Aiden shakes his head and holds out a stick with one of the dares, which is definitely something you wouldn’t want your friends to watch you do.

“Maybe it’s more of a couple’s game,” I say. “Did you get another gift this morning?”

“Yeah, I think Maggie might be my Santa. She was in our dorm, supposedly picking up Logan, but he always meets her.”

“I don’t know who anyone has except for Katie. She’s bad at keeping secrets.”

“Who does she have?”

“Dallas. Yesterday she gave him a six-pack that she decorated so that each beer bottle looked like a reindeer. Today it was a t-shirt with a porcupine that says Do I make you thorny?”

“That’s funny,” Aiden says. “Wanna see what I got?”

“Sure.”

He untucks his shirt and pulls it up.

“Ohmigawd.” I laugh at the downward pointing, pink arrow-shaped sticky note he has stuck to his stomach. “Kiss me here, huh?” I ask, reading it.

He gives me an adorable grin. “I wanted to give you first dibs.”

I pull the sticky note off and put it on my notebook. “I better be the only one you’re offering dibs on the Titan.”

“The what?”

My eyes get big, realizing what I just said.

Shit.

“The, uh . . .”

Aiden gives me a panty-melting smirk. “You named it?”

“I didn’t mean to tell you. Now you’re going to get a big head.”

He chuckles, playfully pulls me into his body, and puts his mouth near my ear. “If it’s called the Titan, it must already have a big head.”

“I got my Greek mythology screwed up when I named it.”

He glances at his watch, noting that we need to get to class. “We’re going to finish this conversation tonight.”

Hawthorne’s Sweetheart.

Ceramics

Jake leans over when our ceramics teacher goes into the kiln room and says, “You’re going to be Hawthorne’s Sweetheart, Monroe.”

I squint my eyes at him. “What’s that?”

He shakes his head. “I always forget you’re new. You know how for Homecoming and Prom we choose royalty?”

“Yeah.”

“We don’t for Winter Formal. Instead, each dorm chooses a girl to represent their house for the upcoming year. To be their Sweetheart. It’s a big honor.”

“Who’s the Sweetheart now?”

“Peyton. Why do you think she won Homecoming Queen? Our whole house voted for her.”

“I didn’t know that. What does she have to do?”

“Be friends with the guys.”

“Ohmigawd, Jake. Tell me it’s not because I’ve kissed a lot of the boys in your dorm!”

Bryce laughs at me but Jake says, “That’s not at all what it’s about. It’s an honor. We choose a girl we think is cool. Someone the younger guys can look up to. A hot big sister. Someone they can come to if they’re having girl troubles. Stuff like that. It was between you, Maggie, and Ariela. Ariela is super pretty, but she’s a little too reserved. Maggie is awesome, but she slept with her ex’s best friend. As the prefect who makes the final decision, I just have a problem with that.”

“I almost slept with you to get back at Dawson.”

“But you didn’t. Even drunk, you didn’t. We all know that.”

I have a flash of Aiden and me being crowned Homecoming King and Queen.

But it’s a fairy tale that will never happen. I won’t be here next year. I won’t even be here for Prom.

And that makes me sad.

I wish we could have the Prom of our dreams after the kind of Proms we both had last year.

I close my eyes for a minute and breathe.

We’ll just have to make sure Winter Formal is special.

And I need to talk Jake into choosing someone else.

“I’m not sure if I’d give good advice.”

“You will. I’m sure of it,” Jake tells me. “And when you win, act surprised.”

So damn stubborn.

Soccer

Before soccer practice starts, Cooper inquires about my hamstring.

“I think maybe I should sit out today. Could I go in your office and make some phone calls?” I ask.

“What for?” he whispers.

“Can we talk about it after practice. I have something I need to tell you.”

“Why don’t you go take a whirlpool and then we’ll stretch after practice,” he says loudly so that my teammates can hear.

“Thanks,” I say.

After practice, he meets me in the training room.

“So what were the calls about?”

“We’re going back to Malibu on Thursday.”

Cooper’s face turns a shade of pissed-off red. “Are you fucking nuts?”

“Calm down!” I whisper softly, but firmly. “I have to do something. I can’t let what happened stop my plan. I also need to go back to honor her.”

“You’re not going to the funeral.”

“No, that wouldn’t be right, since I didn’t know her. We’ll be honoring her at the club.”

“No. No fucking way are you going back there. I’ll quit before I’ll allow that.”

“Fine. Then I accept your resignation.”

Cooper bangs his fist on the table. “Oh, you are so damn stubborn.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Cooper. I have to do something. I can’t let him get away with it.”

“He might not get away with it. The police are going to question him.”

“That’s awesome news. He deserves to go to jail. But knowing him, he’ll get off. And knowing him, he’ll be back at the club on Thursday to see if I have the balls to show up.”

“I want to know your entire plan now. We can’t go out the back again. We have to have a different plan. Something . . .” Cooper says.

“More dramatic?” I laugh, knowing my plan is just that.

“No, I was thinking safe.”

“We’re going out the front door, Cooper. I just need you to make sure I get there and then to . . .”

I tell him my escape plan.

Cooper slaps his forehead. “You seriously have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Think it will work?”

“It’s not like he’ll be able to follow us. But you told me that when you were in Miami he had a gun. The photos he’s sent to your mom and Brooklyn involved shooting. What if he decides to start shooting? Creates a distraction to get you out. Or, worse, to clear a path to you.”

“I think—well, hope—that he’ll be too shocked to do anything. And by the time he realizes what’s happening, we’ll be gone.”

“Let me think this through, okay.”

I nod, shutting up.

“It sounds more like a movie than real life,” he finally states.

“That’s why it’s perfect. He’ll never expect it. And if you can get your friends to help, I’ll stay safe.”

Cooper shakes his head at me. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The one crying.

6:15pm

Since there’s a home basketball game tonight, we eat pizza and get ready in the dance locker room.

Once I have my dance uniform on and my hair fixed, I text Aiden.

Me: Good luck tonight.

Hottie God: Thanks. Tonight is a big game, but I have to admit, my thoughts are on you wearing candy. Did I mention I have a sweet tooth?

Hottie God: And tongue.

Whew. Is it hot in here?

I use a pompom to fan my face.

Me: I like your tongue.

Hottie God: It likes you too. I have to go. What outfits are you wearing tonight? Are they nice and short?

Me: Very skimpy as usual.

Hottie God: Perfect.

The game is very back and forth. It’s also really rough. Dawson has already fouled out and Ace is close. Aiden makes a great defensive play, stealing a pass and running down the court for the fast break score. But as he goes up for the ball, he’s badly fouled and falls down on the ground hard.

I hold my breath as he lies on the ground, holding his ankle and writhing in pain.

The trainer runs out onto the court and helps him limp off. He isn’t even able to shoot his own free throw.

He sits on the end of the bench and the trainer tries to remove his shoe.

Aiden winces in pain and shakes his head, so the trainer takes him to the locker room.

Dallas is sitting low in the bleachers ogling Kassidy, so I try to catch his eye.

That doesn’t work. So I figure, screw it.

I get up and march over to Peyton. “I’m going to the boys’ locker room.”

“You can’t go in there,” she tells me. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just a twisted ankle.”

I stare at her.

“Okay, fine,” she finally says. “Run down and get all our glitter gloves.”

I smile at her. “Thank you.”

I go out a side gym door, race down to the locker area, barge into the training room, and find Aiden getting his shoe cut off.

“Are you okay?” I ask panicked.

“Not sure. Sprained my ankle for sure. It’s so swollen that we can’t get my shoe off.”

“That’s good right? Usually they aren’t broken when they swell up that fast?”

“I’ve never heard that,” the trainer says.

I can see the pain on Aiden’s face. I want to make it go away.

“I’m fine,” he says, gritting his teeth as the trainer cuts away his sock.

I peek at his ankle. “That looks like it hurts,” I say, stating the obvious.

“What do you want to do, Aiden?” the trainer asks. “We can do RICE or take you to the hospital now for an X-ray.”

“What’s RICE?” I ask.

“Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation,” Aiden says. “Let’s go with that. And some ibuprofen, please.”

The trainer walks into the storage room, so I move to Aiden’s side. “It’s really swollen.”

He holds my hand. “I’m okay.”

Tears start to fall from my eyes. I know it’s stupid. I know he’s not seriously hurt.

He reaches up and wipes away my tears. “Shouldn’t I be the one crying?”

“I don’t like to see you hurt, Aiden.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve twisted an ankle.”

I know what he’s saying is true, but he looks just like he did that day in the chapel. And the day at the pep rally. And it breaks my heart to think I’m going to cause him more hurt soon.

Leaving him.

Telling him I’ve been lying to him.

The trainer comes back in the room, hands Aiden some Advil and water, wraps his ankle, and says, “The game’s almost over. Why don’t we get you set up in your room before everyone starts coming out of the gym.”

Once the trainer gets Aiden into bed, with a pillow propping up his foot, he gives him a few more instructions and leaves.

“I have some pain pills left from when I got stitches. Do you want one?” I ask him as I gingerly sit on the corner of his bed.

“Let’s see how the Advil works first, but I might take you up on that later.” He makes a sad face.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re supposed to go to Stockton’s tonight.”

“We can go there any night, Aiden. The candy will wait.”

I move closer to him and run my hand gently through his hair.

He leans back on his pillow, closes his eyes, and falls asleep.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH

ifly.

5am

Aiden texts me, waking me up.

Hottie God: I’m going to get X-rays this morning. Swelling is better than last night, but I can’t put any weight on it. Sorry if this wakes you up. I can’t sleep.

Me: Does it still really hurt?

Hottie God: Not as bad, unless I try to stand.

Me: Text me and let me know what they say.

Hottie God: I will. ifly.

Me: ifly too, Aiden.

Things heat up.

French

I learn absolutely nothing in class this morning. My mind is too busy worrying about both Aiden and my trip tomorrow.

When Aiden walks into French class with a boot on his foot, I almost want to cry again.

“You didn’t text me,” I say.

“Sorry, I forgot my phone.”

“Should you be walking on it?”

“That’s what the boot is. A walking cast.”

“It’s broken?”

“No, just sprained. The boot will help support it, and I won’t have to deal with crutches.” He laughs. “Now we’re both Boots.”

I look more closely at his eyes. “Did they give you pain medication?”

“Yeah, I feel pretty good right now. About ready to fall asleep, though.”

“I don’t think you should be in class.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Why don’t I see if Miss Praline will let me take you to your room.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “That sounds even better.”

I tell Miss Praline that Aiden isn’t supposed to be in class because he’s drugged up and ask if I can take him to his room.

Thankfully, she gives me a pass.

I barely get Aiden situated on his bed before he’s pulling me onto his lap and kissing me hard.

Things heat up very quickly and soon he’s taking off my blazer and unbuttoning my blouse.

“I should probably lock your door,” I tell him, getting up quickly to do just that.