It’s light blue with the town’s emblem on the breast, and I turn it over, seeing the same Van der Berg Extreme logo covering the whole back. It’s just like Noah’s, only his is white.

I grin. “Is this your way of telling me you want your clothes back?”

“Just thought you might like something that fits you a little bet—” He pauses, rethinking. “Actually, my clothes look pretty good on you. I just thought you’d like something new is all.”

Yeah. I love it. I don’t have many T-shirts of my own. Just school ones, and those don’t have good memories, so this one will be fun to wear.

I look at the burgundy-colored cap with the word WILD written in cursive.

“It was either that or DIVA,” he says.

I laugh and pull it onto my head, peering at him under the bill. “I am a DIVA,” I allow. “But I’d rather be a wild diva.”

I reach in, wrapping one arm around his neck for a quick hug. “Thanks.”

I pull away, but his arm is around my waist, holding me to him for a real hug. I falter, taken back.

But then, I tighten my embrace.

It feels good—hugging someone who doesn’t want to pull away first.

“My mom calls me sometimes,” he says, his voice low and pained. “My dad doesn’t know.”

I back up, releasing him, so I can look in his eyes.

“Not sure why I’m telling you.” His voice is quiet. “She wants money in her commissary account.”

I watch him, listening. No one talks about her. I don’t even know why she’s in jail.

“And I put the money in her account, because I let myself enjoy the idea for a moment that she needs me.” He gives me a sad smile, looking so solemn. So serious. Not Noah. “Even though I know I’m just the first person she assumes she can take advantage of. She knows my dad won’t talk to her. That Kaleb can’t talk to her.”

Noah can’t talk to Jake. I gathered that much in my first week here.

He doesn’t have anyone in that house to really connect to. I never really saw that before.

“I wish she was dead.” Noah stares at the floor but then looks up at me. “I wish she was dead, because then I could love her.”

I stare at him, and he stares at me, both of us barely breathing but calm.

He steps closer, “Would you rather be used than never thought of at all?”

“Would you rather be never thought of at all or used?” I throw back.

Even now, I’m not sure. At least his mother knows he exists and can put on a show of love, even if it’s fake.

But then…at least my parents didn’t lie to me. They didn’t toy with me or jerk me around. I always knew where I stood.

Who had it worse? Him or me?

“Try the shirt on before we leave,” Noah says.

I blink at the sudden change in subject.

He steps closer, a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago as he backs me up farther into the corner.

“I don’t want it too tight,” he explains.

He hovers, his body an inch from mine as he looks down at me.

What? Here? My eyes flash to the store around us.

“Noah…”

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he whispers, cutting me off. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Why do you want me here so much?”

“Why not?”

I study his eyes. “Because when you leave, I won’t be wherever you go.”

He falls silent, but his gaze doesn’t leave mine. He wants to leave here so badly, and he will. Eventually.

Eventually, I’ll leave, too. He doesn’t need me. He needs a life raft.

Looking around and not seeing anyone around us, I shield myself between him and the corner as I pull off his old T-shirt I’m wearing and hand it to him.

Refitting my cap, I slip my arms through the new one, his eyes on me making my skin tingle as I avoid his gaze.

My bra covers more than a bikini, and I’m still in my jeans. Overall, I’m much more dressed than I was at the lake all those weeks ago when they took me fishing.

But with my hair hanging in two scraggly braids, a baseball hat, and dirt under my fingernails for the first time in my life, I’ve never felt this pretty.

How he looks at me…

How Jake looks at me…

How Kaleb refuses to look at me, but I know he’s aware of my every move when we’re in the same room.

The skin of my breasts, only half covered in my hot pink bra, burns with fire under Noah’s gaze, and I pull the shirt on over my head, feeling Noah’s hands brush my arms as he reaches up to help pull it down over my body.

I fix my hat again, his fingers still gripping the hem below my hips.

I’m afraid to meet his eyes but I can feel the heat rolling off him.

“The local guys don’t talk to you,” he orders in a raspy voice. “They don’t touch you tonight. Do you understand?”

I nod, still not meeting his gaze. My heart pumps so hard it hurts, but my stomach is flipping like I’m riding a roller coaster.

He finally releases me and backs up. “It looks nice.”

What does?

Oh, the shirt. Right.

“Tiernan,” someone calls.

And I dart past him to get my prescription, anything to get away.

Hours later, I’m twirling in my room, smiling as my new summer dress fans out along with my hair. It’s too cold to wear this tonight, but I’m going to anyway. After seeing it on sale in a shop earlier, I got an itch to clean under my fingernails and put on some make-up for my birthday dinner, since this could very well be the last time we hit town. A storm is coming.

U2’s “Dancing Barefoot” plays, and I move, closing my eyes and running my hands up under my hair. My homework is desperately late, I have missed calls—probably birthday wishes from Mirai and friends of my parents—and my shipment of paperbacks to get me through the winter is delayed in Denver, but… I deleted all my social media and I’m now a legal adult, completely in charge of where I can go and what I can do, so any weight on my shoulders feels a lot lighter now. I’m actually excited, even though the guys are busy dreading the boring coming months.

I spin and spin, but then I spot a figure out of the corner of my eye and stumble to a stop, seeing Kaleb standing in the hallway. He looks like he just came down from his room, paused in the middle of pulling on his T-shirt as he watches me.

My pulse quickens. It’s unsettling to have his attention, because I’m never sure what he’s thinking, but I always feel like it’s not good.

Stalking over, I kick the door shut, smiling to myself as I pick up my heels and sit on the bed, sliding my feet in. I feel great, and I’m not letting him ruin my night. Carter, my parents’ security, is taking care of the house back in L.A., Mirai and our lawyer are handling all of my parents’ estate business, and for the first time in my life I get to be a kid tonight. Smiling, laughing, playing, being around people who care about me… It seems weird that I finally get that on the day I become an adult, but I won’t analyze it. I’m taking it.

Buckling up my Louboutins, a Christmas gift from my parents last year—courtesy of Mirai, of course—set with pretty crystals and five-inch heels, I grab a cream-colored shawl to go over my dark pink dress and head out of the room.