For the next few days, I avoided Derek like the plague. I couldn't bear look him in the face. How could I, after the humiliation I'd faced at the hands of my schoolmates, all on his account? It wasn't like I was embarrassed of him, but more of myself. I felt like a failure! I tried to keep a low profile, but sometimes it just wasn't very effective…

Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room and we're not speaking,

And I'm dying to know is it killing you like it's killing me?

I don't know what to say since the twist of fate when it all broke down,

And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now…

"CASEY."

Someone was shaking me out of my Taylor Swift-induced coma, forcing me back into reality. I ripped my headphones out of my ears, from which the music was still blasting, and opened my eyes. Standing at the edge of my bed, there, was Derek.

"Casey, please, just speak to me. It's been almost two weeks." Until now, my eyes had been focused on the stuffed unicorn sitting on the corner of my bookshelf across the room, but now I met Derek's pleading eyes with my cold ones.

"I have nothing to say to you." With that, I turned onto my side so that my back was facing him. He groaned with frustration.

"Please, Casey, I swear I had nothing to do with this!" This statement caused me to whip around, making him jump a little.

"Nothing to do with this? Derek, I know you claim all these feelings for me, but when it all comes down to it you're the same as you've always been… a teenage boy, just looking for bragging rights. I'm sure the second that picture surfaced you were just thrilled. I bet you get a whole lot more guys slapping you on the back and girls lusting after you than ever before, huh? A secret fling with your stepsister… Kinky, isn't it?" He looked hurt, but I was determined not to let myself care. "Give me a break, Derek. You probably asked one of your 'boys' to take that photo anyway. Prove to everyone that you could get the one girl who was always off-limits for you, huh? Well news flash, Derek," —I spit out his name like dirt— "I'm done with your little games. You can't have me anymore."

When I was finally done with my rant, he stood there silently. The look on his face was that of a sick puppy that had just been kicked in the stomach. For a moment my heart cried for what we once had, but I pushed the feeling away. He had only caused me trouble. We were done.

"Please just leave, Derek. Now."

He looked at me one more time, meeting my eyes and holding my gaze for a few long moments, before turning and walking out the door. I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes. A single tear rolled down my cheek. And then I simply curled up into a ball, closed my eyes, and held myself. This too shall pass.

When I finally arose from my hibernation, I called the one person I thought I could.

"Casey?" he answered, his voice gruff with sleep. It was, after all, about three o'clock in the morning.

I opened my mouth to reply, but all that came out was sobs.

"Casey? Casey, what's wrong?" His voice was worried, and he'd quickly lost all sense of tiredness.

I blubbered something incoherently.

He sighed. "Casey, come on, talk to me." When I didn't— no, couldn't— respond, he said, "Meet me in the park."

I hung up the phone and wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, stood from my bed, and didn't even bother slipping on a sweatshirt over my t-shirt and pajama pants. I grabbed my car keys, tiptoed down the stairs, and was out of the house and in the car in a matter of moments.

When I reached the deserted, dark park, I turned off the car and sat in it for a moment. What had I been thinking, calling Max, of all people? He'd broken my heart; had I forgotten? No, I hadn't. But I also remembered him being a wonderful listener with a good heart, and at this fragile moment in my life I needed him.

I slammed the door on my way out, walking quietly in my flip-flops towards the wide yellow slide, where I sat. I didn't have to wait long before I heard footsteps approaching. I turned slightly to see Max, after all this time, coming towards me. He was still just as handsome as ever. He was tall and slim, but built well, as he played football. He had soft black hair that grew upwards in tufts, and blue eyes that made a girl want to melt. I bit my lip in anticipation as he neared.

When he got close enough to see the look on my face, he rushed to my side, pulling me close into his arms. I cried for a long time, what felt like hours.

When I was finally done, I turned to him, hiccupping slightly. I felt a stray tear falling down my cheek, and Max, hesitantly, wiped it away with his thumb. "Tell me what's wrong, Casey," he murmured, and I forced myself to look away from his intense gaze, shaking my head.

"I can't," I whispered, and as the harsh truth of it all came back to me, I dissolved back into tears.

As he pulled me to his chest, I inhaled his scent: Versace Cologne. This realization only made me cry harder, as memories of things I'd lost came tumbling back to me. Max rubbed my back, and when my cries had quieted once more, he whispered in my ear, "I've really missed you, Case,"

I found some strength in my arms to place them against his chest and push him away from me, standing up. "You shouldn't. I'm horrible," I crossed my arms over my chest, backing away slowly. He stood up and walked towards me slowly.

"Casey, no, you're wonderful. You're smart and beautiful and… and I'm stupid for ever letting you go."

I spun around, so swiftly that he looked a bit startled. "You broke my heart, Max. You broke my heart and shattered me and I... I've never been the same…"

He placed his hand on my arm. "Casey, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, it's just… You scared me." He must have caught the look on my face, because he quickly backtracked and corrected himself. "I mean, you were so smart and strong, and you never let anything stand in your way. And I wasn't like you, Casey. I wasn't strong enough for you. So I did the only thing I was brave enough to do: I let you go."

I looked into his blue eyes, the first feature I'd ever noticed about him, and searched for truth. And in his eyes I saw a look that made me feel… safe. Standing there, in the park, staring at him, I realized that right there in the dim light near the slide was where I needed to be. And my decision to invite Max to be there with me, it was perfect.

"Casey," he continued, "I still—"

He never got to continue those words, because my lips had landed on his, sealing out any more words. I wrapped my hands in his soft black hair, and his hands came to rest on my hips, squeezing gently. I knew this wasn't the best solution to my problem, but it felt so right to come back to my first love.

I backed up till I was leaning against the slide; Max pressed me down so that I was laying on it. His kisses were unlike Derek's fierce, passionate ones; they were soft and gentle and loving, and he would stroke my cheek and caress my back, and every once in a while his lips would leave my lips and trail down my neck to my collarbone, where he planted feather-light kisses until he returned to my mouth.

Part of me craved something extra. I grabbed his hands from my waist and dragged them up to my breasts, which were bare underneath my t-shirt. He touched them hesitantly at first, then squeezed gently. A tiny moan escaped my lips and I arched my back slightly so that our kiss went deeper. "Oh, Max," I murmured softly.

My hands rushed to his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them and pulling them down. I felt him hardening underneath his boxers, and pulled them down as well. With a little encouragement, Max made quick work of my pants and underwear, too.

Max and I had never had sex. My only experience had ever been with Derek. Back when I was with Max, I was different. We didn't sleep together because I was strong, independent. I had virtue and values. Now what did I have? A screwed-up family and a failed incestuous relationship. Brava.

I felt Max positioning himself; when he entered me, he not only filled a hole in my body but one in my heart. Slowly, rhythmically, he began to move. I cried out, but not from pain. Max didn't hurt me. He made love like a whisper; Derek, on the other hand, preferred a method more similar to a storm. He kissed my lips, my cheek, my eyelids, my neck… I felt so taken care of in that moment.

Max was a romantic; always had been. As he thrust, he whispered things in my ear like "I love you, Casey," and "You don't know how long I've dreamed of this." Every time he said something like that I felt something inside of me repaired, and I kissed him with every ounce of my being.

He climaxed with a simple groan, squeezing me tight to his body, and a few seconds later I came, too. I looked around, breathing heavily. Sometime during our lovemaking we'd fallen to the ground, and I had woodchips in places a girl should never have woodchips. I made an effort to wipe away some of them, and then I turned to look at Max, who was gazing at the stars thoughtfully, a sheen of sweat layering his forehead, his breath labored as well. I put my hand over his defined chest, tracing my fingers around his muscles absentmindedly. The consequences of what I'd just done were beginning to register in my brain around then, but I refused to accept them. Right now it was just me, Max, and these woodchips.