I wake up in the morning numb from last night. My throat hurts from all the screaming and crying I did. Devin's also gone when I wake up. I'm not sure what I expected. But...it doesn't feel real.

I sigh and slip on my jeans and shirt from last night to go and grab my clothes from his car. I have to come out sooner or later. I grab booty shorts and a low cut, tight long sleeve shirt. I don't want to wear his sweatshirt again. I change in the tent and slip on my high top Vans. I see Devin sitting by the fire. He's reading and hasn't appeared to notice me.

I go back in the tent and roll up my sleeping bag. I pack up the food. I'm not hungry. The thought of eating anything makes me want to vomit. "You can grab your stuff from the tent," I say. My back is facing him. He walks into the tent and I can breathe again.

I sit down by the fire and bring my knees to my chest. It all seems like a bad dream. But then I look at his blank, distant face and I know it's not. I don't know what to do or what to say. So I don't say anything.

I hear Devin deflating the air mattress and rolling up his sleeping bag. I brush my teeth and think about pulling my hair back. But I don't because I can use my hair as a curtain between us.

I miss him but he's not even gone.

"Are you ready to leave?" Devin asks me. I look at him. He seems to have shaved.

"Yeah," I say quietly. I just want to get home and hide from all of it. Get away from him. He puts out the fire and grabs the remaining things. I get in the car look out the window. He walks towards the car a couple minutes later. He shoves the rest of the stuff in the back and then gets in.

We drive in silence. "I'm stopping at a diner," he says. I nod. I can't even talk to him. He pulls into the parking lot and we both get out. We walk in and we're seated at a small table. I look through the menu for something to eat. I'm not going to show him that he affected me, or my eating habits.

"Hi, what can I get you guys?" a preppy waiter asks. She looks at Devin.

"Green tea with honey and the number five with scrambled eggs and sausage," he says. She scribbles some stuff on a notepad.

"And you?" she asks me.

"Coffee and a cheddar omelet, with green, red and yellow peppers and onions. Oh-and ham," I say. She nods.

"I'll be back with your drinks in a minute," she says and then leaves.

We sit in silence "Are we going to talk about it?" Devin asks.

"There's nothing to talk about," I say.

"Riley," he says. "I think there's something to talk about."

"There's nothing to talk about," I say again. The waitress comes back with our drinks. I make myself busy with pouring cream into my coffee. He keeps looking at me. His eyes burn into my skull. I sip my coffee. Trying not to notice.

"I think there's something to talk about," he says.

"I don't," I tell him. I run my fingers along the little bowl that holds the little creamers. I'm leaning forward and he's staring at me still. His gaze drops and I look down, to my chest. Oh. My fingers momentarily stop tracing the patterns. He looks at me again and I tap my fingers now.

"Are you sure?" he asks me. His hand covers mine and I shiver. I know he feels the electricity surrounding where we're touching. His eyes bore into mine and they're dark. They're so dark there's barely any grey. There's so much emotion too: Passion, hunger, desire and something else. Something equally as dark.

"Here are your orders," our waitress says. I yank my hand away from him and she sets our plates down. We eat. We both reach for the salt and our hands brush. I move my hand. I keep eating and then he finishes. I finish and he pays the check. We get back on the road.

I want to kiss him and I want to tell him how much I love him and I want to do so many more things, but I won't. I can't. He's not mine. I made my choice, I said I didn't want to be with him and now I have to stick with that choice. We're not meant for eachother.

We drive and drive and drive. The skies are turning dark, and it's humid out and sticky. It's going to rain. I love the rain. The air is filled with the scent of rain and Devin. The best smells in the world. I have my window down and he has his down. I try not to think about him.

Why didn't I just say I loved him? That I wanted us to be together?

I really do love him and he loves me and I want us to be together. More than anything in the world. He's too late now, I tell myself. He had his chance and he didn't take it. He doesn't get to toy with me anymore.

"Can we stop for gas? I have to pee," I say. I look at him and he nods. He keeps his eyes on the road and he's gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles are white. "You-are you okay?" I ask him.

"Fine," he says, his voice tight. We're at a gas station ten minutes later.

"Do you want anything?" I ask him.

"Apple juice and peanuts," he says. I nod and run to the bathroom. After I'm done peeing and washing my hands I linger in the bathroom. I have to be strong. I can't give into him. I can't let myself be hurt again.

I walk out of the bathroom and grab Devin the stuff he wanted. I grab myself a big thing of Brisk Ice Tea and then a package of beef jerky. I pay and then walk out. It's raining I smile and run to the car. I hand Devin his stuff and we get back on the road.

It's raining and we keep driving. Devin keeps his eyes on the road and he doesn't look at me once. It hurts, for some reason, but I'm not sure what I expected. When we're stuck in traffic he sighs and digs in his pocket.

He hands me a ring, the one I was looking at yesterday. "What-what is that?" I gasp.

"A ring, Riley," he says. He looks at my expression. "Look, I'm not proposing marriage or anything. I just, when I saw it and I saw you, I had to get it. And then shit got fucked up and I didn't give it you. Anyways, here. It's just a ring. Friends," he says, saying the last words sharply, "give each other presents." I look at him and swallow.

"Okay," I say. I take the ring out of his hands and slip it on my finger.

"That is all you want, right? To be friends, right?" Devin asks me. His eyes meet mine.

"Y-yes," I say, my voice is wavering and it really isn't very convincing.

"The only way I can live with whatever this is, whatever just being friends is, is knowing that you're happy. That it's what you want. So, you have to tell me if this is truly what you want. It's the only way, Riley. The only way I can live with knowing that you'll never be mine. That I'll never be able to kiss you," Devin says, his voice thick, "That I'll never be able to touch you the way I want to. Knowing that I'll have to see you date other guys, that I'll see you kiss other guys. But it'll never be me. I need to know that it's what you want, that you want to be friends. Because that makes you, not being mine or me not being able to kiss or touch you a lot easier. Is this what you want?"

It's not what I want. I want to kiss him and I want to love him, but I can't. I can't. I can't. I open my mouth and nothing comes out. He looks at me and then he moves his hand. It's resting on my thigh and he trails it upwards. Up my thigh, past my hip, over my chest and he rests it to cup my cheek. "And I'll never be able to do any of what I just did," he says, "I'll never be able to do this." He runs his other hand through my hair. We're stopped in traffic and it's moving anytime soon. "And I'll never be able to do this."

He kisses my cheek softly and then he pulls back and looks at me. "And I'll never be able to do this," he says softly. And then his lips are touching mine and I'm on fire. Our lips move softly together and my hands rise from my sides to cup his face. I shift closer to him and sigh. He deepens the kiss but it's still soft and wonderful and perfect. It's right. And I don't know why I'm trying to hard to ignore it.

Riley! Stop! You can't kiss him! He's just going to hurt you again! A voice screams in my head. And all of the times he's hurt me flash in my head: All of the dates with the nameless girls, all of times he dropped me in a second, only to come back when he needed me, letting himself kiss me and say that it didn't mean anything, that we were just curious, all of the lies, the locket, laughing at my proclamation, saying he only kissed me for sex, pretending like nothing happened and then saying that he loved me.

The words I wanted to hear the most actually knocked me down and held me down. And I-I really can't. I'm just going to get hurt. I push Devin away and his face is full of hurt and pain and sadness.

"I'm sure it's what I want," I say.

"Say it. Say it out loud. Riley, say it out loud," Devin says.

"I only want us to be friends. And I want us not to be involved in any sort of relationship with each other, other than friendship." My voice is blank. There's not a trace of emotion.