It was half time. The score board read that we were in the lead. Fourteen to seven. Flynn and I stood on the sidelines listening to the end of a pep talk from Leo and coach while we drenched ourselves with cold water.

We had two minutes left until we needed to back on the field and Flynn picked his phone out of his bag once coach told us to break.

He read it while I scanned the crowd. Mom and Dad were sitting on the bleachers. Spencer, Nathan and Abby were beside them. Mom and Dad caught me staring and started to wave.

Well, Dad flipped me off as he laughed hard enough that I could almost hear him.

But a swift elbow in the gut saw to it that he blew me a kiss instead. Fucking weirdo.

It was great to see them. But I was looking for one girl in particular. And it wasn't Amalia.

Although, I was thrilled when I saw her standing beside the fence line.

Before I could run over and give her a quick kiss, Flynn nudged me and dropped his phone back into his bag.

"Abby said she doesn't know what Jorjia is doing here. But she didn't come to the game."

That didn't help much.

Earlier, when I had seen her on the drive, I hadn't even said hello. Not a word.

Instead, I climbed into the car and left, driving straight past her while she stood there and watched me.

Now I couldn't stop thinking about her and wondering what the fuck she was doing back.

It wasn't that I wanted her. I didn't feel that ache in my stomach whenever I remembered the fact she'd pulled my heart out of my chest and stood on it.

I didn't get hard when I remembered her plump lips around my dick. I didn't want to throw up when I pictured her pulling her pants on after our final fuck, waving goodbye and leaving without so much as an 'I'll miss you.'

No, I was fine. I just wasn't sure if I should be in the same room as her.

Or hear her speak or smell her perfume.

There was a definite fear over the unknown and what her effect over me would be like.

Which was dumb. Because I was falling in love with another girl and she couldn't mess that up for me.

Amalia. That was who I wanted. I gave Flynn a slap on the shoulder and turned around, running over the the sweet girl who was leaning against the fence.

She was head to toe in blue and silver. Silver bangles, silver lids, silver - well, grey thigh high socks - and a pair of glitter silver lace up canvas shoes.

Her pale blue t shirt was knotted in the front, revealing her toned stomach and the one part of her outfit that wasn't to theme was her black high waist shorts.

I stepped up onto the concrete surround and wrapped my arms around her waist, lifting her so her feet were off the ground.

The fence between us was cold and steel but she didn't complain. She hugged me back as I kissed her neck.

"You look so damn beautiful in our colours," I told her with a loud voice beside her ear.

The noise was hard to compete with. She leaned back and I lowered her to her feet but kept hold of her.

"You don't think it's a bit much?" She looked down at the outfit. "Ingrid made me wear it. We got dressed at her house."

Her gaze went past me to the blonde cheerleader who was in the middle of the half time routine.

Her big round eyes moved to to us for a moment and I could see her grinning as she lifted a leg straight up in the air and fell into the splits.

"It's not too much," I turned back to Amalia and gave her a kiss. "You look perfect."

The whistle blew, signalling that we needed to be back on the field. The bleachers were two meters back, people were watching us, others walked up and down the grass path with food from the food truck.

I furrowed my brows when I couldn't see anyone that Amalia would be with.

"You're not here alone, right?" I asked, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

"I came with Ingrid. But she's cheering. It's fine. She's going to wait with me after the game. Until you're done."

We'd arranged to go to Ingrid's together but I still didn't like the fact that she wasn't here with someone.

She'd made friends in her two weeks at school but Ingrid had fast become her closest companion and I suppose there weren't a lot of people she felt comfortable hanging out with outside of class.

"Go and sit with Abby?" I pointed behind her and she followed my direction and saw the family who were watching me.

The coach was shouting at me to get on the field but I ignored him. He could wait another minute.

Amalia turned around and shook her head. "No it's fine. I'm good here. I don't want to intrude."

I waved her off and cupped my hands around my mouth so I could shout at the squad. They were about seven steps up and a decent distance away but hopefully they could hear me.

"Amalia is coming to sit with you. Make room!"

"Lucas, stop. Go back to the game."

They all stared at me, putting their hands to their ears to express that they couldn't hear me.

The people in the first two rows were twisting around and staring at the people behind them.

There was a lot of confusion going on but for fucks sakes. Could people relax and mind their business. I shouted again. Nice and slow.

"Amalia is coming to sit with you. Make room."

The five of them chatted among each other, shrugging and shaking their heads.

"Dumb fucking deaf ears," I muttered while Amalia pleaded I just go back to the game because both of the teams, coaches and well, the entire crowd were waiting on me.

I climbed over the fence and snatched Amalia'a hand, dragging her towards the bleacher steps in the middle of the rows.

"Lucas," she hissed. "This is so extra. Stop."

We reached the seventh row and Dad who was sitting on the end stood up and threw his arms open. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Making sure my girl has somewhere to sit," I put a hand on her lower back and pushed her forward.

"Oh," Dad said. "Sure. Go and sit down. Get comfortable," he turned back to me. "And you, fuck off."

"Alright. Settle."

"You're doing great, Son."

Amalia gave me scolding look, cheeks red as she moved past Mom and Dad to sit down next to Abby. I waved and ran back down the steps, relaxed now she wasn't alone. Or standing.

And so with one less thing stressing me out, I was able to focus on the game when I returned to the field.

Coach was screaming at me. But that was fine. When wasn't he? We ended up winning the first match of the season.

Leo brought it home for us. He was a hell of a captain and the chaos after the match was ridiculous.

Mom and Dad were doing pictures with fans when I found them in the parking lot after a shower.

Amalia stood with Spencer and Nathan. She was smiling and chatting with enthusiasm. It was beautiful. I had the stamp of approval from Aunt and Uncle.

We had a quick chat with Mom and Dad but agreed we would talk more tomorrow at home where it wasn't as busy and we didn't have to compete with the crowd to hear each other speak.

Amalia told me she didn't need to wait for Ingrid now. She'd text her to let her know that she was good and she'd meet her at her house.

So we found the car and waited for Flynn who slid into the back seat about two minutes later. Abby was off with Mills, already at Ingrid's no doubt.

I was torn on whether or not I should tell Amalia about Jorjia being back. I knew it was the sort of thing that girls wanted to know.

But at the same time, I didn't see the point in bringing it up tonight and killing the atmosphere.

Still, she should know. I should tell her. We pulled up in front of Ingrid's place, which was of course, packed.

The concerning part was the fact that Ingrid probably wasn't even home when most of these people turned up.

Flynn went ahead and got out, letting us know he was going in search of Abby.

I had to be honest with Amalia before we went in. That was the right thing to do. But before I could utter one word of truth, she sighed with disappointment and dropped her phone into her lap.

"What's wrong?"

"I have to go home," she said. "Bernie is sick. Dad can't deal with vomit. I have to look after her."

I felt disappointed she had to leave. I felt relieved I was saved from a certain conversation. I felt bad she had to go and play nurse. Fuck, there was too much to feel and it was overwhelming.

"Should I come with you?"

"No," she said. "If it's a tummy bug, it could be contagious. Plus, she wouldn't want to be sick in front of you."

"Right," I said and held her hand. "Damn. I feel like we haven't spent enough time together. I'm bummed."

She gave my hand a squeeze and the sound of drunk voices came from beside the car as a group of girls stumbled towards the house.

"Yeah I'm really sorry, Luc," she frowned. "Sunday though?"

"Not tomorrow?"

"The bug usually lasts a while. But I have a surprise for you on Sunday. Okay? So I promise. We'll spend Sunday together. No matter who's sick or what's happening. I swear."

I smiled at her sincere promise and leaned across the console to give her a kiss.

Her fingers slid up my neck and into the short cropped hair on the back of my head. Bernie was definitely not my favourite person for the minute.

Could she not have decided to be sick on Monday instead? She's ruined her own weekend and mine. Poor thing.

Our kiss started to heat up. How could it not? She was the definition of addictive. Our mouths began to move faster and our breathing was harsher.

I was almost leaning right over the centre console when she started talking with her lips still against mine.

"I have to go, Luc."

"Mhmm," I found her tongue with mine again and bumped the steering wheel as I reached for her waist.

The feel of her soft skin under my fingertips was tantalising.

I wanted to feel all of her soft skin. I wanted to taste it and kiss it. My hand slid down and rested on her bare thigh, moving upwards as we furiously kissed.

The sort of kissing that becomes frantic until you can't hold off for another second and clothes start to come off.

"Luc," she put her hand to my chest just as I was about to slip a hand under her shorts. "We're in a car on the side of the road. And I have to go."

She was right. Somewhere in the back of my mind, what she said made sense.

It seemed the presence she provided had me so damn carried away, I'd forgotten where we were. So I removed my hand and settled down. A bit. I did continue kissing her for a few more moments.

"Take my car," I murmured, feathering her perfect pout with kisses. "I'll get a cab home."

"Oh no," she said. "I can get a cab. It's fine."

"No," I opened the car door and slid out, leaving the keys in the ignition while I avoided looking straight at her so my boner would fuck off. "Take it. It'll make me feel better. Take it. Pick me up on Sunday."

"Are you sure?" She watched me, still sitting in the passenger seat with red swollen lips and her legs clamped together. Interesting. "What if I crash it?"

"Don't crash it," I pointed at her. "I couldn't stand it if you got hurt."

She smiled and bit down on her lip.

Don't look. Nope. Damn it Amalia.

"It'll be fine," I closed the door and backed up. "Take it. Text me when you're home and let me know how Bernie is."

She mouthed a thank you and I blew a kiss. I entered the house with a serious case of blue balls. She should be here with me.

We were going to dance together. Sit out under the stars and kiss until our mouths hurt.

Instead, I walked inside and frowned at the dozens of people that were moving through the foyer and into the living room.

Or upstairs. Or pushing past me to get out the front door. This felt old. Over done. What was the point in all of it?

Drink, get drunk. She'd have sex with him and he'd blow her off. Or that girl would have sex with that dude and she had a boyfriend. Those three were one hundred percent going to have a threesome.

It was all so dull. What came of it? A sore head. Regret. A trip to the ER with alcohol poisoning.

Or perhaps a confession session with the wrong person which resulted in sharing too much information and thinking about how much you shouldn't have shared the next day.

It was an attempt to fill a void. A pathetic gaping void that alcohol couldn't fill. Not forever. It did for a while.

Just for a short while it filled that hole until the alcohol seeped out of the cracks, leaving you sober and asking yourself what the fuck you were thinking.

In the kitchen, I saw her. Jorjia. She was leaning on the bench in the same outfit as earlier.

An oversized white hoodie which made me sweat just thinking about how overheated she must have been. Her thigh high boots and that pin straight hair that had grown.

Her hands peeped out of the sleeves of her hoodie, revealing her fingers covered in tattoos. Beautiful ones with lots of colour. I wondered how much more of her was covered in ink.

She had more face piercings now as well. The nose ring, lip ring and brow ring suited her. They suited her sharp features and almond eyes. She was talking to Ingrid who I hadn't even noticed until now.

She and Jorjia were friends. Sort of. She didn't have a lot of real friends. More like acquaintances.

Even Abby was never able to get close enough to meet her Mom or go to her house. She kept her private life. . . well, private.

When she saw me, standing beside the fridge, her feline eyes which had a thick black flick coming from the lid, curled upwards with her smile.

There was no erratic heart beat. Celine Dion wasn't blasting the soundtrack to my heartbreak in the background. Her dimples didn't make me want to die.

Ingrid spotted me and lifted her hand, creating a V shape with her fingers which she stuck her tongue between. The international hand gesture for eating pussy.

She laughed and spun around, disappearing through the back door.

That left Jorjia with me and I swallowed as she walked forward. She'd changed. She'd lost that baby face. The little bit of extra weight that you carry on your cheeks as a pre teen.

Her structure was sharp and she was beautiful. She was so beautiful. But I didn't feel what I once did. Which was a relief.

"You ran off," she stopped in front of me. We were almost the same height. She'd always been tall. We were eye to eye with her heels on. "In a rush much?"

"I didn't know what to say," I said.

We were almost shouting at each other due to the fact we had to compete with Dua Lipa while she sung about what pieces of shit men are over the surround sound.

"You could have just said hello," she said. "It's been a while. We should catch up?"

Something about that felt like a terrible idea. It wasn't because I was worried something would happen.

It just felt like a rumour waiting to be fuelled. Reece and her friends were probably here with a match and gasoline waiting to fan the flames of my demise and ruin the progress I'd made with Amalia.

So while I deliberated how to answer her, I stared. I didn't realise I'd been doing it until her grin returned and she leaned in, whispering beside my ear.

Ugh she smelled like that incense and pine. Still didn't matter. Still didn't want her. "Remember when we used to fuck?"

I recoiled. "Na, of course not. I forgot the first girl who I ever slept with," I drawled. "Yeah I do. What about it?"

"You were so inexperienced when we started," her breath was on my neck now and her sharp fingernail dipped under my shirt, twisting on the skin of my hip. "We should find a room? See what's changed? A little throwback for old times sake."

The only reason for which I was the slightest bit tempted, was because I loved to prove myself.

And I knew I had developed a certain skill since we'd been together. But that wasn't enough to have me abandoning my mission.

No matter how bad my dick needed some attention, I wasn't going there. Not with her. Not tonight. Not ever.

I pushed her hand off and stepped back. "Leave me alone, witch," I snapped and her eyes became wide. "Keep your devilish little hands off me. I don't want to screw. Ever. Don't fucking talk to me."

Points for dramatic flare, Lucas.

As I moved through the kitchen and out into the back garden, I ignored greetings, photo requests and whatever else was being asked of me.

She'd thrown me off more than I wanted to give her credit for.

Outside, drinking games were in session, slurred singing, horrible dancing. It was all happening. That was where I found the squad. Abby, Flynn, Ingrid and Milly were sitting around a picnic table with shots lined up.

Well, Mills was standing at the edge of the table while she capped the lid of a Smirnoff bottle.

I walked straight over, stood beside her, picked up a little glass and threw the alcohol back. It was awful. But that didn't stop me from snatching another one and doing it again.

I'd thrown four shots down my throat within fifteen seconds and I smiled at the group who watched me.

"Yeah mate," Milly slowly picked up a glass and started refilling it. "Go hard. Don't let us stop you from hydrating."

Ingrid rested an elbow on the table. "I take it the chat with Jorjia didn't go well?"

Abby sat up straighter. "She's here? You two talked?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said and snatched the shot out of Milly's hand, downing the fifth.

She sighed and shrugged as she refilled it. "Who else is having one before Lucas here decides to finish the whole bloody bottle."

"Group shot," I announced once Mills had filled the rest of the little glasses.

I frowned when I realised we were one short.

Easily fixed, I handed Milly the shot glass and took the bottle. She laughed but didn't object. "A toast to— um— a toast to — *burp* — Amalia! She couldn't be here because her sister is sick. Cheers Mi Amor."

"Cheers," the group held up their shots before throwing them back.

We had another three rounds. I think. I was starting to lose count but damn, I felt good. So good. Warm.

Flynn had his arm draped over Abby, the two of them were laughing about something Ingrid said. Must have missed it. But I did notice when he pointed across the patio and I followed his gaze.

"Tanner and Reece," Ingrid winced.

Over on the enormous pool lounge was Reece and Tanner. She was straddling him while they ate each other's faces as if it was the last supper.

"How utterly shocking," Milly drawled with sarcasm. "Who would've seen that coming?"

"Should I beat the fuck out him again?" I suggested, stepping forward despite the sound of protests.

The little red head I do like, was in front of me, hands on my chest.

"That's a bad idea," Mills said while Abby and Ingrid voiced their disapproval from the picnic table seats.

Flynn gave me that look of his. I think. He had two faces. I wasn't sure which one to focus on.

Milly continued to push me back and I wasn't sure why I was inching forward. "Don't be an idiot, alright? Apart from being a couple of twats in general. Neither of them have done anything wrong tonight."

"What are we talking about?"

"Should we go and get some water," she suggested.

"How about we get out of here?"

She paused, dropping her hands from my chest.

"All of us," I said. "All four. No, five? Whatever. We can go home in a cab. We'll hang out in the rec room."

"Um I live here dude," Ingrid said. "So I'm not leaving."

"Yeah no, Luc. Let's stay here," Abby said. "Mom and Dad are home and I don't have a door thanks to someone who still hasn't fucking fixed it."

I sniggered and bumped into Milly who was attempting to keep me upright. "Spoiler alert, Dad told me not to fix it."

I slapped a hand over my mouth as her face became red with anger. Even Flynn looked concerned for me.

I shouldn't have said that. Someone was going to die. Me? Maybe Dad. Probably both. Shit.

"You can tell Dad I'm not coming home until I have a door," she poured another shot and threw it back while Flynn whispered something in her ear. She ignored him. "And if I want to have sex with my boyfriend, no missing door will stop me!"

"Fuck off," I waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it. I love you. Can we please go home? I don't wanna be here."

"Na," she snapped and pushed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm not leaving. Bye though."

"Where are you gonna stay?" I asked. "Fynn's Mom would literally kill you and put you in dumplings if she found you in his bed."

"They can both sleep here," Ingrid declared with a loud slur. "There's a lot of room. You can go upstairs and crash as well dude."

"No. I want my own bed. I'm leaving."

"Mom and Dad are going to kill you for being so drunk," Abby said.

Milly still had hold of my shirt and I watched the top of her red head as she stood in front of me.

Such a strange hair colour. Pretty. But strange. It looked soft. I threw an arm around her shoulder and sniffed it. Strawberries.

"I can make sure he gets home alright," she said, stumbling with me as I did. "I've had less to drink but I won't drive. I'll just make sure he gets in without being seen."

"Go straight to the rec room," Abby said. "Mom and Dad will be upstairs. More likely to hear him."