The place Will takes me to is just down the street from the hospital. When he opens the door of the diner, I'm assaulted by a wave of pastel-colored uniforms and the smell of tomato sauce. I scan the faces, searching for one.

"You okay?" Will asks when I don't follow him straight away.

"I thought maybe my sister might be here," I say, even though I know how unlikely it is. Like me, Cassie brings a home-packed lunch with her every day.

He slides into an empty booth with red upholstered benches and I squeeze in across from him. "Would she mind you being here?"

"It's never happened before."

Inside, I know she wouldn't like this. She'd want to know 'why' when my standard response to any notice from guys is to scurry away and hide in my room. I sweep the space again, my gaze stopping at each face just in case I missed her. When I'm sure she's not there, I let out a quiet breath.

An older man with a stained apron approaches us. Even before my jacket is off, he thrusts menus at Will and rushes off to deliver the plates of spaghetti he juggles on his bent arm.

Will lays his menu aside and passes me the other. "Hope you like Italian. The waitstaff aren't the nicest, but the sandwiches are good."

There is a page full of dishes to choose from, but I'm at a loss, not sure which to pick. I shoot a look over my shoulder to see if the server will return soon. At the table across from us, three women in their fifties talk in loud voices about someone named Mary. I wish I could relax and be like them. Instead, I'm like the poor stone soldier stationed at the doors of Everest, forever at attention, with a stiffness in my shoulders and back that I can't shake.

It doesn't help that Will keeps staring at me as if it's not just food that's brought us here.

"I'm having the Chicken Parmigiana sandwich," he says, as if he senses my discomfort. "Want me to order two?"

"Sure." I place the menu down at the edge of the table, relieved to have that part done with.

"You and your sister don't go to restaurants?" he asks after a moment.

I shake my head.

"Do you..." He stops when the server approaches with two glasses of water. Only when the man has scribbled our orders onto his curled notepad and disappeared into the kitchen does he continue, "Do you not like eating out?"

"There's no money for restaurants."

"But your dad's a surgeon..." he says, with a puzzled look.

It disconcerts me the way people know things about me I've never revealed. "He is." My fingers trace the cracks on the wooden table. "But it's complicated."

My eyes flicker up to see how he takes my words, but he only stares across at me without comment. We sit in silence for several minutes. I use the time to scan the menu again, reading descriptions and picking out dishes I'd like to try making at home since Cassie expects me to make dinners twice a week. When I lift my head, Will is still staring.

Time to introduce a new subject.

"Nick was nice to me the other day. And this morning he said hello," I say as if I've won some big prize.

"Ah." Will runs his hand over his jaw with its day-old stubble. "I'd say Nick is up to his old tricks."

I play with my napkin and wait for him to say more. "He's moved on to Plan B." When I raise a questioning brow, he adds, "You rejected him and he can't take rejection in any form. So, Plan B."

"You heard about me not wanting to go to the movie?"

"Nick was complaining on Saturday... at the movie."

"Then why has he been so friendly lately?"

"Well," he says, with a shrug. "It's Nick we're talking about. He's moody, and he thinks he's entitled to whatever, and whoever, he wants. Maybe he's giving you a second chance to fall for him."

"Captain of the basketball team. Student Body President, MVP. I've seen the trophies in the case."

"That's Nick in a nutshell." He frowns. "I haven't met a girl who didn't eventually fall for his bullshit."

"There's been a lot of girls?" I ask, more for something to say than out of genuine interest.

"Even ones who should know better."

His tone brings my gaze to his eyes. I set the napkin aside, but a moment later, I take it up again and ball it in my fist. "It won't be me if that's what you're thinking."

"It would make you unique if that's true," he says. "Time will tell."

"Not for me, it won't."

He doesn't answer but reaches for his glass, the purse of his lips oozing skepticism.

"It won't be me," I say again.

"Why not?" he asks, challenging me. He folds his arms on the table, giving me his full attention.

"I don't like pushy people. Besides, I don't date."

"Ever?" His dark eyes widen. "Shut up. There's no way."

"Nope."

"Why?" He's curious, but his face hasn't lost the skepticism, as if he thinks I'm full of it.

The server emerges from the kitchen with two plates he places on the table. I stare down at an enormous chicken sandwich on a Kaiser bun slathered in sauce. Will picks his up with both hands and takes a bite.

I follow his lead. The taste of fried chicken, tomato sauce, and melted cheese blend on my tongue. "Good." I give him a thumbs up as I chew thoughtfully.

He smiles and offers me a napkin from the dispenser tucked beside his left elbow. "You've got some sauce... everywhere."

I laugh and dab at my cheeks. Sauce covers the napkin I drop. "You can't take me anywhere." I stretch my hand out for another napkin and he passes me a few.

"Why don't you date?" he asks as soon as I've taken another bite.

I'm torn-unsure how to explain this or if I even have to. The words play out in my head first. I don't like being touched. All guys ever want is sex. I'd rather die than let a guy touch me that way again. I give up, unable to say it.

I chew the food in my mouth and swallow. "I just don't,"

He takes another bite, but all the while, he mulls over my words. The silence between us grows and I cave. He's been nice to me and he deserves more. "I'm just looking for friendship. Nothing more. There's no point when that's all you want."

He turns his head, but not fast enough to stop me from seeing how the smile fades from his eyes.

The food on my plate no longer seems as appealing. A heavy sadness settles over my shoulders, weighing me down. I should feel stupid for letting my guard down, but mostly I'm disappointed in myself for thinking he might be different. I should have known a guy like him wouldn't just want to be friends.

No one ever does.

[Author's Note:

The next installment comes out on Thu at 9:15.

Let me know if you are enjoying the book so far with a vote or a comment!]