I am actually nervous about tonight…and Rowe. I can’t help but feel like maybe I bullied Rowe into going to the game tonight. Ty won’t let me talk about it anymore though. He says I’m turning into a girl, and I kinda am.

September in Oklahoma is strange. It’s pretty damn hot all day—and then at night, it’s super cold. I’m usually okay with being cold, so I keep my shorts on with the black long-sleeved shirt Rowe wore the other night. It smells like her, and I may never wash it again. Fuck, I am a girl.

We’re walking from our end of the hall to theirs when they walk out their door, and my god…

“Pick up your chin, bro. Your girl is smokin’,” Ty says, and I just smile because yes, she is. She’s wearing this blue dress that hugs her body and sways around her legs when she walks. Her feet are in flip-flops, but her hair is up, drawing my eyes to her bare shoulders and neck. I want to be a vampire.

The closer she gets to me, the more she blushes, and her hands are clinging to the wallet and thin sweater in her hands. She’s going to get cold later, and I should probably tell her to grab something a little warmer. But I don’t. This is a strategic move on my part.

“Hi,” she says, almost a whisper, her eyes looking down. My heart is pounding so loudly—I’m convinced everyone around me can hear it. Rowe and I haven’t talked much since the night on the ball field, and it feels like we’re starting over a bit. I want to hold her hand in the elevator, so I make it my challenge.

We step in, and Ty pulls Cass down on his lap; Rowe smiles when she watches the two of them. I wonder where Cass has been my brother’s whole life, because watching them just seems right. They’ve been dating for three weeks, but it feels like Cass has been a fixture with him for forever.

As the door closes, I slide my hand along the bar in the back until it bumps into Rowe’s, and when she doesn’t move away, I loop my pinky in with hers. Sparing a glance at her, I see her lip twitch into a faint smile. That’s a relief, because I’m not letting go now until I have to.

Rowe and Cass look more like sisters than Cass and Paige. Both are wearing their hair pulled high on their heads, and even though they’re both in dresses, they look like they just rolled in from the beach. “You look pretty,” I say, leaning closer to Rowe as we walk through the main lobby, and I take advantage of my nearness by threading my next finger through hers.

“You’re not going to believe this, but this is Paige’s dress,” she says, grinning and pulling up the side of the dress to hold it out a little.

“Wow. I didn’t think she had anything without bling.”

“I can’t believe you know what bling is,” Rowe says, smirking at me and raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, you haven’t seen what Ty and I have done to the place. We’ve gone full bling,” I say, making her laugh. I love it when she laughs—even her teeth are freakin’ hot. I bet she had braces growing up.

“Full bling, huh? I’m gonna need to see this,” she says, and I tuck that to the back of my mind for later, reminding myself that Rowe wants to see my room.

Other than the fact that their sons have decided to come to this school, my parents have no association with McConnell whatsoever, But looking at their tailgate set-up as we walk up—and the crowd that’s hanging out with them—you would think they were alumni super-boosters with buildings named after them.

“What is all this?” I ask, tugging on the McConnell fold-up chairs, sitting under the McConnell canopy, and next to the McConnell plates and napkins.

“We thought we’d leave the chairs and tent with you guys. Just something fun,” my mom says, leaning in to kiss me and noticeably eyeing the girl standing behind me.

“Your mother just likes a reason to shop. We couldn’t even fit the tent in the damn rental car. I had to tie it to the roof,” my dad says, reaching over to shake my hand, and eyeing Cass and Rowe behind me just as mom did.

“Mom, Dad, this is Rowe and Cass,” I say, reaching back to regain the fragile grip I had on Rowe’s hand. She grips me a little harder now, and I can tell she’s nervous.

“Cass, we have heard absolutely nothing about you,” Dad says, pushing his sunglasses into the pocket on his shirt, and for a moment, Cass looks mortified. “That must mean you’re pretty special. We only hear the breakup stories, and we used to get one of those a week.”

“It was touch-and-go there for a while,” Cass says, and Ty’s face looks panicked. “I painted his room pink.” And Ty’s smile is back quickly.