“I just need…a minute.” I looked down at the gravel and grass, which were illuminated by the moonlight.

“Just breathe, Delilah.” His hand was on my back again, and he slowly counted down from ten, his voice low and soothing. I couldn’t help get lost in it and let it cloud my thoughts.

“You a shrink or something?” I joked, as I finally started to come back around.

“No, but I’ve seen my fair share.”

“So you’re crazy. Good to know.”

“Just needed someone to talk to,” he said.

I got that. I got it more than Abel realized. I didn’t know what I’d do without Marie, but there were things I couldn’t even tell her. It was like a brick resting on my chest, on my conscience. It weighed a ton, and I would have loved to have someone help me carry it, take some of the pressure off me, but Brock was out of reach. I could picture him right then, and it made my heart hum.

“Good morning.” Brock stuck his head inside my room, and I jumped from my bed.

“You’ll get in trouble if they catch you in here.”

Brock stepped farther into my room and crossed his arms over his chest, a playful smirk on his lips. “Do you want me to leave?”

I bit my lip as I stared at him. I shook my head, and he smiled at me.

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“They’ll make you. They’ll take away your privileges.” I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice so no one would hear.

“It’ll be worth it, Bird.”

My heart raced at his nickname for me, and for the millionth time, I wanted to ask him what it meant, but my heart was stuck in my throat, and that was when I noticed a sadness in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Nothing.” He laughed nervously and shook his head.

“Seriously? You have to tell me, or I’m going to scream.”

His eyebrow cocked as if he were challenging me. I opened my mouth, but before the sound left my throat, Brock’s body was flush against mine, his strong hand over my mouth as he smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, Bird? That’s not very nice. I thought we were friends.”

I tried to ignore the fact that he had called me his friend. It boggled my mind that he’d risk getting into trouble just to be near me—not that I was complaining. His hand slid from my mouth, and I sucked in a ragged breath, suddenly very aware of his hard, muscular body, which was pressed against mine. His eyes narrowed, and the smirk fell from his lips as we studied each other.

“Want to know why I’m sad?” he said. “My mom called this morning to let me know my grandma died. She isn’t even getting me out to go to her funeral back in Boston.” His arm fell from my waist, and I wobbled on my feet as my emotions went from one extreme to the next along with Brock’s. My heart was racing from his nearness and breaking over his pain.

“I’m sorry.” I had no idea what to say. I’d never had a friend, let alone had to comfort one while he or she was hurting.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Bird.” He shrugged, the sad gaze now carefully masked behind a blank stare. “Shit happens, right?” he spat angrily.

I nodded as I picked at my thumbnail.

“Hey.” He stepped closer, the palm of his hand sliding over my cheek, and I struggled not to lean into his touch. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you. This isn’t your problem.” He stepped back, his hand falling to his side as he turned to leave the room.

“Wait,” I whisper‐yelled after him as he stepped into the hall. “Wait for me.” I followed after him, and his lips formed a smile.

“Always, Bird.”

“Where did you go just now?” Abel was in front of me, his face full of concern. I felt like a fool, getting lost in my memories.

“I just spaced out.” I forced a laugh. “I must really be high.”

He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked worried. I walked toward the house. Maybe if I hung out with Trish, I could stop thinking about my problems. Abel walked with me, but he stayed a step behind.

“Trish?” I called out as I stepped inside. I walked into the living room, and Trish was on one of the guys’ laps as she kissed him fiercely, her hips rocking to the beat of whatever song was playing. She was still fully clothed, but something told me it wouldn’t be long until that changed. Douche bag number two was watching them intently, his hand down the front of his jeans. “Trish!”

She pulled back from the guy’s face but kept her hands on his cheeks as she turned to look at me. Her smile grew wide, and I took a step back.

“You wanna join?” Her high‐pitched laugh turned my stomach, and I shook my head as I spun around, nearly running into Abel. “I knew you weren’t completely worthless.”

“It’s the drugs. Just ignore her,” he whispered, but I even as I tried to feel anger instead of sadness, tears filled my eyes. It was an odd relief for the dryness of my high, and I wanted to let everything out but not in front of this guy. I refused to look like any more of a f**king loser. I didn’t need to do anything, though; Trish took care of that for me. It was high school all over again.

“Whatever. It’s not like Brock would care anyway. He never even calls you.” She made a snorting sound as she laughed, and I found it fitting that she sounded like a pig as she made fun of me. The guys on the couch didn’t seem to care about the ugliness she spewed, because she was pretty on the outside, and that’s all that ever mattered.

I pushed by Abel and stopped in front of the door. I couldn’t just leave her there. I wasn’t that kind of person. Instead I turned toward the other archway and walked into a small kitchen.

My eyes fixed on a tan piece of trim that looked severely out of place in the dilapidated house. I glanced at the refrigerator, and my stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Abel’s voice was hushed, and the smell of weed and his cologne filled the musky room. I nodded, feeling like a fool for not leaving.

He walked around me and pulled open a cupboard. Inside was a plastic grocery bag full of goodies. He placed it on the island and smiled as he looked at me.

“Always be prepared.” He pulled out a box of cookies and a bag of chips.

“You’re a Boy Scout. I think I liked you better when I thought you were crazy,” I joked, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“I never said I wasn’t crazy.” His eyebrows rose as he held up the cookies. I nodded, and he slid over to me as he pulled a small bottle from the bag. He twisted off the cap and popped a pill into his mouth.

“She’s not normally like this.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to explain Trish to Abel.

“I know what she’s like.” He didn’t elaborate, and my heart sank as I realized he probably knew Trish very well. Everyone did. He didn’t seem the least bit fazed that she was preparing for a gang bang in the next room either.

I took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie, my eyes falling closed as I savored the deliciousness.

“Good, huh?” He grabbed one from the pack and popped the entire thing into his mouth.

“Why are you here?” I didn’t intend for the question to sound rude, but my filter seemed to flicker on and off.

“Same reason you are.”

“I didn’t know this was where I was going, or I probably wouldn’t have come.”

“Well…” His eyes shimmered as the moonlight caught them. “I’m glad you didn’t know.” My heart thumped double time in my chest before he continued. “It can suck baby‐sitting those ass**les alone.”

“I know the feeling.” I rolled my eyes and finished my cookie as Trish called out from the other room and the music grew louder. “Help yourself to the snacks.” He sat the bottle on the counter, and the pills rattled.

He smirked and left the kitchen to see what she wanted. Morbid curiosity wanted me to follow, but I took another cookie and waited, not wanting to be tormented by Trish.

Abel was a good guy, here for his friend, just like I was. I let my imagination drift as I pictured him lying on a surfboard, his hands dipping into water that matched the color of his eyes. He seemed like he had no cares whatsoever. I wondered why he’d ever need to see a shrink. It didn’t make any sense. I picked up the pill bottle and read the label. He was on Vicodin now, and I knew I’d just become his baby‐sitter as well. The giggling and cheers grew louder, and I grabbed a cookie as I walked past the stairs to the living room. Abel was on the love seat, where I’d seen him when I’d first come in. Now Trish was straddling his lap and dancing to “Boom” by Anjulie.

It clicked. In that second it made sense. Abel didn’t seem like that type of guy because he was pretending, just like I was. He was a lie. Or maybe I wanted to see kindness in someone else because it was so rare in my life. Not that I could blame or judge him. I was no different. We were the same and so very, very different.

“Stop being a whore, and come play a game with us,” Trish said.

“Wouldn’t want to give you any competition.” Hilarious choice of words coming from a girl who’d made out with three strangers tonight. They weren’t strangers to her, though. I was the stranger. I was the one on the outside. My mind drifted back to truth or dare with Brock.

“What game?” I asked, hating myself for following the crowd, but what choice did I have? This was Lie, the popular girl. I wasn’t a loser anymore and could prove it.

“Spin the bottle.” Trish glanced over her shoulder and winked as Abel’s hands slid over his hips.

“That’s a kids’ game.”

Chapter Three

Stutter

“Have you ever even kissed a guy, Lie?” Trish was running her hands over Abel’s chest.

“You kn‐know I have,” I replied quietly as Adam stepped closer to me and brushed my hair over my shoulder.

“I’ll kiss you.” He took another step, his hand gliding over his stomach and down over his jeans.

“You’re gross,” I snapped, and Abel laughed, loud and deep.

“Leave her the f**k alone, Adam. She’s not interested in you.” His eyes met mine, and it felt like something was implied by his statement, and it pissed me off. “She has a boyfriend,” he said with a sarcastic smirk.

Thank you, Trish, for bringing up Brock.My insides boiled. I just wanted to escape my past for one damn night. Was that too much to ask?

“I’ll play,” I said, my voice coming out strong and confident. All part of the lie. I felt like an idiot for trying to fit in with these people.

“That’s my girl!” Trish slid off Abel’s lap, and he ran his hand along his strong jaw before sliding off the couch and sitting across from me. Adam was at my side, and Trish was on the other. The other guy was relaxing on the couch, his hand still in his pants as he stroked himself. I wanted to vomit.

I grabbed the empty vodka bottle from the floor and laid it on its side. I tried not to look at Abel as I spun it. It rotated endlessly, and I felt like an idiot for spinning it so hard. When it stopped I glanced up at green‐blue eyes, and Abel smiled as I looked over at Trish, and my heart sank a little.

“Get over here, you little slut!” She pushed to her knees, nearly falling over as she scooted toward me. I swallowed hard as I met her halfway and pressed my lips against hers. Her gloss tasted like cherries and cigarettes. I tried to look unaffected as she slid the tip of her tongue over my bottom lip to elicit cheers from the guys.

“I knew you had it in you.” Trish swiped her thumb below her lip to fix her makeup as she winked and sat back next to Abel.

Trish spun next, and the bottle landed on Adam. He smirked as his hands slid into her hair. Their kiss was loud and sloppy, and I blushed as I glanced at Abel. The air in the room was changing, charged with sexual tension.

Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable as they clawed at each other’s clothing. Abel cleared his throat, and they broke apart.

“My turn,” I said, and grabbed the bottle. I spun and tried my best to keep my gaze off the stormy ocean eyes across from me. As the neck slowed and stopped in front of Abel, my heart thudded against my chest like it was trying to break free. I rose to my knees, but Abel didn’t move, and I was losing my nerve. “You could at least meet me halfway.” I didn’t mean to sound bitchy, but if he expected me to throw myself on him like Trish did with Adam, he was going to be disappointed. He just watched me. I was humiliated.

“Ugh. You’re such a child,” Trish groaned.

As I watched her leg slide over Abel’s lap and her nails slide through his messy beach hair, I realized I’d never be her. I wasn’t that good of a pretender. Her lips pressed hard against Abel’s, and I felt my stomach turn. Why did everyone like her so much? What was so good about Trish Wentworth that I didn’t have?

I got up from the circle and made my way into the kitchen. I vaguely heard Adam moan about not getting his chance with me, and I rolled my eyes as I stood in front of the kitchen island. This was supposed to be different, and I was being the same old Delilah. I grabbed the pill bottle and dumped a few in my hand before popping them into my mouth and dry‐swallowing them. A pill lodged in my throat, and I dug around in the bag until my hands landed on a bottle of Gatorade. I chugged it down, freeing the pill from its spot.

I was a doormat on a bad day and a baby‐sitter on the few good ones. Trish didn’t view me as an equal, and I never saw her as being mine either. We used each other like everyone else on the planet, and I just took a while to see it. I grabbed the box of cookies and made my way to the front porch, where I sunk down on the old wooden steps and stared up at the moon. It wasn’t quite full, but it was enormous.