The game was that night and both teams—football and cheer— were in tip-top shape for the end of February. It had been a great experience over the last few weeks, acting as the captain for a while. Emily had a little bit of trouble in the beginning—she'd bark orders during practice or attempt to correct the steps even though the routine was new to her as well.

Keeping with the theme of miracles, we managed to get through the last month without blood being shed, threats being made, or hair being pulled. It was progress, albeit small. It was still preferable to the total hate and resentment that had existed between us before.

Nathan and I were sitting in the living room after school. I was on the floor, staring at our threadbare carpet and promising myself that I'd have the cash to replace it one day. Nathan was on the sofa with his leg propped on his knee while he read his phone.

We were watching Supernatural reruns. Gabby was in love with this show. She drooled, I mean drooled, over Dean Winchester. She had an obsession with her television heroes, but she argued with the use of the word obsessed.

It's not an obsession, she'd say in defense. It's dedication.

Our old sofa groaned when Nathan shifted. He dropped his leg and put the other one up. "You get that letter?" he asked, biting on a thumb nail. "The acceptance one?"

"Still waiting."

It was nice that he asked if I'd got an acceptance letter rather than simply asking if I'd heard back. It felt as if acceptance was all that it could be. The audition at CalArts had gone well but I was trying not to get my hopes up.

"I'll have to get a roommate when you leave." Nathan's phone bounced when he tossed it and the spring in the couch squeaked. "It'll be too quiet without you dancing around all the time."

"Nathan, get married. Have a couple of kids. Settle down. You're twenty-five, dude."

"This is prime time. This is when I'm meant to be doing the bachelor thing."

Dust danced when I dragged my feet across the carpet toward me. Knees to my chest, I hugged my legs and rested my chin on top. "And that would be fine if I believed that it made you happy. You hate being alone. That's the reason that you—"

"We're not doing this again." He stood, stretched, and strolled into the kitchen. "Dallas, you are not a shrink. I do not need advice."

"It's not advice. It's an opinion."

The cupboard doors opened and closed in the kitchen. Before long, there were frozen berries and fruit spread across the countertop. Nathan held the blender cup in one hand and peered over at where I was still sitting on the living-room floor.

"Smoothie?"

"No thanks."

I was about an hour from game time and the last thing that I needed was to be thrown around with dairy in my stomach, which reminded me I should have been going. Standing up, I slipped my cell phone into my bra and ran a hand through my ponytail while I deliberated if I needed to remember anything else.

"Dallas," Nathan snapped. "Quit doing that."

I stared. "Doing what?"

"Putting your cell phone in your bra. How many damn times do we have to go over this?"

He stormed toward me. There was milk on his black T-shirt, and I laughed at how childish it seemed, until he pinched the bottom of my phone and pulled it out of its hiding spot.

"Nathan." I swatted his shoulder and snatched it back. "I don't need your advice."

"It's not advice, dipshit. It's called cellular radiation and it's a real thing. Use a pocket."

My big brother had been health conscious for as long as I could remember. It went further than his diet and exercise. Putting my phone in my bra was a bad habit, so I slipped it into my pants pocket and smiled with sarcasm.

"Happy? Can we go now?"

"Hang on, let me put this stuff away."

He went back to the kitchen to finish his smoothie and pack up the ingredients.

"Yeah. And, Nathan, change your shirt."

***

At school, the chaos was unreal. The parking lot was congested with cars that honked and drivers who leaned out of their windows, cussing when their spot was stolen. Bumpers touched bumpers and the traffic crawled at a snail's pace. This was the specific reason that Nathan and I had caught an Uber. It astounded me that people did this every single year and refused to learn that driving was not worth it.

The stands had filled up. There was a near-constant cloud of cold breath above all of the heads. People were huddled with blankets and wore hats. Little children were in sleeping bags. Noses were red and hands were hidden in gloves. But the atmosphere was so positive. It was inspiring that so many people supported such a good cause.

I was sitting on the track with Melissa. We were underneath a big blanket covered in a picture of Lady Gaga. We had fifteen minutes before kickoff, and I was excited to see Drayton play again.

Our cheer uniforms were sleeveless, but we'd all agreed to wear a maroon long sleeve underneath our tops because of how cold it was. The days were no longer filled with permafrost, but nighttime was still cuddle weather.

There was a sudden pause in the elevator music that had been humming in the background. It wasn't loud, but the abrupt stop was enough that the crowd became quiet in anticipation. The field was vacant. It couldn't be time for the game to begin.

Melissa and I stood up and wandered, along with the other curious cheerleaders, toward the edge of the field. A new song began. The sound was louder than it had been before and I recognized the song was "I Like Me Better" by Lauv.

As soon as the first verse began, six of the football players emerged from the left tunnel. They cradled a football each and lined up in the middle of the field.

The first player stepped forward and kicked his football into the air. It exploded into fireworks. It was loud and I startled, but it was so beautiful. The crowd gasped with marvel and awe as bursts of color popped against the canvas of black. The second player followed with his ball.

And so it continued in quick succession until the sixth player had kicked his ball. The impromptu display was such a unique beginning to the game. I was so fixated on figuring out how those footballs were engineered that I almost missed Drayton walking onto the field.

He was in his uniform but with no helmet, just his maroon and white colors, his chest gear and a football under one arm. He sauntered toward the head of the setup, and I watched him, curious as to why he hadn't mentioned that he was doing some sort of pre-game performance.

"Baby," he cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted. "Catch!"

Without giving it a second thought, I stepped forward and noticed that the cheerleaders stepped back. He evaluated his aim and then sent the ball with a strong arm, letting it spiral straight for me.

Much to my relief, I caught the ball, feeling triumphant because the crowd was huge and missing would have been embarrassing. I glanced down at the ball and almost dropped it when I read the words that were scrawled across it in thick black font.

You're the greatest catch that I've ever made, Cheer. Touchdown at prom with me?

It was a promposal. He'd planned this entire thing for me, and I'd had no idea.

I was still staring at the ball, reading the words and semi-ignoring the fact that thousands of people were watching me. The sheer thought of that would have killed me once upon a time. But I no longer cared. I looked up just in time to see that Drayton had run across the field and was a few feet in front of me. As he swept me up, the ball slipped out of my hold and I wrapped myself around him, hooking my legs around his waist as he spun in a slow circle.

He held me up under the bum, the maroon in our uniforms blended together, and we kissed. I held his face, gripped his hair, and attempted not to let it go too far in front of all of the families that were there. Our lips parted and met again over and over. Closed mouth kisses. To keep it appropriate.

He leaned back and I was met with that green gaze that turned me inside out. "Is that a yes?"

I bit down on a smile and shrugged. "Sure."

His grin widened, touching the corners of his eyes, and that laugh, it could melt butter. The crowd was applauding. There were congratulations and a lot of awws going on.

Coach Finn's voice boomed through a megaphone. "All right, good job, lovebirds. Now let the girl go, Lahey. We've got a game to win."

Drayton let me drop down in front of him. He loved his sport but I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't mind disappearing right now. He began to back up, still holding one of my hands. "You look beautiful, Cheer."

"Good luck tonight."

He winked, and then he won.

After the game, there was a celebration at Maxon's. Gabby was given a direct invitation from Maxon himself. She'd become closer with some of the team and their extended group thanks to her relationship with Josh. She could drink most of them under the table, and it appeared that they loved it.

"Dallas," she called from her spot around a round glass table, low to the floor, where a bunch of people were sitting for a drinking game. "Come and join."

I was perched in Drayton's lap on a suede recliner. We'd come to the party out of obligation to the team, but both of us were eager to leave. "No, it's all right," I called back, raising my voice above the loud music. I didn't want to join a game only to leave in the middle of it.

Maxon's second-floor living room was an open space with a lot of seating, hardwood floors, and enormous windows that allowed a view of the town's lights. That was one thing that I loved most about these elite houses—they had so much spare space that excessive windows weren't even an issue. I loved a good view.

"Bro." Maxon slapped Drayton on the shoulder as he circled the chair with a Bud Light in his hand. I wanted to tell him to get a real drink. "You've done us all wrong."

Drayton's thumb rubbed small circles on my hip. "What are you on about?"

"Becca's been talking about the prom since we started school. Now I have to top that damn promposal."

A couple of the guys who were close enough to hear agreed. Their complaints made me laugh. It was true that it would be a tough act to top, but that was Drayton. He was an extra-mile sort of person. A promposal hadn't even occurred to me, but I wasn't surprised that he'd gone all out. It gave me butterflies whenever I thought about it.

"You couldn't top it if you tried," Drayton scoffed, and I giggled at his "humble" attitude. He started to stand up, so I climbed off his lap and let him wrap his hand around mine. "We're off. Good game tonight. I'm going to go home and do a victory lap."

There was a series of laughter as he looked down at me with amusement. Idiot. He kissed my head and tugged the hood of his football jersey so that it bunched around the back of his neck. I did the same with mine. It was cold outside and we were bracing for the frostbitten air that would blast us the moment that we stepped outside.

We said our collective farewells. I knew that Josh and Gabby would be back at Drayton's at some point that night.

"So what did you think of that surprise?" Drayton asked when were in the car. His headlights illuminated the dark road and he leaned over, holding my hand.

"I loved it. I didn't see it coming. At all."

He tipped his head back on the headrest as he kept watching the road, a devious grin lifting his mouth. "You'll see me coming tonight."

"Wow."

***

In the morning, well, sort of morning—it was almost lunch-time—the four of us were sharing a booth at the diner. It was quiet. It smelled like onions and coffee. Outside, it was dark, the sky filled with grey clouds that threatened rainfall, and the diner lights felt bright and harsh against the gloomy backdrop. I stood at the counter while Kenzie scrawled down our order. "That was such a cute promposal last night," she said, tearing off the order slip and sticking it to the magnetic strip

I smiled and watched with amusement as her gaze darted toward the booth where Drayton leaned back in the seat with his hands clasped behind his head. I couldn't blame her for having a bit of a stare. I was used to the fact that he was admired a lot.

"I'll bring the order over when it's done." She tucked a strand of her shoulder-length copper hair behind her ear.

"Thanks, Kenz."

I slid into the booth beside Drayton and tucked into his side. Gabby and Josh were hungover. They were wearing sunglasses even though the weather was overcast and we were inside. They leaned against each other on the other side of the booth and suffered.

Drayton's arm rested around my shoulders. His muscles ached and whenever I shifted, he winced from all of the bruising around his biceps I told him more than once to move his arm, but he insisted on keeping me tucked in beside him.

"Gah, where is this food?" I murmured after fifteen minutes, staring at the kitchen where I could see our chef, Joe, checking his cell phone. "I'm starving."

"Don't lie," Drayton laughed. "You just ate."

It took me a minute to understand what he was talking about. Then I remembered what we'd been doing before we left his house and I smothered a snort.

"Can you not?" Josh frowned, catching on as well. His head was tipped back, leaning on Gabby's and both of them had a flattering double chin happening.

"Can I not what?" Drayton scoffed, tapping the tabletop with his spare hand. "Can I not talk to my girlfriend about our sex life?"

Josh groaned and I wondered if Gabby was asleep or if she was just avoiding the conversation. "You're obsessed."

"I'm obsessed?" Drayton leaned forward with disbelief. His hoodie pulled tight against his chest. "Your room smells like dick all the time. You have jizz on your headboard."

Gabby was definitely awake. Her chapped lips parted in horror.

"Why are you so fucking loud?" Josh seethed.

"How did you even achieve that?" Drayton laughed. "Learn how to aim. You damn spaz."

I twisted the hoodie string around my finger. "Better on the headboard than in Gabby's uterus."

She remained quiet but slowly lifted a hand and rested it on her face, as if she was hiding. Drayton's loud laugh further irritated the hungover couple. Both of them cringed, their lips pursed in protest.

We were provided with a distraction when Kenzie delivered our nachos. The plate was huge. Cheese, salsa, sour cream, and of course, a mountain of chips. It was mouthwatering, and Drayton and I wasted no time digging in.

Gabby and Josh hesitated. It must have been the thought of stomaching food that was making them reluctant. Usually they wouldn't be so shy. I pushed the plate farther into the middle of the table and both of them gagged when the aroma wafted toward their noses. So dramatic.

"You're not usually this tragic in the morning," I said. "Exactly how much did you have to drink?"

"It's not about how much," Gabby groaned, her body draped across the tabletop as if she couldn't hold up her own weight. "We had poisonous tequila shots."

I had to agree with her there. I didn't touch the stuff.

"Gabs," I clapped my hands together to dust off chip powder. "Your mom was asking me about your college applications. Like, she doesn't know where you applied? I'm getting kind of worried."

She remained head down on the table, ignoring me. Josh's eyes were hidden behind his shades but his lips pursed. He knew something.

"You're almost a straight-A student," I continued. "What is the issue? Did you really not app—"

"I did. Shut up," she interrupted. The door jingled, piercing our now-silent group as new customers came in and out. "I applied at the Arapahoe Community College. Mom didn't want me moving far and Josh is here. Okay? Happy?"

I looked at Josh, confused, as well as Drayton, who shrugged. "Why wouldn't you just tell me that, Gabs?"

She slowly sat up, wincing and breathing through her move- ments. "Because you always go on about how smart I am and how I could go anywhere, and I chose people over college. You would never do that. I didn't want to get harassed about it."

"I haven't been pushy, have I?" She didn't answer me. "I didn't mean to make you feel pressured. I just want the best for you, Gabs."

"Someone's in a grump," Drayton mumbled, mouth full of food.

"I'm happy if you're happy," I assured her.

She didn't respond, but she did smile. A small smile. I attempted to encourage her to eat again—it was no doubt what she needed—but when I pushed the oversized blue plate farther toward her, she scowled and shoved it back.

"Hey, remember when you two made out once?" Drayton waved a finger between his best friend and me. Even behind their sunglasses, I could see Josh's and Gabby's brows furrow.

"What the fuck?"

Drayton ignored Josh. "Dude, I wanted to cut off your tongue when I saw that shit. Baby, I'm so glad that you didn't sleep with him."

If the fluorescent lights and white noise of the diner weren't making our friends throbbing headaches worse, Drayton sure was. Gabby's chest visibly expanded and her feet shuffled under the table.

"Ignore him," I told her, folding a napkin into a triangle.

"Josh, who's the better kisser?"

Josh turned his palms upward, a sheen of sweat shining under the light.

"Drayton, I do not need to know the answer to that," I said, a side-on glance expressing my disapproval. "None of us do."

"I do."

"Why are we talking about this?" Gabby croaked.

Drayton shrugged. "What else would we talk about?"

"Anything!" Josh cried. "Literally anything else."

Josh had known Drayton a lot longer than I had, but even I knew that ignoring him was the best way to make him stop. He loved winding people up. He was a child.

"Come on," he coaxed. "Or I'll assume it's Dallas."

"If I say Dallas, I hurt Gabby. If I say Gabby, you'll chew me out for insulting Dallas." Josh clenched his jaw and banged a fist on the table. "I can't win so I'm not answering."

"Good idea," Drayton nodded. "Safe."

"It's Gabby." I winked at her, biting another chip loaded with salsa. I chewed and swallowed. "We've made out before. I know that it's her."

Drayton recoiled, his head whipping between both of us so fast that I expected it to snap. "Pics or it didn't happen."

I nudged him with my elbow. He wasn't done, though. "Should we have a foursome?"

It didn't even surprise me that he said it. It was the volume at which he said it that might have been responsible for Josh standing up and leaving. Gabby watched him pull the door open, a gust of cold air and the jingle of the bell following.

"I should go." She stood up, slow and fatigued. "He's just tired."

When she was gone, Drayton sighed. "Finally."

"You did that on purpose?"

"Of course, I did." He shrugged, settling farther into the seat.

He hissed when my shoulder bumped his biceps. "So that we could be alone."

"We could have left, Dray. Or just told them that we wanted to spend some time alone."

"Nah," he grinned. "That was more fun."

"You don't really want to have a foursome then?"

"Fuck no. Some couples can do that. Sweet. I couldn't deal watching someone else put their hands on you. I'd slip and murder them. Why? Do you want to have one?"

"No."

"Sweet."

The vibrating on the tabletop clattered the salt dispenser and startled me. Drayton chuckled, pushing the plate away from his reach so that he couldn't eat any more. I picked up my cell and read the email notification on the screen.

It was from CalArts.

I'd been waiting for this moment since the audition. I'd imagined where I'd be and how I would respond to this email. And now that it was here, I had no idea how to proceed. Drayton leaned over and read the unopened email notification.

"Cheer." He sat up straighter. "Read it. Babe? Open the email."

"I'm scared."

"Should we go somewhere private?"

"No."

"Well . . ." he sounded apprehensive, cautious, as he shifted beside me. "I'm not sure what else to do here."

"Open it." I shoved the cell phone into his hand. "I can't do it."

My heart was hammering, pounding so furiously that I began to feel lightheaded.

"Okay." He started to put in the passcode, his gold thumb ring shimmering in the diner's lights. Before I even realized that I'd done it, I snatched the phone back. His now-empty hand hovered open. "Okay."

"Sorry, I just—no. You do it."

I handed the phone back.

"Is this a thing? Are we going to keep passing the phone back

and forth?" he said. "If so, we should go home and do it in the nude. It'd be more interesting."

"Shut up." I backhanded his chest but managed to laugh. His unapologetic humor grounded me, and I calmed down a little bit. "Open it. I'm good. I won't snatch it again."

"You kids need something else?" Hattie, an older waitress who did shifts on the weekends, picked up the plate of nachos and smiled, red lipstick smeared across her veneers. "Drink? Snacks?"

"No thanks, ma'am." Drayton gestured the cell phone in my direction. "Got a whole meal right here."

"No thanks, Hattie," I answered quickly, attempting to keep the impatience out of my tone. "We're good.

"Okay." I inhaled. I exhaled. I nodded. "Do it."

Drayton unlocked the phone again. I looked up at his face instead of watching the screen. His eyes moved to mine for a second and he grinned. "Fuck, you're cute." He returned to the phone and I could hear the soft tap of his thumb pads getting closer and closer to knowing just what the future held.

The reflection was in his green gaze, but I couldn't read what he was reading. I just knew that when his brows pulled together, for a mere millisecond, my heart stopped. I didn't get in.

"You did it, Cheer," he looked at me and smiled so bright that he could have outshone the sun. "You did it. You got in."

"I got in?" I snatched the phone. It was hard to read the screen as adrenaline pumped through me and I felt dazed. "Where, where, oh there! Ah. Dray! I got in."

The phone clattered on the tabletop as I dropped it and dived on top of him. He tumbled into the corner of the booth but didn't fail to encase me in his strong hold. He buried his face in my neck and congratulated me over and over again. We hugged for a while. I read the email again. We kissed and he decided to make an announcement.

"If you know this girl right here," he shouted, "give her a congrats. She just got accepted to her dream college."

The entire diner didn't know who I was, but they all clapped regardless. It was sort of embarrassing, but sweet as well. Hattie, Kenzie, and Joe gave me a more personal congratulations, and after about fifteen minutes of reveling in success, I sighed in contentment and relaxed back into the seat. The email was still open.

"Dray." I peered up at my man, who was sipping a pop that Kenzie gave me on the house. "How come you seemed . . . disappointed when you read the email?"

"Disappointed? What are you talking about?"

"You sort of frowned when you were reading it."

"You're imagining things." He put the drink down and leaned both of his elbows on the tabletop, as if he was putting his back to me.

"I know that you frowned." I was gentle with the words. "Is it because I'll be going to California for sure now?"

"Cheer." He looked over his shoulder. "I didn't frown. I'm not disappointed. I was probably concentrating or looking for the paragraph. I don't know. I'm not disappointed. Why are you trying to start an argument?"

"I'm not."

"Stop with the accusations, then."

His leg bounced under the table as we fell silent. What the hell did I do that for?

"Have you written a letter of intent?" I asked when I couldn't handle the quiet for another moment. "Like, I don't even know where you're going to college."

His hands came together in front of his chin and he shook his head.

"So you don't know where you're going to college? Dray, you'll miss the deadline."

"Can we go?" He turned his knees toward me, wanting out of the worn leather booth.

Despite the fact that he was being a bit shut off and I'd unintentionally spoiled the good mood, he held my hand in the car.

"Dray, where are you going to college?"

He stared out of the windshield, turning the wipers on when a light rain began to fall. "I don't know. It depends on whether I can convince my dad to stop being a dick."

"Okay. Where do you want to go to college?"

"UCLA. It's a good school." His hand dropped mine so that he could turn on the blinker and the lights. The rain was getting heavier. "And it's close to you."

"Please don't choose a college based on me. It's too big. I don't want to change your plans."

He ignored me and drove with one hand on the wheel, his other fist resting in front of his mouth, elbow on the door. When we arrived at Drayton's house, we stood on the front patio. He watched the snow melting. Small clumps of white ice washed down the drive.

"Why shouldn't I pick a college that's close to you, Cheer?" He didn't look at me. "I want to be with you. It's a good school. It's in California. Not a lot of downfall that I can see."

"Because I wouldn't choose a school to be close to you." I stood in front of him, but he stared over my head. He looked hurt, biting the inside of his cheek. "I have a plan. I've had that plan for a long time and it's happening. I wouldn't change that, and you shouldn't have to change your plans for me."

"I didn't have a plan. I've never given it that much thought at all." His eyes met mine. "I was going to go to Baylor because that was how it had always been, and I didn't question it. But I don't care where I go to college. As long as I get to play the sport I love, what does it matter? My dad is the one with the fucking problem."

"That fight isn't something that I want to get in the middle of."

He scoffed and turned around. "Sounds like you really couldn't give a shit what happens to us."

"Excuse me?" I snapped. He didn't turn around. Rain fell on the awning, the pattering loud and in time with the pounding in my chest. "What the hell? Of course I care. But things don't have to change. And even if they do, it won't change how I feel."

He didn't respond. He kept his back to me, hands in his pockets. The college conversation had always been a bit of a sensitive subject because it had always been possible that we'd be apart. But if I had known that it would turn into this, I would have had it sooner.

"I'm leaving." I turned around and started down the steps, but then I remembered how much he hated it when I walked alone. I was mad, but I wasn't cruel.

It didn't seem to matter though. He stormed into rain and blipped the button for the Jeep. Unbelievable. I opened the passenger door and climbed in, my wet jeans squelching on the leather seat as I sat down. He drove in desolate silence. I was itching to continue the conversation, but I didn't have a clue what to say.

I didn't even know what he was so upset about. I wanted him to choose his own path and his own future without the influence of others. What was so awful about that?

He didn't even pull into the drive. He stopped at the curb and I got out. This was stupid. More ridiculous than I could even comprehend. But it seemed that we needed some space before we could talk this over.

I made it as far as the mailbox before I heard his door open and close. He flicked his hood up to shield his eyes from the rain.

"You seem to have a big opinion for someone who wants me to make my own choice." He threw his arms open and shrugged. "Thought it was up to me where I go to college."

"It is!"

"So what the hell is the issue if I choose UCLA?"

Drops of rain rolled over my face. My hair was sopping, clinging to my neck and chest. I held a hand above my brow so that I could look at him without blurred vision. It didn't help much.

"It's not an issue. Just don't do it for me."

"I can choose you if I want to, Dallas. I can still have a good education, a good future if I choose you."

"But what about your dad?"

"I'll worry about my dad," he shouted and stepped closer. The rain had drenched his maroon hoodie, darkening it. "Stop making excuses. Because it feels like you're pushing me away right now. I know that you didn't want a relationship, and that's what happened. Do you not want to be with me now that you're going to California?"

"Of course I want to be with you. That's the point that you're missing. We can be together no matter where either of us are."

"Sure, we can, but if I want to choose UCLA because the thought of living near my girlfriend makes me happy, then why shouldn't I?"

"Would your dad even allow that?"

The drain beside the sidewalk gurgled, our clothes were soaked, and it hurt to argue with the same person who made me feel whole.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm working on it."

I said nothing.

"I don't want to fight, Dallas. I'm going home," he told me

quietly. I almost didn't hear him over the rain. He watched me through the thick fall. "There's nothing wrong with being in love, Dallas. There's no weakness in making space for it in your life."

His words hit me. It was brutal and truthful, but it was some- thing that I'd been in denial over until I was watching him climb into his Jeep. He drove away, and the farther that he got, the more that I wanted him to come back.

We hadn't said I love you, but what he just said was an admittance of its own. As I ran inside, I thought about the fact that all I'd ever wanted was to stand alone. To be strong and accomplished without a man holding me down. I'd thought that it was weak to make a relationship as important as a career. Drayton had never held me down. He'd lifted me up.

"Hey." Nathan sat on the couch with a beer and his boxer shorts on. The football highlights were on television. Sunday. "Bit wet out there, huh?"

"CalArts emailed. I got in."

Nathan stood up, eyes wide and pride beaming in his smile. "Dude. That's so damn cool. Man. I am so proud."

He gave me an awkward hug. I was still dripping after standing in the rain and he wasn't wearing a lot of clothing. But I knew that he was overwhelmed with pride.

"Thanks, Nathan."

"We should celebrate? Let's . . . go out for dinner? Invite Drayton and Gabby. Whoever."

"I think that we should celebrate just the two of us." I smiled and headed toward the corridor. "I'll shower and dress first."

"I better put on some nicer clothes."

I knew that I had handled the argument all wrong. It had left me with a small bout of nausea, and I used the shower to disguise a few fallen tears. It felt wrong to know that Drayton assumed I didn't want him for the simple fact that I was off to a college in California. Did he believe that he was so disposable? And as much as I believed that we would be fine in separate states, his desperation to be close worried me. The whole fight left me upset and confused. I needed a bit of time to clear my head before I saw Drayton again. The next time that we spoke, I didn't want it to end in argument. Or worse.

Driving home from dinner, the road was slick. Nathan clutched the wheel and drummed his fingers along to the song coming from the stereo. It crackled. It was old.

"I know that you don't want to talk about it," he said and I sighed, letting my forehead press against the cold passenger window. "But I have to say something. Just one thing and then I'll let it go."

He'd figured out rather fast that I was having relationship issues when I stared at a plate of fries and garlic bread and refused to touch it. "Fine." I rolled my wrist. "What is it?"

"I wasn't a good example while you were growing up." My head whipped toward him. "I wasn't. I didn't hide my habits. There was nothing discreet about the girls I had coming in and out. There was no example of exclusivity, and I think that I unintentionally gave you this impression that relationships were the worst thing in the world."

"You can't take that sort of responsibility, Nathan. You were seventeen. No one expected you to be perfect."

He looked at me for a moment, shaking his head. "No, I could have done better. I should have. You took on the same habits that I had and I didn't want to admit it, but I knew that it was because of what you'd watched from an impressionable age. But, Dal, don't be afraid of your relationship. It's a good one. I can tell."

I watched him as he frowned, staring in front of him. "Nathan, I am who I am, and I've never considered that a bad thing. Drayton and I are having a . . . rough patch. But it hasn't changed how I feel about him."

"Who you are isn't a bad thing," he said. "But don't push him away out of fear. I know you, Dallas. I see more than you realize. You might not even realize that you're doing it."

The streetlights illuminated the car, casting shadows. I stared out of the fogged-up windshield and felt my stomach drop. "Can you drop me off at Drayton's, please?"

He didn't look at me. But he did smile.

When we pulled up at the gate, I handed Nathan my swipe card and he opened his window, allowing a burst of freezing-cold air to blast through the warm car. The gates opened and he drove slowly, careful until the enormous and luminous house came into view. Drayton's bedroom light was on.

"Thanks. I'll be back later. Maybe."

"You have school tomorrow," he warned me as I got out of the car. I shivered and gave him a quick wave before I jogged over to the front door, which opened before I could touch the bell.

"Dallas." Drayton encircled my wrist and pulled me into the warm house. His cap was on backward and he wore a snug long sleeve and sweatpants. He watched me with panic. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." My heart swelled at his concern. "Can we please talk?"

He nodded. I took my boots off and he wrapped his hand around mine and led me upstairs. His room was so warm that I pulled off my coat and scarf while he sat on the corner of his bed. The fire crackled and the flames flickered. I was more at ease than I'd been all afternoon. His presence, the familiarity of it, made me feel at home, and that was how I knew what I wanted. It was how I knew that it was okay to want it.

"I'm sorry for how I handled things this afternoon," I said, standing in front of him. I folded my arms and then unfolded them. I tugged on the long sleeves of my oversized sweater. I couldn't stop fidgeting. "I know how I feel. But you don't know how I feel unless I tell you. And I could do better with that. With verbalizing. I guess I was putting up a bit of a wall without realizing it. Because how I feel does scare me sometimes, Dray."

He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped as he looked up at me. "And how do you feel, Dallas?"

I felt breathless. "I love you."

His lips parted and his gaze grew wide. He stood slowly and cautiously. "Tell me again," he murmured. He stood so close that I had to tip my head back to see the enamored expression on his face.

"I love you, Drayton. And it does scare me. Because this is new. But I feel it and you need to hear it. Of course I want you close when we go to college. The closer, the better. But I love you enough to know that if we aren't dealt the cards that we want, I will still love you."

His hand cupped the nape of my neck and he pushed our mouths together. There were times when his lips had a language of their own, one that I could understand. One that I could speak. I felt it before he said it. "I love you too." He held my face, his forehead on mine. "So much."

"No matter what happens," I said, raising my arms to clasp my fingers behind his neck.

He spun us around and I fell backward onto the bed. He crawled over me and looked down with so much love that it was electric. His touch ignited me. His kiss reminded me how to breathe even as it stole the air from my lungs. Loving Drayton had never been hard. It had happened on its own. It had taken the wheel and I never wanted it back. But for a while, I'd focused so hard on what I wanted that I forgot to focus on what I deserved. The perspective was breathtaking.

"Please tell me again," Drayton murmured against my throat as his hand popped the button on my jeans. "I love you, baby. Tell me that you love me."

"I love you, Drayton."

Drayton had always been supportive and celebrated my success, just as I'd done for him. I was wrong to assume that a relation- ship would make me weak. I could still achieve everything that I'd ever wanted. Having him there beside me, cheering me on, lifting me up, that was a privilege. I loved him and I knew that he loved me too. We'd be okay.