I sucked in a breath. "I don't know . . ." I started to mock, playing along with his amused tone. "If he didn't tell you . . ."

He threw his head back and made a frustrated sound. "Wait." All of a sudden he turned serious. "You haven't started dating my dad have you?"

"Ew!" I squealed, pushing on his chest. He fell back on the ground, laughing. "That's just wrong."

"I know." He actually sounded relieved. "You don't need to tell me that."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You're such an idiot."

"I know. You don't need to tell me that, either."

Then it was quiet for a beat.

"So?" He raised his eyebrows. "What's your major, and what does Dad have to do with it?"

I tried to pick my words carefully. It wasn't just about my major, or his dad. It was about him, too, but he didn't need to know that. "Your dad helped me decide, I guess. I've switched to psychology."

His lips turned up at the corners. His expression was one I knew well; pride. It made my heart hurt. I swallowed, wary of his reaction. "I want to focus on children's services. I want to work with neglected and um . . ." I paused to take a breath. ". . . abused kids."

He sat up, resting his weight on his arms behind him. "Huh." His eyes were unfocused, staring into the distance. He pulled his knees up and settled his elbows on them. "That's great, Amanda." He tilted his head to face me. "You're going to be amazing."

Yeah, I thought. We could've been amazing together.

"So." He nudged my side, trying to lighten the mood. "How did my dad help you decide?"

"I think I may have said too much already. Maybe you need to ask him that one."

He chuckled. "Okay then . . ."

We both started to speak at the same time, but he held his hand out towards me. "Ladies first," he said.

"How long have you been back?"

"A couple weeks."

"So everyone knows you're here?"

"Nope, just Dad, and now you."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "You know Micky, she'd throw a party."

I laughed. She would.

"I just want to lay low for a bit, have time to get my shit together." He lay back down on the grass and linked his fingers behind his head.

And that's when I saw it—words tattooed on the inside of his bicep. My fingers moved on their own, lifting his sleeve so I could read it.

His entire body stiffened when my skin made contact with his. "Sorry," I whispered, but didn't remove my hand. Tilting my head to read the script easier, I said the words out loud, "Transit umbra, lux permanet . . ." I looked at him, confused.

He raised his hand to move my hair behind my ear.

Thump. Thump.

Logan

Her phone sounded, interrupting us. ‘Hey There Delilah’ played.

Tyson.

I watched her face light up. She excused herself and reached for her phone. "Tyson," she greeted. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

She waited for a response, and then a slow laugh built up. "I was just at a party, you know Twiggy . . . uh-huh . . . Yeah."

She paused, eyeing me with a seriousness I hadn't expected. "No, nothing exciting, I'm actually just heading home now." She got to her feet. "Skype me tomorrow, okay?"

I came to a stand. She fidgeted with the hem of my hoodie; it was longer than the dress she wore. "Yeah," she said quietly, looking away from me. "I love you, too."

For the second time that night, my stomach hit the floor.

She loved Tyson.

She placed the phone in her bag then looked up at me and smiled. "You'll never guess what Tyson's doing now."

Like I fucking gave a shit. "Oh yeah?" I faked. "What's he doing?" Apart from banging the girl I'm in love with?

"He's on a world tour." She sounded so proud; it kind of made me sick. "Guess who with?"

"Who?"

She started walking back to the party. "John Mayer."

I choked on air. "No way?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"So, that must be hard, you guys dating, and him all over the place."

"What?" she huffed. "We're not dating."

"But you told him you loved him?"

"I do love him." She shrugged, and started walking faster.

Amanda

I don't know why I openly announced that I loved Tyson. Maybe it was because I wanted to see his reaction. Maybe deep down I wanted him to hurt.

The second the words were out of my mouth, it seemed like a light switched off inside him. His eyes dimmed, his features flattened.

I walked faster away from him. I couldn't stand to see it. His pain would still cause my heart to break, and I didn't need that.

I didn't deserve that.

The walk back to my car seemed to take forever. I made the mistake of moving closer to him when a bunch of guys started walking towards us. The self-defense classes had helped, not just my confidence in unknown situations, but also the immediate panic I would get when faced with the slightest of threats. I felt his body stiffen next to me, and then slowly, and carefully, he placed his arm around my shoulders, bringing me even closer to him. As soon as I felt safe, I shrugged out of his hold. I didn't want to mess with his head. I didn't want him to think it was okay to do stuff like that, to feel the need to protect me, or whatever.