At one point, I woke to the feeling of a blanket settling over me. Then Blaise pulled me against his chest, and I closed my eyes once more.

“I’m not always this bad, Aspen,” he whispered. “I promise.”

He was almost perfect to me.

18

Aspen

Blaise: Where are you?

Me: Still in bed.

It was Monday morning, just past nine, and I was tired. Not that I really had any reason to be, but I was. I was calling this an early vacation, since I was done with school. There was no reason to go, even though I wasn’t camping after all. And since I planned to ignore my graduation (they would mail me the diploma, I checked), this was the beginning of my summer.

I’d been planning all these summer camping trips, but Blaise had ruined those for me. Not that I couldn’t still go, but it would be different. I felt a slight panic thinking about that—thinking I might never want to camp alone again. No way. I’d still go. I’d start planning my next trip now.

Blaise: Come to school.

Me: No.

The phone rang a second later.

Blaise calling.

I answered, putting him on speaker and crawling out of bed. “What’s going on?”

“I’m annoyed you’re not here.”

I grinned, running the water to wash my face. “I’m done with school. I’ve completed all my classes. There’s no reason for me to show up.”

“I’m your reason.”

That felt nice, but I wasn’t going.

He seemed to know that, because he sighed. “Fine. There are parties every day this week. Can I talk you into going to any of them with me?”

I’d dipped my washcloth under the water, but I paused and pulled it back. Turning the water off, I waited, my chest tight. He wanted me to hang out with his friends? I didn’t people. At all. Blaise was becoming the exception.

“Hello?” he said. A bell sounded from his end and he cursed. “Shit. I gotta go. I’ll call later, okay?”

“Okay.” Thank God we didn’t have to finish this conversation. “Have a great day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Fuck you.”

I laughed, then ended the call and heaved a sigh of relief.

What do I do? I looked at myself in the mirror. I raised my eyebrow, digging at my reflection. Huh? I asked myself. What do you do when you’re falling for the popular bad boy and you’re completely out of your league?

I was an introvert. I was socially awkward. My only positives were that if you put me in front of a professional photographer, I photographed well, and my parents had money. That was it.

But my life wasn’t even a problem for me to complain about. What was I doing?

There was a knock on my bedroom door, and it pushed open. Miss Sandy walked in with her housekeeping cart. Seeing me, she jumped back.

“Ahh!” She sagged back against the door. “Miss Aspen! You scared me.” She took in the still-messy bed and my desk with an open bag of chips and my computer on it. My closet spilled clothes on the floor, and Blaise had left a blanket and pillow on my couch yesterday.

“Miss Aspen?” She seemed mystified.

So was I. Blaise had showed up Saturday night and then hung out most of the day yesterday, so the room was messy. He’d gone home when his mom called saying she wanted him to be there for dinner. I’d gotten a few texts late last night, so I knew he hadn’t stayed at his house. He was at Zeke’s, and he’d sent a picture—just him and Zeke playing video games all night. He hadn’t needed to reassure me, because I didn’t take him for a liar. The only thing he owed me was not to touch another girl until we knew what was going on between us.

But it was kinda nice to get the text too.

“Sorry,” I told Miss Sandy, surveying the mess.

“No.” She patted her chest, frowning. “Why are you not in school?”

Graduation was next Sunday. I just needed to play this so they didn’t start wondering about it—not until it had passed. “I’m not feeling well,” I lied with a smile.

“Oh no.” She crossed the room, putting the back of her hand to my forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, but one never knows.” She motioned me toward the bed. “Shoo, shoo. Get in bed. I’ll bring you everything you need.”

She hurried around the room as I crawled back under the covers. She picked things up, straightening the room, still doing her job. I had to smile at that. Miss Sandy, always the professional. When she came to one of Blaise’s shirts, she paused.

I groaned, realizing what it was.

The emblem on the shirt was a marijuana leaf making a sexually suggestive hand motion.

I knew that now.

She rotated swiftly to me. She put the shirt on the bed, then picked it back up and folded it, placing it on the arm of the couch. She looked at me, and I waited, biting down on my lip.

Sandy hadn’t come in yesterday.

Blaise had been here most of the day and no one knew. My mom had emailed me and come over once, knocking on the door to ask if I wanted to go with them to dinner in Los Angeles. They were going there for business and would be gone most of this week. I’d declined the dinner invite, and Blaise had left shortly after that for his own family dinner. He’d thought it was a hoot, standing behind the door while my mom was on the other side of it.

I’d just rolled my eyes at him because I’d already lost probably three years of my life, worrying he’d be caught. My mom wasn’t known for coming in and being motherly, but there had been times when she decided we needed a mother-daughter talk.

However, lately she’d seemed distracted, and I’d used that to my advantage. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to skip graduation, and I didn’t want to focus on it long enough to find the reason. I just knew once it had passed, I would breathe easier.

“Would you like tea for your morning breakfast?” Miss Sandy asked.

That’s it? That was all she was going to say?

I didn’t know if I was disappointed or overjoyed, but I nodded. “Yeah. That’d be great. And could I get just some egg whites?”

She paused in the doorway. “No toast this morning?”

I usually grabbed my own food, but since Miss Sandy thought I was sick, I knew she’d prepare a tray.

I tried to give her a smile, and I suddenly had a feeling she knew I was lying. “I’m good with just tea and the egg whites. Thank you, Miss Sandy.”

“Of course, Miss Aspen.” Her smile was tender. “You feel better, okay?”

I nodded and blinked back a tear as she shut the door. I collapsed into my bed, feeling like the worst person in the world. I hated lying, but this was graduation week. I needed to stay firm. I just had to.

I picked up my phone and took a picture of Blaise’s shirt, sending it to him.

Me: You left a memento. Miss Sandy found it.

Blaise: Aw, shit. Sorry.

Blaise: Who’s Miss Sandy?

Me: Your future worst nightmare.

Blaise: That sounds ominous. I’ll probably love her. Later.

He texted, informing me that Zeke was having people over to his house if I wanted to join. I told him about the sick lie, and that I was committed. I was hoping to have the flu all week. He wished me good luck, but said maybe he’d come to get sick with me.

I laughed, tossing the phone away, and went back to planning my next camping trip. Blaise was in my head, though, so I tried to use extra caution about ensuring my safety.

My mom called twice. Once before dinner, letting me know they were meeting my brother and some of his friends, because apparently Nate was in LA for some reason. Then she called back after dinner to tell me everything he was doing, that he was living with one of his best friends and talking about starting a company with his buddies.

I listened to her, my knees pulled up to my chest, and reached out to turn off my light. The moonlight still lit the room pretty well, but it felt right to me.

Hearing how Nate was doing, that he was doing well, was like a dagger to my heart.

I didn’t know why. I think it was my mom’s tone.

When the accident happened with Owen, it set everyone in the family on a weird course. It took us a long time to heal. But that healing had been the catalyst for them wanting to make things right with Nate. Life was short. My mom had started her hippie new lifestyle. My dad enjoyed his cigars more, and they’d changed their work focus. Instead of producing, they were directing more, which I knew they enjoyed.

Having Nate as part of the family had become a big thing for my mom.

She wanted him back in the fold, and she was trying. She and my dad were both trying, and I think things were better, but this was my older brother. He seemed to enjoy life away from us, and who could blame him?

Whatever.

It was all good.

I was happy my mom was happy, and I could hear in her voice that she was.

She said Nate had asked about me. “And of course I told him how great you’re doing in school—4.2 GPA, highest honors, and you’re never in trouble. Oh, and I told him how you’re still enjoying your little camping trips.” She sighed into the phone. “Oh, honey. He looks really good. He seems happy.”

That’s all my mom wanted.

“I’m glad for that, Mom,” I told her, keeping the tears out of my voice.

“You’re such a sweetheart. How’d I luck out getting you as my daughter?”