behind closed hands and openly gaping at the fact that the new boy, the one who could literally sit anywhere he wanted, has chosen to sit with us, the group that nobody cares about. I turn back, a fiery red color already flaming across my cheeks. I hate being the center of attention. I've learned from past experiences that nothing good ever comes out of it.

Still, at least it doesn't seem to be drawing me too much unwanted attention; it's mostly Greyson who's receiving it, though he doesn't seem to notice or care. He continues to talk about weight standards and muscle requirements for football with Ashton like it's a normal day for him.

I stare at Greyson for a minute, taking the time to observe the boy who only gets more beautiful as time goes on. The light smattering of pale freckles across his face seem to be more exaggerated in the sunlight and his smoky grey eyes seem smoldering as he gets more animated in his conversation. A curved red mouth that seems to turn up at the corner every so often as something Ashton says amuses him catches my eye.

When he sees me observing him again for the thousandth time, that infuriating half-smile only widens and he gives me a full-on grin in which I can only respond with an ashamed blush.

I can see him out of the corner of my eye and I can tell he wants to say something to me. Just as I'm about to turn to him, the chattering around us gets infinitely louder and a unique hush falls over the crowd a minute later, something so foreign in our high school lunch period that I actually take the time to look up. My heart sinks as I realize what is happening, and I want to find somewhere to hide away.

His blond hair glints in the sun as his piercing green eyes dart around the field, looking for somebody who I can only assume is me. Our eyes lock suddenly, and it's as if he can communicate with me with his eyes, beckoning me over. I turn to Ali and am not at all surprised to see her mouth open in a gaping almost-comical expression, her eyebrows drawn together, and her face stretched thin as she stares at Sam...

Who just so happens to be walking right towards where I'm sitting.

"Who is that?" Ali whispers fervently to me.

My eyes never leave his unfaltering footstep and dimpled grin at the gaping girls as I hiss back, "That is Sam West. I'll explain everything later, I promise," I say firmly, effectively silencing her protests. She crosses her arms but doesn't say anything else.

Sam reaches the clearing where I'm sitting and stops right in front of me, conveniently blocking out the sun as I stare up at him, a blush tinging my cheeks. He kneels down in a very un-Sam-like pose and says quietly into my ear, "Can we talk?"

The words are unbelievably simple, yet they send a sort of scary rush down my body that I can't ignore. He extends a calloused hand to me, and after a beat, I reach for it. He pulls me up, standing with me, and we walk off to a little outer clearing amidst the hushed tones of my shocked peers. If I wasn't the center of attention before, I most certainly am now. I can see a hint of a smile residing on his face as we walk and I can't help but roll my eyes. Finally, he stops abruptly in the secluded parking lot, away from the school, and I nearly crash into his wall of back muscle.

He spins around, looking down at me, and I can see the different emotions warring in his eyes as he takes me in, ranging in hurt to hopefulness to lust. He clears his throat and visibly swallows. "Hey."

"Hey?" I don't know what else he wants me to say. I didn't ask for this.

"So. I'm here."

"You're here." I am beyond confused.

He laughs quietly and says, "This is awkward all over again." I smile slightly, and the tension is gone, just like that. It disappears as suddenly as it came. My shoulders lift and I let out a breath in synchronization with him. He inhales again and then says, "So the reason I'm here is because... you've been avoiding me."

And just like that the tension reappears and my shoulders slump all over again. I thought he had gotten the message and figured out that I wanted to be left alone.

Letting out a breath, I say slowly, "I'm sorry. There was just a lot of stuff going on, and... I don't know. I just didn't know how to respond to everything that you said that day. I thought you got that."

He shakes his head. "No. I thought you were mad at me."

I look up at him in surprise. "What? Why would I be mad at you?"

He shrugs, his broad shoulders heaving. "I don't know, I thought you and Greyson were like really close and I thought I ruined something for you with what I said. Especially since we aren't together. Obviously." He sighs. "I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't realize that it would ruin whatever it was that we had."

"Sam." I stop, unsure of how to go on. "I forgave you for that a long time ago. I'm glad that you told me. I need people to be honest with me." I pause. "And Grey and I are just friends."

His eyes narrow. "Grey?" I roll my eyes. The nickname is the only thing he wants to talk about?

I shrug. "What? We're just friends. And to be honest, I don't even think we're even that anymore." Guilt clouds Sam's face as he reaches out his arm, almost as if to touch mine, before pausing suddenly and retracting his hands at the last moment.

He asks slowly, "That's because of me?"

I shake my head vigorously. "No! It has nothing to do with you. It's just... it's complicated. I can't even explain it. "

"Funny."

I'm thoroughly confused. "What's funny?"

He doesn't care to explain. "Why do you call him Grey?"

I shrug. "Why not?"

He scoffs. "You obviously don't know him as well as I thought. He doesn't let anybody call him that. You know about his dad, right?" He stares at me and I can't help but feel left out and confused as a blush rises to my face.

"No. What about his dad?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Never mind. It's not my story to tell." I can't help but agree with that statement. I admire his honesty and loyalty. Instead, I focus on something else.

"Why do you think he lets me call him Grey?" The words spill out of my mouth completely unplanned and I don't know what possessed me to ask about the most unimportant part of the conversation.

Sam studies my face. Finally, he shakes his head and effortlessly changes the subject. "I'm so sorry about everything. And I admit that the way I told you about... everything was not the best way to go." He pauses and runs a hand through his hair, sending a thrill through my spine that I try my best to repress. "Give me another chance, Lisa. Please." When I don't respond, he continues, "Let me take you out. Just once. And then you can decide how you actually feel about me after."

I shake my head. "No." This can't lead anywhere positive and I know when not to start things that will only end in heartbreak and broken relationships. "Sam..."

He stops me. "Please, Lisa. I... I just want one night. Wait, no, that just sounds wrong. That didn't come out right. Let me take you out for a couple of hours. It doesn't have to be anything big or fancy. Just dinner? Maybe a movie?"

He's so desperate and it's unbelievably attractive as he all but begs me to say yes. But I can't. "Sam... I don't want to ruin our friendship. We've only known each other for a couple of weeks. This friendship really means a lot to me. I don't have many people that I can trust and I know that if I say yes, then it'll all be ruined."

"But what if it's not?" he asks.

The words catch me off guard.

"What if it ends up being the best decision you've ever made? What if something really good comes out of it? What if you're just overthinking things but in the end, everything will be fine? Even if it doesn't work out, I would never not want to be friends with you, Lisa, if that's really all that you want." He pauses before adding, "Is it, Lisa? Is it really all that you want?" His voice is soft and he stares at me, his features unwavering as my heart races.

"I don't know what I want," I finally whisper.

"Then how about we figure it out together?" he asks.

And even after everything that I said, even through all of my fears and reservations, I decide to do a stupid thing: I decide to give him a chance.

"Fine," I say.

I turn to walk away, already wanting to leave the conversation and mull over things that I know I will regret. Sam doesn't let me go that quickly, though, and he reaches out and grabs my arm gently, spinning me around to face him again. His touch burns my skin. "Wait, really?"

I shrug. "If it really means that much to you."

He nods ecstatically. "It does. I promise. You don't know how much it does." He thinks for a minute. "Is tomorrow okay? At around seven? Do you want to see a movie or do you want dinner or both? Or we could do something else if you want. I don't care. Anything that makes you happy." It makes my heart flutter at the thought that a boy is trying so hard to make me happy and is willing to do so much for me. I accept his invitation with a bigger smile than I have had all day, and strangely, it doesn't make me feel bad about myself.

"A movie and dinner sounds great. And yes, I'm free tomorrow."

He smiles widely. "Great." Then he seems to realize that he's still holding onto my arm and lets me go quickly, clearing his throat and turning to walk away. My arm still tingles where his fingers were wrapped around it, and I take a deep breath before turning to walk back to the school. The bell has already rung and so I walk to my next class, a smile appearing on my face as I think about what just happened.

It seems that I'm going on a date with Sam West.

******

I head home as soon as the bell rings. English with Greyson was fruitless, considering the fact that I didn't say a single word to him the entire time, my mind lost in the idea of me actually going on a date with a boy that I truly like. Everybody instantly bombarded Greyson as soon as he walked in about his choice to sit with my friend group, and the everybody else asks me questions about Sam, all of which I ignore or manage to evade.

At home, I throw my bag on my bedroom floor and groan, opening my laptop that's sitting on my desk. Opening up Spotify, I listen to my latest playlist and start on my homework. After finishing everything for the next week, I surf the web for a while, watch Netflix, and end up heading to my closet to try to pick an appropriate outfit for tomorrow's date.

It's harder than I thought it would be. First off, I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard because I don't want Sam to think a certain way about me. However, I also don't want to look like a complete and utter mess of a person.

I take out anything overly revealing, not ready to face my insecurities in front of a handsome boy, and chuck my massive collection of sweatpants and boyfriend jeans and baggy clothing to the side. At the end, I'm left with a small collection of clothes. I sigh wantonly as I stare at the mess that I have made in my room.

After an hour's deliberation, I finally have narrowed it down to three different choices. I decide that I should choose based on what the weather is going to be like tomorrow night. When I consult my phone, it seems that tomorrow night will be warm, maybe just cool enough to bring a light sweater. Although, I've heard that a life hack is to not bring a jacket on a cold night, in the hopes that your date will give his to you. But I don't want to deprive Sam of his jacket, and I might be thinking too much of myself to hope that he would want to give me his jacket. Plus, he may not even wear one, since males seem to be immune to the cold.

After taking out the jean-jacket combo that I was thinking of, I stare back and forth between my two choices, unsure of which one I like better.

The first is a black denim look-alike jacket that's thin enough to not feel unnecessarily hot. Paired along with it is a light tan skirt that swishes around my legs when I walk. I have a brown belt that can go around the waist where I can tuck the jacket in. Lastly, I have wedges with belted straps with thick floral stitched patterns criss crossing along the edges. I have decided to add a long gold necklace with a tiny token that correlates nicely with the shade of the jacket.

My other outfit scares me at the thought of wearing it. It's a white backless mini dress with tiny, barely-visible straps crisscrossing through the shoulders. I've never worn it before and it's always sat in the back of my closet. I bought it with Aliyah while searching for an outfit for her first date with Ashton, thinking that one day I might need something to impress a guy. Despite my doubt that it would ever happen, here I am.

The dress is tight enough so that it hugs my ample curves but still leaves me room to breathe. I feel almost uncomfortable in it sometimes, mainly because I'm so used to hiding my body under sweatshirts and boyfriend jeans, but I don't look horrendous. Down the back if the dress are tiny threads that make tiny crosses down my back but other than that, it's completely exposed. With it, I have tiny off-white kitten heels that I can manage to not trip in for a day. I have a different gold necklace that works well with the dress. As I stare at it, I find that I love it.

But I can't help feeling like I'm not good enough to wear it.

Like I'm not pretty enough for it.

I try it on and stare at myself in the mirror. I pull the dress down farther to hide the pasty color of my thighs. Because of my lack of exposure to the sun, my body is only slightly tanned due to genetics, and is paler than most girls. As I stare at myself some more, I realize that the dress hugs my chest too much and I can't stop sucking in my stomach to avoid a bulge that I'm sure my mother would tell me is invisible. Even if she can't see it, I can. The neckline is too low and the dress is too revealing and it's too short.

Rather than taking off the dress, I sit on the floor and let the tears that were threatening to come throughout this whole process fall. I watch as the dress darkens in color as drops of salty water spill onto it. I can't stop crying though I honestly don't know why I am. I don't look half as bad as I think I do. I know I don't. But I still can't help but notice every little imperfection about myself as I struggle to breathe through the tears, trying to forget the image of myself that is still emblazoned in my brain. Before I can stop crying and change back into my normal oversized T-shirt and boxer shorts that came from the mens' section, my phone rings.

I check the caller ID and it's Sam. Of course it is. He's probably calling to cancel or tell me that he finally realized that I'm not good enough to be his date. Or better yet, that he found somebody better. I ignore the call, not wanting to hear it, knowing that I won't be able to handle it. A second later, it's buzzing again and this time I force myself to move my thumb and press the button, sniffling in loudly to try to stop the runny nose and clearing my throat to try to not sound like I've been crying. I pull at a string on my dress as I try to calm myself.

"Hey!" I hear his cheery voice from the other end of the phone. I force myself to sound just as happy as I greet him back. "Are you okay?" he asks immediately.

On top of everything, I just learned that I'm not a good actress.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just had an... incident. But it's okay now." I don't know why I told him that. He doesn't know anything about me. He probably thinks I'm a crazy person now who has random meltdowns and panic attacks. Each time he comes closer to the truth about me, I realize how much I'm hiding from him and a wave of guilt washes over me every time.

"Are you sure? Because I could come over or we could meet up or something if you... need anything. Or if you just want to talk or something? You could come to the Starbucks? I'm about to start my shift there right now."

I want to go. More than anything. But I know that if I want tomorrow to work, then I have to get ready now. "I can't. I'm trying to get ready for our... I mean, tomorrow."

I can almost hear him smiling from the other side. "Okay. That's a good excuse. Well... see you soon?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Bye for now, Lisa."

The phone clicks off and I can't believe that he didn't take back his offer to go on a date with me. He even sounded genuinely excited about tomorrow. That has never happened to me before. Even Noel sometimes treated taking me out to dinner as a task rather than something fun.

As I change out of the dress and into more casual attire, I realize that my tears are gone.

It's like Sam has some sort of healing power over me in which I just feel happier when I'm around him. And even though I would never say it out loud, especially not to him, I'm so glad that he's a part of my life.

It's a stunning revelation and yet I feel as if I've known it all along.

I like Sam West.

My phone rings again and a small smile jumps to my face, surprising me. Thinking it's Sam, I click the answer button without checking the name on the screen. Surprisingly, I hear a much less baritone voice on the other end and a rather nervous sounding pitch at that.

"Hey, Lee!"

"Greyson?" I ask.

"Yeah, who'd you think it was?"

I pause. Finally: "I don't know."

"Well, anyway, I was wondering if you were busy right now."

"I kinda am, but what's up?" This feels weird. I've never once talked on the phone with Greyson and it feels different from our usual conversations.

"I was wondering... if you wanted to come over? Maybe we could study a little together or maybe it would just be hanging out? I know we've had a pretty rocky start but I really want to fix things with you. I want to become closer friends than we are now. And the only way we can do that is by talking to each other." It sounds like he rehearsed the speech, but it's sweet that he's making an effort to heal our relationship.

"We are talking to each other," I say, but I get what he means.

I can almost see him rolling his eyes on the other side. "Face-to-face, Lee. So what do you say? Maybe I'll even throw in a little dinner?"

"Well, I can't say no to that, can I?" I say, smiling to myself. "Sure, I'll come over. Text me your address and I'll get ready."

"Okay. Bye, Lee."

Sighing, I change again, this time into the other outfit that I had picked out for my date with Sam. This thing with Greyson isn't a date and the outfit is casual enough. I plug the address Greyson texted me into my GPS and I'm in his driveway fifteen minutes later. I exit the car, pull on my skirt, and knock on the door. A faint sheen of sweat has appeared on my forehead against my will, though whether it's from nervousness or just the fact that I had a meltdown not even an hour ago I can't tell.

He lets me in with a faint smile on his face, his grey eyes storming with some emotion. "Hey."

"Hey," I say.

He takes my hand, which surprises me so much that I take an audible intake of breath and my arm jolts, but he just takes it all in ease and guides me to the kitchen, where an older woman is seated in a wheelchair. She looks up as we enter and her face breaks out into a wide smile. I can't help but blush as she scrutinizes me, though she doesn't look cruel or full of criticisms. She holds out her arms and brings me into a stifling hug, something I was definitely not expecting.

She says in a high-pitched, warbling voice, "Hello! Lisa, was it?" When I nod, she smiles even more, if that's even possible. "My son has told me so much about you. I'm so glad to finally meet you! I just love seeing Grey make new friends, especially at that new school of his. And what a pretty friend he has made out of you!" I blush profusely at her kind words.

Grey facepalms and groans loudly, pulling me away from his mother's enthusiastic voice. "Mom, I told you not to embarrass me!"

She rolls her eyes. "Embarrass you? I did no such thing. I only told the truth!" He just sighs and leans down to hug her. I laugh as her hands reach up to muss his hair as he protests some more. Their mother-son relationship is adorable.

His mother continues with a knowing glint in her eye. "Now you kids have fun. Make sure you get at least some studying done!" She winks at me and I blush even more than before.

Greyson, even more exasperated, grabs my arm and pulls me the stairs. Once we're in his room, Greyson lets out a huge sigh of relief and plops down on a blue bean bag sitting in the corner. I take an awkward seat on the floor but he scoffs and motions to the bed.

"Do you really think I'm going to make you sit on the floor?" he asks once I'm seated. I look down at the navy blue bedspread, a strange feeling overwhelming me as I think about the fact that this is the first boy's bed I've ever sat on. Noel didn't like me to sit on his bed: in fact, whenever he tried something with me, we would be on the daybed next to his bed; he had a massive bedroom and there was always plenty of space. Greyson's room, in contrast, is smaller and more cluttered, giving it the appearance of looking more lived-in. I can't help but like it better. There are books scattered all around the room, fantasy and sci-fi novels and a couple of suspicious-looking romance novels. One with a sketchy picture of a girl and a shirtless guy is hastily thrown aside from a blushing Greyson after he catches me staring.

"It's... I mean... yeah, I have no excuses." I laugh at him and he smiles back, though I can still see the faint tinge of red on his face. He changes the subject. "So. What do you want to do?"

I shrug. I have no idea how to make friends. I have no idea how to get to know somebody or how to help them get to know me. It doesn't come naturally to me like it does for other people. "Um, what do you want to know about me?" I ask finally, figuring that's the first step to understanding other people.

He thinks for a moment. Finally, he asks, "What was your first impression of me? When we first met? At Starbucks." He seems nervous to know my answer.

I sigh. I don't know how to answer this question. "Um, well, I thought you looked different. Not in a bad way. You just... weren't what I was expecting. You definitely looked a lot more... soulful in that sweater and with your grey eyes." He smiles.

"I'm going to take 'soulful' as a compliment, whatever that means." I smile back at him.

I find the nerve to ask, "What about me? What was your first impression of me?"

He lets out a breath and runs a hand through his hair. "Wow, um, well, I thought you looked a lot more... natural. Less like those made-up scantily-clothed girls that I'm used to seeing at school." Suddenly, I'm glad I wore such a simple outfit to his house compared to the backless dress. "I mean, you looked more real. And I thought you were beautiful, of course." I blush and he blushes as well, looking away and averting his eyes. I find myself missing the haunting appearance of his eyes and will him to look back at me by asking another question. "What was your old school like? I mean, Hudson. Was it different from West Lake?"

He shrugs. "I guess. But I mean, high school's high school. You can't change what it is."

My brow furrows. "What do you mean by that?"

He leans forward. "I just mean that there's always going to be the different groups, you know, right? Like here we have the jocks and the cheerleaders and they're at the top. And then we have the nerds, geeks, and 'losers' as my bullies so artfully put it. And then of course, you have the assholes who terrorize other people's lives and don't really fit in with any group. Maybe that's why they're so cruel to other people. Maybe they're just trying to fit in. And I'm not saying it's like that at West Lake all the time but it's still there, you know?"

I nod. I do know. Greyson's explanations for the reasoning behind the cruel people at school sticks with me, making me question how much this boy has been hurt in his lifetime to want to understand and almost defend a bully. A question nags at me but I'm too afraid to ask it. I'm scared to pry, especially considering the fact that there are so many things that I'm keeping from Greyson. Thankfully, he changes the subject.

"So, hey, do you wanna go get dinner now? Or we don't have to if you don't want to. It's still pretty early and if you want to study or something, then we can. I don't know... "

He trails off, running a hand through my hair, and stares at me, expecting an answer. I muster up a smile and nod. "Sure, dinner. Let's go!"

He leads me back downstairs, says goodbye to his mother who waves at us, and grabs his keys from a bowl on the front table. As we head to his car, he turns back and asks me, "So, do you want to go anywhere special?"

I shake my head. "Did you have anything in mind?"

He shrugs. "Nope."

I grin. "Then we'll decide as we go."

Grey grins and takes my hand in his. "We'll decide as we go."