Lust

Chapter 3

“Adam, I told you. Not yet.” Beth reached out a hand toward him, but he pulled away, rolling over on his side. It was still strange for her to see him there, in the bed she’d slept in since she was a child. It was still a child’s room, really-ruffled bedspread, white wooden furniture with light blue trim, so much pink that it was embarrassing. If she’d had her way, the room would be sophisticated and sparse, with only a dark mahogany desk, some Ansel Adams prints on the wall, and a crowded bookshelf in the corner. But these days her parents had neither the money nor the patience for interior decorating, so her seventeen-year-old self was forever trapped in the pink pleated land of her eight-year-old self’s dreams. There was even a stuffed animal, the only thing in the room she didn’t hate-though at the moment, poor Snuffy the Turtle was crushed beneath Adam’s half-naked body. One of these things is not like the other, she thought crazily, the Sesame Street lyric wandering through her mind as she sought frantically for something to say that would make Adam understand. Was this really her life? “I’m just not ready.”

“I know, and I’m not trying to rush you,” he said with his back to her, a petulant tone creeping into his voice. “I’m not-it’s just that…”

Beth sat up and pulled on her pale pink bra, struggling to fasten the clasp behind her. It was past five and her mother would be home soon. Now was not the time for this conversation-couldn’t he see that?

“Look, Adam, you know it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s not that I don’t want to…” God, how she wanted to!

“What, then?” He rolled back to face her, clasping her hands and pulling her close. “What’s stopping us? I know you wanted to wait… but… what are we waiting for?”

If only she knew the answer. If only she could put into words the heart-stopping terror she felt when she let her fantasies get away from her and imagined throwing herself at him, losing herself to the moment, and-but her imagination took her only so far. That’s when the terror set in. And however handsome he looked lying there, one arm stretched out over his head and a lock of hair falling over his deep, dark eyes, however much she may have wanted him-all of him-she just couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not like this.

It hadn’t always been like this, the pressure, the silent give-and-take, worrying about what she wanted and what he wanted and what happened next. No, in the beginning, it had been simple. She had hated him.

Totally hated him, and everything he stood for-which as far as she was concerned, was sports, sex, and beer. She’d hated the way the whole school thought he walked on water, just because he could swim quickly across a pool every fall, could drop a ball into a hoop every winter, just because he was tall, and chiseled, and had a smile that warmed you like the sun. She’d hated his stupid jock clothes, his stupid jock jokes-most of all, his stupid jock friends, and the girls who hung all over them. The guys were all so arrogant, acting like they governed the school, like Beth and her friends were expected to bow and curtsy every time they swept down the hall-and the girls were even worse, simpering and giggling, desperately trying to keep their jock’s attention, or at least to win favor with Harper and her gang, the female counterpart to all this athletic royalty.

When she’d been stuck with Adam as a lab partner last year in bio, all her friends had been jealous-but Beth had just sighed in exhaustion, already figuring that she’d have to do all the work. And she’d been right-put a scalpel in his hands and a pickled frog on a slab in front of him, and Adam was as incompetent and helpless as she would be if plopped down in the middle of a basketball court, facing down the WNBA all-star team. She’d been right about that-but not much else.

He wasn’t arrogant, he wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t an asshole or a dumb jock. By October he was just… Adam. Sweet, funny, adorable-and, for whatever reason, he would stop at nothing until she went out with him. And, for whatever reason-well, basically for the reason that it seemed he’d flirted with or dated half the school, and she didn’t particularly want to be his next randomly selected conquest-she refused. And refused again. How many times had she said no?

Too many-but it hadn’t stopped him. He’d started slipping notes in her locker, leaving flowers for her at her seat in lab-he wouldn’t give up. And then came the day he’d waited for her at her locker after school, greeting her with a giddy smile and a goofy wave. Before she knew it, he was down on one knee.

“Marry me?” he’d asked, pulling a giant plastic ring out of his pocket. It was a bright blue flower, about the size of her palm. It was ludicrous-and irresistible.

“Get up!” she’d urged him through her giggles, blushing furiously as a crowd began to gather.

“Not until you give me a chance,” he had sworn, seemingly oblivious to the curiosity-seekers. Or maybe he was just used to being the center of attention.

“I’m not marrying you, idiot,” she’d laughed, tugging at his arm. “Come on, get up!”

But he had stayed in position. “Okay then, we’ll start slow. One date-one chance. Then I’ll never bother you again.”

How could she say no?

He’d been her first kiss, her first boyfriend, her first love, her first-everything. He’d been so patient, so tender, so gentle, and everything had been wonderful. Perfect. Until now-when she wanted him more than ever, and it only made things worse. And suddenly everything that had been easy between them, all the effortless conversation, the casual kisses, the laughter-it was all weighed down by the silence of what they never said, what they couldn’t talk about. Everything on the surface was still so right-but beneath that, Beth feared, there was something brittle, something fragile. Something wrong.

She leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead and once on the lips, then hopped out of bed to gather up the clothes they’d strewn haphazardly across her bedroom.

“Up ‘n’ Adam,” she chirped, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking. She tossed a balled-up T-shirt toward him. “You know my mother will be home any minute, and if she finds us up here…”

Silently, Adam got out of bed and pulled on his clothes. The quiet minutes dragged on for an eternity, until Beth was afraid he would leave without saying another word. But before he did, he came up and put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Beth buried her head in his chest, reveling in the soft, familiar scent of his cologne and trying her best to fight back the tears.

“You know I love you,” he whispered. He released her, then tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You know I love you,” he said again, his lips only a breath away. “And you know I’ll wait.”

Beth nodded. She knew he loved her, and she knew he would wait-but for how long?

Kane surveyed the tacky surroundings in disgust. Magazine clippings from the fifties papered the walls, fake plastic records dangled from the ceiling, and a giant neon jukebox blasted out oldies while bored waitresses plodded back and forth between the crowded booths and the crowded kitchen, snapping their gum and pretending they didn’t desperately wish they were somewhere, anywhere, else.

“Remind me again why we keep coming back here?” he asked.

Harper hit an imaginary Jeopardy! buzzer.

“What is ‘the only diner in town’?” she reminded him. She took another spoonful of her ice-cream sundae and moaned with pleasure. “Besides, who could deny the appeal of a restaurant with a motto like that?” She tapped a perfectly manicured finger on top of the fluorescent menu: LIFE IS SHORT-EAT DESSERT FIRST.

“Good point,” Kane admitted, scooping off a good chunk of her ice cream, complete with cherry-he’d finished his own sundae within minutes of its arrival.

“Hands off!” Harper laughed, smacking his spoon away. “Sure you don’t want some, Miranda?” she asked, pushing the giant bowl across the table toward her friend. Miranda squirmed back, waving it away.

“Some of us actually want to have room for dinner,” she pointed out.

“Oh, come on, Miranda, live a little,” Kane encouraged her, grabbing a spoon and digging in once again. “Be a rebel-I know you’ve got some bad girl blood in there somewhere.”

Miranda hesitantly took a small bite of the ice cream, flushing as his deep chocolate eyes paused on her and a slow, satisfied smile lit up his face.

“Atta girl. I knew you had it in you.”

Is he flirting with me? she wondered.

If only.

Miranda had known Kane for almost as long as she’d known Harper (and, basically, everyone else in this town)-a few minutes short of forever. She doubted that he remembered the time they’d spent a third grade recess playing dominoes together, or the knight in shining armor moment when he’d tossed her a towel after an embarrassing “wardrobe malfunction” at Shayna Hernandez’s eighth grade pool party. In fact, she doubted that he would even remember her name-or at least admit to doing so-if she wasn’t usually joined at the hip with Harper, one of the only people that Kane didn’t find to be a yawn a minute. But whatever the reason that put him across the table from her so often, she was grateful. And sometimes wondered whether this wasn’t perhaps the year that he’d get sick of the bimbos and finally notice her. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?

Besides, thanks to Harper’s intervention and some-okay, a lot of-careful dieting, she now had much better hair, clothes, and body than she’d had in eighth grade. Maybe the next time her bikini top popped off, Kane wouldn’t be so quick with the towel…

“Earth to Miranda,” his voice punctured her reverie. “Dreaming about my hot bod again? You girls just can’t help yourselves, can you?”

Miranda snorted, hoping her face wasn’t too red. “As if.”

Did she sound believably casual-but not so disgusted that he would think it inconceivable that she’d been thinking about his tightly toned forearms?

Miranda knew there was a middle ground somewhere between obsessed stalker and mortal enemy, but she’d never had much luck finding it. (This likely explained why all her carefully constructed flirty banter, designed to make junior high crush Rob Schwartz realize she was interested, but not too interested, had instead left the JV quarterback with the unshakeable conviction that she hated him.)

She’d gotten a little better since then-but not much.

Beth and Adam were late.

They came into the diner arm in arm, whispering to each other. Harper waved to get their attention, then quickly looked away. It was too sickening to watch.

“Where’ve you guys been?” Kane asked with a leer when they arrived at the table. “As if I have to ask.”

Beth tucked her hair behind her ears, blushing, and Adam began to stammer out something about lost keys and car trouble and-

“Oh, just sit down,” Harper interrupted. “We waited for you to order dinner, and we’re starving, so let’s just get to it.”

“Spoken with your usual grace and accuracy,” Kane said. “I second the motion.”

Beth and Adam squeezed into the booth next to Miranda, smushing her up against the window, since the bench was meant for only two people. But Harper chose not to say anything about it-the way things were going, Beth would probably just smile politely and offer to spend the rest of the night perched on Adam’s lap, to save room. She was just so accommodating. And, Harper had to admit, beautiful. She’d changed out of her first-day-of-school outfit (standard Beth: classic-cut jeans, black T-shirt, gold hoop earrings, bland and forgettable) into a backless turquoise sundress that matched her eyes and perfectly set off her sun-drenched hair. And Harper wasn’t the only one to appreciate it. As Beth leaned forward to order her food, Adam reached over and began slowly rubbing her bare back; Harper couldn’t pull her eyes away from his hand, lightly playing its way up and down Beth’s skin. She could almost feel its warm pressure on her own.

Harper shook her head violently to knock the fantasy away, and then waved them all to be quiet. There was a reason she’d invited them out tonight-aside from the understandable need for large amounts of grease and sugar after the long first day of school. And, since she was losing her appetite by the minute watching the lovebirds fawn, it was probably time to get started.

“Okay, now that you’re all here”-she tried not to glare at Beth-“here’s the deal. We’ve got two weeks until the annual lame back-to-school formal, right?”

Kane groaned. “Don’t remind me. What a joke.”

Harper ignored him and continued. “And two weeks until the annual top secret after party, organized by a select group of seniors.”

“Kerry Stanton and those girls did it last year, right?” Beth asked. “Wonder who they tapped for this year.”

Harper gave her a withering stare. Was the girl an idiot?

“Kerry e-mailed me this afternoon,” Harper explained with a self-satisfied grin. “Looks like I’m up.”

“You?” Miranda asked, grinning. “Awesome.”

“Actually-us.”

Adam held up his hands in protest. “Hold up, Harper-look, we’re all impressed that you’re now officially the coolest of the cool and all, but if you think you’re roping me into some kind of dance committee…”

“God, it’s not a dance, Adam. It’s a party. A secret, illicit, just-for-seniors party?” She smiled winningly. “And I know you all want to help out, get on the inside track, be adored by the masses-”

“Not to mention, get first dibs on the best beer and the comfiest mattresses,” Kane pointed out. “Sign me up.”

Harper smacked him and was about to launch back into her spiel when the diner door opened, and in walked Kaia. On anyone else, her Little Black Dress would have looked ridiculously out of place amidst the neon and trucker chic, but Kaia seemed oblivious of context, striding forward with purpose and grace as if, to her, the waitresses appeared clad in Hugo Boss, not polyester. She looked completely at ease, though Harper could tell, just from the little things-the single finger she’d used to push open the door as if afraid of the germs, the delicate steps she took as if expecting at any moment to splash her kitten heel into a puddle of mustard-that she was not.

“Are you kidding me?” Harper muttered to herself. “Maybe she won’t see-”

“Kaia, over here!” Beth chirped, waving the new girl over. “I invited her to come along,” she explained to the table. “I thought it would be nice-you know, she doesn’t know anyone, and-what?” she asked, irritated, as the boys laughed, while Miranda and Harper just rolled their eyes. “What is it?”

“It was a nice thing to do,” Adam assured her, laying a hand on hers. “I’m sure she appreciated it.”

“I know I do,” Kane added, quickly shutting up as Kaia approached.

“Am I too late?” Kaia asked as she arrived at the table, eyeing the empty ice-cream dishes.

“No, we haven’t even ordered yet,” Kane reassured her, shifting over to make room for her (now Harper too was smushed against the window-and if there was going to be a male body pressed up against her like this, Kane’s was really not the one she would have chosen). “Don’t worry, Harper just likes to eat dessert first.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Kaia asked, and while her tone was light and pleasant, Harper could feel the girls icy eyes boring through her.

“So, about this party…” Miranda began, trying to defuse the tension.

Harper kicked her furiously under the table, but it was too late.

“Party?” Kaia asked. “Sounds like I’m just in time.”

“We’re all going to help Harper organize this party thing in a couple of weeks,” Adam explained.

What was with the “we”? Harper wondered. He hadn’t sounded so enthused a moment ago. Before she walked in.

“Not all of us,” Beth added, her eyes darting away. “Sorry, Harper, I wish I could help, but I’m way too busy already”

“What are you talking about?” Adam asked. He whirled to face her, his mouth crinkling into a frown.

“You know, I have a bunch of after-school meetings, and this new job, and my brothers to take care of, and-”

“Can’t you just make the time? We never get to do anything like this together,” he complained, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He took her hand in his, but she quickly pulled it away.

“No, I can’t just make time-it’s not that easy. And anyway-” Beth suddenly realized that the whole table was eagerly watching their back-and-forth. “Can we just talk about this later?” she requested in a more measured tone.

“Fine. Whatever,” Adam said sulkily. “I guess Kaia can take your spot.”

“I’m sure Kaia’s way too busy for that sort of thing,” Harper quickly interrupted. “Places to go, people to do, you know how it is.”

“Harper!” Adam turned toward her, shocked.

“What? She’s a big-city girl-why would she want to waste her time on small-town shit like this?”

“Uh, she is sitting right here, you know,” Kaia pointed out. “Though apparently you’d prefer it if I weren’t. Excuse me.” And, perfectly composed, she stood up and glided toward the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Adam hissed. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Whatever, she said it herself this morning,” Harper told him. She raised her voice so that more of the restaurant-specifically, those who were putting on a big show of leaving in a petty snit-could hear her. “All she cares about are drugs and sex.”

“Which should give the two of you a lot in common,” Adam retorted, and pushed himself away from the table, following Kaia out of the restaurant.

Harper sucked in her breath sharply, and the rest of them stared at her in stunned silence. It was a pretty rare sight to see perpetually good-natured Adam turn ugly-and an even rarer one to see Harper as the target of his attack. Harper squirmed under their gazes and chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. Picking a fight with Adam wasn’t part of tonight’s plans-but then again, having Kaia tag along with the whole party planning thing wasn’t either. There had been a brief, blessed moment, just after Beth had refused to play, when Harper imagined what it might be like, working side by side with Adam-long hours, private strategy sessions, laughter, flirting, and then one day, maybe, she would make her move. Or-even better-he would make his. One moment. And then Kaia had ruined everything.

Adam soon led Kaia back into the restaurant, his hand held lightly on her back as he guided her down the aisle and back to the table. As Kaia whispered something in his ear and Adam burst into quiet laughter, Harper was hit with a bizarre flash of déjà vu. Hadn’t this scene just happened, with a different starlet playing the role of female ingenue? She wondered if Beth, too, had picked up on the instant replay-then again, Miss Manners really had no one to blame but herself, since she was the one who’d invited the wolf to come have dinner with the lambs.

Not that Harper had any intention of playing the lamb in this little romantic grudge match.

Adam and Kaia sat down again, and Harper-after a stern look from Adam-grudgingly apologized. They ate in relative peace, but when the burgers, fries, and Miranda’s salad were gone, no one was in the mood for a second round of desserts.

As they rose to leave, Adam pulled Harper aside, and they walked slowly, out of earshot of the rest of the group.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For what I said earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harper told him, not quite meeting his eyes.

“No, I was totally out of line-it’s just, I’m just a little edgy these days.” They had reached the door, and Adam held it open and swept her through with exaggerated chivalry. She paused in the doorway and looked up at him, his face only inches away. If she stood on her toes, she’d be close enough to… well, it was close. She could smell his cologne, a cool, fresh scent that smelled like rain. Like Adam.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” Harper swallowed her pain and her anger and forced a smile, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I swear-all is forgiven.”

She glared at Kaia’s back, a few steps ahead.

Forgiven-but not forgotten.

Kaia took one last disgusted look at the Nifty Fifties Diner before following the “gang” into the parking lot.This town was pathetic. It was like being trapped in the Vegas stage version of a Dawson’s Creek episode-disgustingly earnest teenagers with boring middle-America issues, prancing around on a set lifted from a Travel Channel rundown of America’s Tackiest Tourist Traps. At least there was some good scenery to look at along the way. Exhibit A: Adam Morgan.

“You need a ride, Kaia?” he asked, taking Beth’s hand as they headed toward his car, a maroon Chevrolet with a dented fender and a discolored side panel that seemed lifted from a different car.

Kaia, who had parked her father’s Mustang around the corner, figured that she could find a way to retrieve it in the morning. Her father was, big shock, out of town-but there were plenty of other cars and people to use. If the maid didn’t have time to run her into town in the Beamer, then the gardener could do it in the Audi. Not a problem.

“Actually, I was just about to ask,” Kaia answered, smiling at Adam. “I got a ride here from my dad, but he’s out for the night-are you sure it’s not too much trouble? I live pretty far out.”

Beth laughed and jabbed her boyfriend in the arm good-naturedly. “Are you kidding? Adam loves to drive, don’t you? I think he secretly wishes I lived out in the middle of nowhere so that he’d have more chances to take his prized possession for a real ride.”

Kaia grinned naughtily at the thought of taking Adam for “a real ride,” but she kept her mouth shut-it was just too easy. Besides, she’d already committed herself to playing the wounded good girl role. Her little chat with Adam earlier had convinced her that he was just burning for a chance to play knight in shining armor to some fragile princess. And Kaia was happy to accommodate him-which meant the knee-jerk sex kitten comments would just have to go unspoken.

“Great,” she said, trying her best not to wrinkle her nose at the sight of Adam’s Chevy It looked even more wretched close up, like a junk heap molded into the shape of a car, held together with duct tape. Prized possession? It didn’t speak very well for his taste-of course, from what she’d seen so far, neither did Beth. But she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

She looked over her shoulder at Kane, who was climbing into a vintage silver Camaro. And he was just as hot as Adam, though he lacked the adorable Southern accent. But the guy was obviously a total player-and thus not nearly as much fun to play with. No, she decided, climbing into the backseat and slamming the door shut behind her, Adam it is. At least for now.

Beth and Adam chattered together in the front while Kaia sat in silence, watching the dark streets fly by.

“You want to come back to my place?” Adam asked his girlfriend. “My mom’s probably out for the night…”

There was a long pause, and Beth looked over her shoulder and glanced at Kaia. “I’ve got a lot of work to do,” she said eventually. “And, you know, curfew.”

“I just thought that-”

“Why don’t you drop me off first,” Beth cut him off. “I’m on the way.”

Trouble in paradise? Kaia wondered. Interesting.

Adam just grunted and turned off onto a side street. He pulled up in front of a squat ranch house, sandwiched between a row of identically impersonal boxes. A tricycle lay on its side in the middle of the small front lawn, which looked as if it hadn’t seen a lawn mower in years. The cramped patch of overgrown weeds was the perfect companion to the house itself, with its peeling paint job and rusted aluminum siding. Home sweet home.

Adam turned off the car and unfastened his seat belt, but Beth stopped him with a quick kiss.

“You don’t have to walk me in,” she whispered. “I’ll just see you tomorrow.” She kissed him again, this time long and hard, and then got out of the car and raced up the front walkway, a narrow path of loose gravel and chipped cement. She paused in the doorway, fumbling in her purse for the key, then, finally, pulled open the door and slipped into the house, the slim beam of light cut off as she closed the door behind her.

Adam was still for a moment, watching her figure disappear into the darkness. Then he twisted around in his seat and grinned at Kaia.

“Why don’t you come sit up here?” he suggested, patting the seat next to him.

Perfect. Kaia hopped out of the car and switched into the front seat. As she fastened her seat belt, she lightly brushed his hand, which rested on the gearshift-he tensed, almost imperceptibly, and she knew he’d felt the same electric charge of excitement that she had at the touch.

She ignored it, however, and began playing with the radio stations, searching in vain for something that was neither country-and-western nor fire-and-brimstone.

“Not much to listen to out here, is there?” Kaia complained, as Adam started the car and pulled back out onto the road. She flicked the stereo off in disgust. “Not much to do, either.”

“No,” he admitted. “But it’s a good town. Good people, you know?”

Could this guy be any more of an all-American cliché? She didn’t know they made them like this in real life.

“Anyway,” he continued awkwardly, “I’m sorry again about before, in the diner-Harper’s just, well…”

“An acquired taste?” Kaia suggested, faking a smile.

“I guess you could say that,” Adam admitted. “See, the thing you’ve got to understand about Harper is…” His voice faded off, and he squinted his eyes in concentration, trying to find the right words.

“Her bark is worse than her bite?” Kaia offered.

Adam laughed ruefully and shook his head. “No, I’d watch out for her bite, too.”

Good to know, Kaia thought. “Then what?” she persisted. “I mean, you seem like such a nice, genuine guy, and I guess I’m just surprised that you’re… that not all of your friends are… I’m just a little surprised.” Kaia guessed there was no particularly polite way to say, So, your friend is an überbitch. Hopefully she’d made her point without doing major damage to her mission.

“Look, I know Harper can be kind of-”

“Harsh?”

“Kind of a bitch, basically,” Adam acknowledged. Kaia suppressed her laughter-good to know he wasn’t totally blind. “It’s not something I love about her,” Adam continued with a sigh. “But the thing about Harper is, well, things come pretty easy for her. She gets bored-and you can see why.”

“Bored? In this town? No,” Kaia drawled sarcastically. How could you be bored when the bowling alley was open 24/7?

“No, it’s not just that,” Adam clarified. “It’s not just that it’s a small town. It’s Harper-she just-doesn’t belong here, somehow. She’s better than this place.” He shook his head ruefully. “And the problem is, she knows it.”

“It sounds like you-” But Kaia cut herself off almost as soon as she began. No reason to put ideas in his head. If he was too dense to figure it out for himself, she certainly wasn’t going to help him along.

“I what?” he asked, confused.

“Nothing.” Kaia paused, watching the dark shadows of parked cars, deserted buildings, flat, arid land speed by. The emptiness was endless. “Have a lot of respect for her, that’s all,” she finished feebly.

“Well, I’ve known her a long time,” he explained, pulling onto the empty highway. “She was the first friend I made when I moved here. I trust her-and whatever else she’s done, she’s never betrayed that. She’s the same with Miranda. When Harper decides you’re worthy of her time, she’s actually the best friend you could have. Loyal as a pit bull.”

“Which would explain both the barking and the biting,” Kaia pointed out.

He laughed. “Exactly.”

They were both quiet for a moment, and Kaia realized that this was the most she’d ever heard Adam speak. He hadn’t said much during dinner, and even when Beth was in the car, he’d mostly been listening to her prattle on about her day. The strong, silent type, Kaia decided. Likes listening better than talking-so maybe she should give him something to listen to.

“Well, pit bull or not, you don’t have to worry about me,” she assured him. “I can handle myself. You have to be tough when you…” She let her voice trail off and looked down at her hands. Would he take the bait?

“When you what?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Score.

“It’s just-you know, it’s hard, bouncing from school to school, always being the new kid, knowing that neither of your parents want you around…”

Amazing how truth can sometimes be more effective than fiction.

Kaia let her voice tremble, just a bit. “And people assume things about you, you know, treat you in a certain way, like you’re this person, this person who has nothing to do with who you really are…”

Adam took one hand off the wheel and rested it on her shoulder; Kaia suppressed a grin.

“Hey, we’re not all like that,” he assured her.

Kaia laughed, shakily.

“Listen to me, ‘poor little rich girl.’ And I don’t even know you.” She wiped an eye, hoping he wouldn’t notice the lack of a tear.

“Can we just… just forget I said anything?” she asked.

Adam nodded-but he kept a firm hand on her shoulder.

They drove in silence down the empty highway for several miles, until Kaia pointed to the shadowy silhouette of a mailbox, the only sign of civilization along the dark stretch of road.

“Turn up here, I think,” she said, and the car swung left, up a long gravel pathway, arriving at the foot of a large house of glass and steel.

“Whoa,” Adam murmured softly. “Unbelievable.”

The house-more of an estate, really-gleamed in the moonlight. Its sleek modernity would have been utterly out of place amidst the age-encrusted remnants in the Grace town center, but out here on the fringe, the elegant beast seemed a perfect fit with the harsh aesthetics of the dessert landscape. Stark steel beams, giant windows, a jigsaw puzzle of smooth surfaces-it was like no house he’d ever seen.

“This is where you live?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Like I said,’poor little rich girl,’” Kaia quipped.

Adam turned off the car and hopped out to open Kaia’s door for her.

A total gentleman.

“Listen, Kaia,” he said as they walked up the long, narrow path toward her door. “Obviously we don’t know each other that well yet, but I just want you to know-if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know, I’m around.”

Brushing away another fake tear, Kaia threw her arms around Adam and hugged him tightly to her.

What a body.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his ear, making sure to graze his cheek with her moist lips. “You’ll never know how much that means to me.”

She let herself into the house, pausing in the doorway to watch him walk back to the car. Even his silhouette had sex appeal.

This is almost too easy to be worth my time, she thought.

Almost.

By the time Adam got home, it was too late to call Beth-and besides, what would he say? “In case I didn’t make it clear to you before, I’d really like to sleep with you-and even though I am the perfect PC boyfriend and will stand by you no matter what and don’t-I swear to you, don’t-just want you for sex, I think it’s natural for me to want that, too, especially since I’m probably the only eighteen-year-old homecoming king virgin this side of the Mississippi”?

Yeah, that would go over really well.

He sounded like one of those Neanderthals in the teen after-school specials they played on local access TV and occasionally showed as a precautionary measure in health class: “But gee, honey, I have these urges…”

No, best just to wait it out.

It hadn’t always been like this, of course. Back in the beginning, she couldn’t get enough of him-they couldn’t get enough of each other. He would come over to her house after school and they would try to do homework together, and after a few minutes she would tire of aimlessly flipping through the pages of her history textbook, and he would give up on furiously writing and erasing and rewriting wrong answers to the same trig problem over and over again, and that would be it. He would look up, she would look up, their eyes would meet, and they would be on each other, kissing, stroking, fumbling with buttons and bra straps, desperate to drink each other in, to find every one of their bodies’ hidden secrets, to touch, to meld. Sometimes all it took was an accidental touch-sitting across a table from each other, his hand would brush against hers, and it was like a stroke of lightning, a bolt of charge between them, and he would have to have her. And it wasn’t just him. There were times… that day last spring in the empty hallway when he’d given her a quick peck on the cheek before going off to practice. He’d turned to leave, and she grabbed the back of his shirt collar, pulled him back to her, back into his arms. Then Beth-practical Beth, shy Beth, tentative Beth-had pushed him up against the wall and dug her body into him, sucking on his lips and kneading her fingers into his muscles. Not caring who saw. In the beginning it had been like that.

Not in the very beginning, of course. At first they’d done nothing but talk. Which, to be honest, was the exact opposite of what he was used to. They talked and talked-on their first date, they talked through dinner, through dessert, late into the night, until Beth realized her curfew had long since run out and, like Cinderella, she’d fled off into the night. He’d never really talked to a girl before (except Harper, and that didn’t count), but then he’d never met a girl like Beth, who really listened. Who really seemed to want to know him-not the all-star jock, not the homecoming king, but him. On their second date they’d talked even more. About everything-families, school, religion, what they loved, what they wanted. They’d talked, and talked, and that was all. As he walked her to her door, he’d hesitantly taken her hand, and she’d let him. They’d stood in the doorway, her hand warm in his, and he’d slowly lifted his other hand to her face, touched her chin, but before he could lean in, close his eyes, bring his lips to hers, she’d pulled back. Jerked her hand away and slipped inside the house, without a word.

It was on the third date-the date he’d figured would never happen after she’d run away from him on date number two-that he knew. They’d stood in the park, looking up at the stars-Mars and Venus would be spectacularly bright that night, she had told him. And with any other girl, that would just be a tactic, a ruse to get him somewhere dark and alone. But Beth just wanted to show him the stars. They’d stood close together, his arm brushing hers, their necks craned toward the sky.

“It’s so beautiful,” she’d said in a hushed voice.

“Yes,” he’d whispered. But he was looking at her. He put a hand on her waist, another on the back of her head, on her soft, blond hair, and drew her face toward his. And their lips met, their bodies came together. She’d been so hesitant, so scared and tense, almost pulling away. And then she took a deep breath-he could feel her chest rise and fall in his arms-and her arms wrapped around him, her fingers running through his hair and caressing his neck. When they finally broke away from each other, she didn’t move away, but stayed close to him, her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders. At first he’d thought she was crying-but she was laughing.

“I had no idea,” she’d told him, when he asked why. “All this time, and I just-I had no idea.”

But she wouldn’t explain, just kissed him again.

That was the beginning of everything. They had still talked, all the time, for hours, but they talked in quiet voices, their lips inches apart, their bodies wound together. It seemed like it would last forever-but here they were, or rather, here he was, alone.

It was all different now, now that there was this thing in their way that they wouldn’t, or couldn’t, talk about. And that was the problem. It wasn’t about what he wanted or what she didn’t want-it was about what neither of them could say. She was tense again, scared, hesitant, but this time there was no endless conversation, no soul baring. After all they’d had together, she wasn’t turning to him, and he was afraid to push-afraid that this time, if she ran away, she might not come back.

He stripped down to his boxers, fell into bed, and, as his tired mind began to wander, pictured himself back in bed with Beth, curled up tight against her warm body.

Except-

Except that Beth didn’t have long black hair that cascaded down her back like a shimmering river, or eyes of deep green that you could lose yourself in for days. Glistening, full red lips and a mischievous smile. And she didn’t cling to him, didn’t lean on him-didn’t need him.

But someone did.