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“Nice job. I guess I’m—” I tried counting the balls left on the table.

“I get to go again, so we’ll see what you are in a second.” He squinted his eyes, and his lips twitched.

He was laughing at me.

Well, then. I’d have to play well this time and show him a thing or two. I prayed a miracle would rain down from Heaven and help me out.

He leaned over and sunk another ball into a side pocket with ease. “You’re stripes.”

“Yes. I got that.” There were so many striped balls still on the table it was glaringly obvious what I was. They’d remain there, inevitably. Poor little guys.

Mick stood back, allowing me plenty of room to make a fool of myself. He rested both hands around the neck of the cue stick and watched me. He was hot.

Dammit.

I leaned over the table, setting up my attempt to make a perfect connection with the white ball, knowing fully well what I looked like bent over in that pencil skirt. So what if I was playing it up for this guy? Innocent fun.

I focused the way Cam taught me, lining up the shot in my mind.

“Nine ball, corner pocket,” I said to Mick, forcing myself to concentrate on that damned nine ball.
Don’t break concentration
; Cam’s instructions played in my head.

I couldn’t help myself. I glanced back at Mick, only to find his green eyes locked on mine. I sucked in a breath. His gaze travelled to my mouth, and I turned back to the table, closing my eyes to gather my wits.

Dammit. I needed to focus. This was just a friendly game of pool. Nothing more.

I’m not dating material.

I’m not on the market.

I forced myself to concentrate on the shot again. I could do this. I looked at my fingers, making sure they were exactly positioned the way Dad and Cam taught me. I pulled the stick back, then pushed forward, mentally crossing my fingers for a connection.

Nothing.

I scratched, like always, and missed the white ball entirely.

I laughed, then stood back and looked at Mick. He still gazed intently at me. The way he followed my every move was better than beating him. I watched a muscle work in his jaw. My heart raced, and my hands began sweating.

I recognized that look—the way guys
used
to watch me. Before they thought I was a freak. The way Rod used to look at me.

Ugh.
Rod. I needed to stop letting my mind wander to him and Leslie. I had to move on. God knew they sure had.

“So,” Mick began, breaking the heavy moment between us, as he bent to line up his next shot, giving me a moment to compose myself. “You’re a junior like my sister?”

“No, senior. You?”

With raised eyebrows, as if my question was ludicrous, he paused to glance up at me.

“No, no, I mean, I know you aren’t a junior or senior in High School. I meant how old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

Huh. Must be the scruffy face that made me think he was a bit older than that. I watched him take another shot, wiping the floor with me—as I figured he would. Somehow, I didn’t even care. He was so easy to be around.

And not too hard on the eyes.

“You guys live in San Juan?” he asked, breaking my thoughts and bringing my focus back to the conversation.

“No, we live in Dove Canyon. It’s near Rancho Santa Margarita. You’re here in Huntington?”

“Nope. I moved down south with Ro. I’m in Mission Viejo.”

I smiled. He smiled back, and I couldn’t help the train of positive thoughts flying through my brain. He lived by me. He wasn’t thirty minutes away, or even farther. He wasn’t crazily older than me.

Maybe things were looking up after all. Maybe I’d get to see him again.

Maybe I had a new friend and a new—
what? Boyfriend? Get real, Holland. Don’t be a moron. You stopped being girlfriend material a long time ago.

“Holl!”

Cam picked me up and spun me around, stopping the negative direction my thoughts travelled.

“Wait. Are you playing
pool
? You hate pool!”

Mick laughed and walked over to us. “You hate pool?”

I bet the word to describe my expression would be
sheepish
, but there was no point trying to cover it up. My brother spilled the beans. I went for honesty again.

“I do. I absolutely hate playing pool.”

“Bro! We have a
Valley
bar table in our living room! I’ve been trying to teach her for years. It’s like she’s the most uncoordinated person on Earth.”

“Thanks, Cam.”

“No problem, sis. I think I’m going to head out with Rosie, if that’s—?”

“Rosie?” I questioned.

“Yeah, you know,
Rosemarie
, the girl who invited us here?” Cam clarified, missing the reason for my raised eyebrows. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Turns out she’s not a lesbian
or
a freak. She’s pretty awesome.”

Well, color me surprised.

Rosemarie walked up and slinked her fingers through Cam’s, wearing a ridiculously huge smile.

Huh. Maybe this was more than just a party hook-up.

“Hey, Holl, Mick. You guys care if we split? I’m starving and wanted to take Cam down to Main Street.”

“No, no. You guys go,” Mick said with a flick of his hand, as if leaving the two of us alone was common practice. “We’re cool hanging out for a bit, right, Holland?”

“Um, actually…”
Stranger danger!
I panicked, trying to think of a way out of alone time with Mick, when I remembered that Cam was D.D. tonight.
Perfect!
I held up my second drink, which was already almost empty, hoping Cam would remember his promise to drive me home.

“Shit! I totally forgot! Okay, no biggie.” He turned to Rosemarie and apologized. “I’m sorry; I forgot I’m the driver tonight. Can we get a rain check?”

“I can drive Holland home. I haven’t had anything to drink, and we’re headed in the same direction. Plus, you were supposed to give me a ride home anyway, Ro.”

“Oh. You’re right.” Rosemarie’s eyes widened, as if suddenly realizing that both she and Cam totally forgot everything—or every
one
—else around them. “I’m sorry, Mick. What was I thinking?”

“It’s fine,” Mick said to Rosemarie before turning his attention to me. His green eyes sparkled, and my stupid heart skipped a beat. “Holland? Is that cool with you? Can we take your car?”

All three of them turned to me expectantly, but I gazed solely at my brother. Was he really going to let me drive home with a total stranger after watching me like a hawk and monitoring my every move for the past four months? I waited. No one said anything.

Okay.

“Um. I guess that’s cool. You guys go have fun.”

“Awesome! Thanks, sis! I owe you one!”

Cam bent down and kissed me on the cheek. Rosemarie followed suit, kissing my other cheek as if we’d been friends for ten years, not ten minutes. They were gone in a matter of seconds, and I was left alone with Mick. Well, somewhat alone, aside from the couple making out on the loveseat in the corner of the room.

“You’re okay with this?”

I turned my attention back to Mick and nodded. Whatever. What could it hurt? He seemed harmless enough.

He smiled, exposing his slightly crooked canines again. “Okay. So, since you apparently hate pool…”

“I’m sorry. I should have said something. But you didn’t want to dance, so I just went along with it.”

“Don’t apologize. But I’m not going to force you to play anymore, that’s for sure. And it explains why you’re not very good.” He winked with his insult, but I lacked a rebuttal.

“Ready to bail?” He walked around the pool table and stopped just a foot or so away from me. “We can head down south and stop somewhere on the way for food, or…we can keep playing this game you’re so good at.”

Ha. Ha.
I glanced down at my watch. Just before midnight. Our dining choices were limited at best.

“Food sounds good.”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a quick bite to eat,” I clarified for him.

He inclined his head. I could imagine him saying touché in his mind.

We replaced our pool cues on the rack and headed out toward the main area of the warehouse. Mick rested his hand on my lower back, and I was barely able to focus on walking with him touching me. I’d kill my brother for leaving me.

Surprisingly, the warehouse was even more packed than it had been when we arrived. The air sat thickly with sweat and that unique fog machine smell. Colorful lights bounced off the walls, perfectly moving to each beat of the music. People danced, glow sticks in their hands or glowing brightly around their necks. One girl sucked on a bedazzled pacifier.

I raised my eyebrow as we passed. I was glad to leave—these late-night partiers weren’t really my style. I was out of place in my tight-fitting clothes and black wedges.

I leaned toward Mick to comment, but he beat me to the punch.

“Seems we forgot our rave clothes.”

I giggled, then allowed him to take my hand. As he led me to the door, I stared at our hands intertwined, wondering why the connection felt so good. Was I really so lonely?

Get a grip, Holland! Not on the market, remember?

Jenna waved at us as we exited. I swear I caught her giving Mick a thumbs up as I turned away. I smiled to myself; maybe they really did like me and weren’t just marveling at the freak show.

Once outside, I led Mick to my car, our hands still linked between us. A warning signal went off in my head somewhere, but I ignored it. As we reached my little red car, I was tempted to explain why I loved Penny so much, but then realized it didn’t matter if Mick saw her for the character she was. He’d only be riding in her this one time.

“What year is this?” he asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“She was born in 1992.”

Mick laughed. “Was she now?”

“Yes. Her name is Penny. Yes, she’s old. Yes, she knows it and so do I, and no, I don’t care.”

Mick put his hands up in surrender. “Hey now. I wasn’t asking you because I was ragging on
Penny
. My mom had a thing for Volkswagens. She would have loved this car.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry. I get a little defensive. My brother is constantly teasing me about her.”

“That’s what brothers are supposed to do.”

I almost asked him if his mom was dead, since he’d said she
would have
loved this car, but then I remembered it didn’t matter. We were getting a quick bite to eat, then he was driving me home, and that was that.

I couldn’t date Mick—I couldn’t date anyone. After what happened with Rod and Leslie, I’d never trust guys again, but worse than that…I couldn’t trust myself. Whatever was happening to me, I couldn’t involve someone else until I knew what it was.

So, regardless of how hot Mick was, or how safe I felt around him, I wouldn’t see him again after this.

I’m not on the market.

I’m not dating material.

Holland

After demolishing a Moons Over My Hammy and a chocolate shake at Denny’s—the only place open at this hour—I realized I was completely at ease around Mick. More so than I’d been around anyone but Cam for a while. Although, the way Mick made me feel in other ways was anything but what one feels for their brother.

The awareness of these facts made my chest tight.

He wouldn’t stop staring at me. The attention wasn’t creepy, but definitely intense. No one had bothered to barely even give me a second glance since the fire, and now I sat across from someone who couldn’t take his eyes off me.

Had I been on the market, I would have allowed myself to be flattered.

We were the only people at Denny’s, and the waitress had left us alone for a while. Mick sipped on his coffee, and I finished my water. We’d have to leave soon, since my curfew was two-thirty on the weekends, but I was enjoying being out.

“So…” Mick hesitated, holding my gaze.

Here it comes.
It didn’t take long in most cases, and since Mick’s sister went to my school, he’d probably already heard the rumors. I took a deep breath, and braced myself for the inevitable.

“How do you deal with all those morons at your school?”

Huh. That hadn’t been what I expected.

Did you do it? Why did you do it? How did you do it?
Those were the questions I was used to. Mick caught me a bit off guard.

“Um,” I stammered, trying to answer his question when it hadn’t been the question I’d been prepared to answer. “I guess I don’t really. I pretty much keep to myself. I bit your sister’s head off when she first tried to talk to me.”

“Yeah, she kinda mentioned that. But you’ll learn about Ro—she’s nothing if not persistent.”

He laughed and stretched back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head. His black thermal shirt pulled up a bit, and I caught myself admiring the inch of skin above his belt buckle. I quickly brought my eyes back to his and caught a smirk pulling up at his lips. Fantastic. That was twice he’d caught me checking him out now.

“She told me the stories about you, as I’m sure you guessed, and obviously I remember the news and everything.” He shook his head. “But seriously, I’m a bit perplexed that you have to deal with it even though no one actually died, and they couldn’t prove you did anything.”

I shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s high school for you.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss it. But, hey, at least you’re almost out. What are you doing after you graduate?”

“I—well—I don’t really have a plan.”

Anymore.
I didn’t have a plan
anymore.
“I imagine Rod and Leslie are still headed off to ASU together in the fall, but I’ll no longer be completing
that
trifecta of doom.”

I’d never considered much else because that had been our plan for as long as I could remember. Graduate high school, move to Tempe, go to ASU. The three of us had it all figured out. Or so I’d thought.

“Wow. So, Rod and Leslie, those are the people you supposedly killed?”

Shoot.
How much of that had I voiced out loud? Way to go, Holland. I cleared my throat. Might as well talk to him. He probably already knew everything anyway, so what could it hurt?

“Yeah. Leslie was my best friend. Rod was my boyfriend. We’d all been best friends since we were in diapers, basically, but sometime in middle school…well, Rod and I became more.”

I took a breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach that always accompanied this story. I wished I could change it, but the ending was always the same.

“So, just barely into our senior year—what should have been the most important and memorable year of our lives thus far—after the three of us have been best friends our entire lives, and Rod and I had been
together
for almost five years, something changed.”

“He cheated on you. With her, right?”

I hated that word.
Cheated.
He didn’t cheat on me. This wasn’t a pop quiz during third period Biology. He betrayed me. It could have been anyone else. He could have hooked up with one of the other cheerleaders on the squad. Or even Sana, Cam’s ex-girlfriend. But no. He chose the one person in the world—aside from him—who I trusted more than anyone.

He didn’t cheat on me.

He
destroyed
me.

“Yeah, he cheated. But it’s not like they had a quick hook-up one night at a party after a few too many Jell-O shots. They fell in love behind my back. Or, more likely right in front of my face. Two days before homecoming, he broke up with me. No reason, no explanation, just done. The friendship, the relationship, everything. Done. He walked away from me like we hadn’t been together in one shape or form for our entire lives.”

I inhaled a deep breath, realizing I’d forgotten to breathe while telling my story.

“Hey, Holland, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. Really. It’s cool.”

“No. You’re going to hear about it—already have, right?—so I might as well tell you the truth. I called Leslie to cry to her, to lean on my best friend for support, and I got nothing. She’d gone as far as taking her house phone off the hook, and turning off her cell phone. She knew. She had firsthand knowledge that he’d broken up with me—probably even helped him plan it—and then ignored me when I called her for help.” I laughed…a humorless sound. “You know what’s better? I didn’t know it at the time, that she was avoiding me, so I worried. I stopped thinking about my broken heart and started thinking something had happened to my best friend.” I shook my head and laughed another bitter laugh. “Can you imagine? Here she is, going behind my back with my boyfriend and then ignoring me when I call her for help, and
I’m
worried about
her
. C’est le bazar.”

Mick tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows drawn together.

“Oh, sorry. I meant
what a mess
.”

“Parles-tu français?”

“Oui. J’aime la France.”

Mick’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly. “You’ve been to France?”

“No,” I said, looking away from him. “But I will go. Someday.”

“I’d love to go as well. My family is originally from Rouen.”

“Seriously? You’re from France?”

“No, my
family
is from France. My parents met in Paris. I was born here.”

“Wow. What a romantic place to meet.”

“You’d love it there.”

He held my gaze for a few seconds longer than I liked, unspoken promises in his green eyes, so I continued my story to change the subject. I didn’t want him making promises.

I didn’t want to believe them.

“So, anyway, I’d gone from my entire world revolving around these two people—my past and my future consumed by them…to having no one.”

My shoulders fell, from both relief and sadness. I’d shared the story out loud—in its entirety—only once before, and that was forced during an appointment with a court-ordered psychiatrist after my incident.

Mick opened his mouth to speak, so I stopped him by raising my hand. If I paused for too long, I’d lose my nerve.

“When Rod’s family’s beach house caught on fire, all eyes were on me.”

Mick’s breath caught, barely loud enough for me to hear, and his arms came down from behind his head, hands falling into his lap. I’d expected him to recoil when I hit this part, so the action, however subtle, didn’t surprise me.

“Regardless of the fact that no one could prove that I’d done it, or that I’d even been anywhere near the beach house, word spread fast.”

“So why did they think you’d killed them?”

“Oh, that’s the best part. That’s actually how I found out Leslie and Rod were together. They’d been away for the weekend, and told their parents they would be at the beach house. They went somewhere in L.A. instead. A little romantic weekend in Hollywood or something stupid. Whatever. It doesn’t matter where they were or what they were doing. The fact of the matter is that someone burned down the beach house, while they were supposedly staying there. So the whole world thinks they were inside, and now they’re gone, and I start getting accused of killing my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend in a jealous rage.”

I paused to take a breath.

Mick’s gaze held mine expectantly.

“Jealous rage,” I whispered again, shaking my head. “And the joke’s on me, right? I didn’t even know he
had
a new girlfriend. Turns out, his new girlfriend was Leslie. My best friend! So, after the news of the fire comes out, and the rumors start to fly, people begin looking at me in a new light. Suspicion. Fear. Anger. Even the teachers saw me differently. I hated it. It didn’t matter that Rod and Leslie were both alive and accounted for—the rumors were too big to squash. Everyone thought I was a killer, or at the very least, an
attempted
killer. And anyone who didn’t think that of me, well, they looked at me with pity. Poor pathetic Holland Briggs.

“I felt completely alone, and—I—I slipped into this really dark place.” I paused as the scars on my wrists seemed to throb their forever reminders. I gauged Mick’s reaction before continuing. “I became really depressed. I started thinking I should die. Like, that would be easier, you know? I mean, why would I want to go on if my entire life was a sham? If my best friends were never really my best friends? Who wants to live in that kind of place? Like, had they ever even loved me?”

My wrist twitched. I stopped playing with my heart ring to rub my thumb over one of the scars.

“Holland, I’m sure they—”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t try to tell me they cared about me. I know they did, once upon a time. I get it. Hell, Leslie apologizes to me
every single day
. But I didn’t know it then. I didn’t think anyone had ever really loved me because if the two people I’d trusted more than my own parents could betray me like that, then had anything ever been real?”

The telltale signs of tears stung behind my eyes, so I paused to take another breath.
No need to cry. No need to cry.
I squared my shoulders.

No. Need. To. Cry.

Mick leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. He reached for me, slowly, hesitantly, and I pulled my hands into my lap.

“So? Are you going to ask me, or what?” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for the question I knew was coming.

“Ask you what?”

I scoffed. “Are you serious? Ask me if I did it, obviously.”

“I hate to break it to you, since clearly you
want
me to ask, but if I thought you were the kind of girl that goes around burning houses to the ground, I wouldn’t have taken you out on this fancy date.” He spread his arms out, indicating the less than fancy digs.

“This isn’t a date.” My palms began sweating. I wiped them with the shredded napkin in my lap.

“Regardless. I know you didn’t do it.”

Something about the conviction in that statement made my shoulders tense up. There were times I still wondered if my own family felt that sure of my innocence. How could this total stranger just waltz into my life and have so much faith in me?

“Excuse me.” I stood, then headed for the bathroom.

After making sure I was alone—though I hadn’t needed to check since we were still the only patrons in Denny’s—I allowed a few tears to fall. How had he gotten me to talk about all of this? How had he made me feel so at ease? No one made me feel at ease but Cam.

The thickening feeling in my chest, that I experienced more and more frequently lately, began growing. The tension and dull ache centered on my lungs. I closed my eyes and took a breath, wondering if this was it. If I would finally see what waited for me, what made me feel more than normal, more than just myself…like more than I resided inside my own body.

I leaned forward, my fingers gripping the sink, and peered into the mirror. I stared into my blue eyes.

I know you’re in there.

I felt it moving around beneath the surface. The façade of my pretty face and long blonde hair covered the presence well. But I knew. Something waited. Lurking. Counting down the days. My skin was oil floating on top of water. Something was coming.

I was changing.

I closed my eyes again and inhaled, bracing myself to leave the restroom, to face him again. He’d called this a date. Twice!

And he
believed
in me. Why? He didn’t even know me.

I needed to get home, and then I’d nicely tell him I couldn’t see him again.

It was as simple as that.