S Meyer owns Twilight. I own a big, fat crush on Chris Hemsworth and a plan to make my husband take me to see SWATH for our anniversary in a couple of weeks. The last time I got to pick the movie on "date night" was in 2008. I told him we were going to see a vampire movie. He was expecting something like Blade or Underworld. It was Twilight. Since he no longer trusts me, I'm totally pulling the anniversary card on his ass. No shame.

My (almost back to being a nice person) sister looked over this for me. Trust me, she knows I'm joking. Any mistakes left are mine.

Chapter 21

Everywhere I look

you're all I see

just a fading fucking reminder

of who I used to be

(Something I Can Never Have- Nine Inch Nails)

-o-

"Let's go," Leah demands as she tugs away the comforter I've been buried under since the first day of Christmas break.

"No. It's nine o'clock in the morning. Go AWAY." I turn onto my side, facing the wall.

I hear them file out of my room a few moments later. They mean well, but they have no idea what this is like. He was the ONLY person in the world I ever talked to about my parents. I talked to him about Jake the first night I met him. I gave him my body and handed over my heart. Why didn't I trust him when it counted?

I tried to write him a letter, but the only words I could get out were "I'm sorry." I never allowed myself to think about how different things could have been if I'd been honest. But Edward's words echo in my mind, and I think about it now. More than I want to.

Their boots are heavy on the stairs, and I can hear them whispering. "Whatever you assholes are planning, it won't work," I call out over my shoulder.

"We'll see," Alice warns seconds before icy cold water is dumped on me and my bed.

"What the ever loving fuck are you doing?" I scream at them as I stand. Now there's a damn puddle on my floor too.

"It was for your own good, Bella," Carmen says. "We had to do something to get you out of here. Go. Take a shower and get dressed."

"Or?" I ask sourly.

"The three of us will MAKE you."

Damn them all. "Wait downstairs." I point at the door, and, silently, they leave.

A long, hot shower helps the chill. It's cold and rainy outside, so I start with a black long sleeve body suit and extra baggy jeans that hang low on my hips. Since I have no idea where we're going or what we're doing, I add a flannel for warmth. I hate having cold, wet feet, so I choose wool socks and yellow rubber rain boots I found on a clearance rack at Walmart. Maybe if I embarrass them, they'll leave me here.

As if.

Carmen drives straight to Louise's shop. They waylay me in the parking lot. Carmen wants to give me a new do. She thinks it will help break me out of my "funk."Alice wants something new. Thick, choppy bangs are the new thing. I was in fifth grade the last time I had bangs.

Different might do me some good.

Carmen squeals in delight when I give her permission to do whatever she wants as long as the length allows for ponytails. Alice opts for bangs as Louise drapes a cape over her shoulders. Carmen gives me a cape of my own and I close my eyes after the first snip.

Surprisingly, she doesn't go overboard. My hair is still long. Past my shoulders. She cut thick bangs that land just below my eyebrows and colored eight locks of my hair a deep shade of burgundy that matches my favorite pair of Docs.

It looks…good.

I gasp when Louise spins Alice's chair around. Her hair is gone. Cut into a short, choppy bob. She is also sporting bangs, and her stripes are deep purple. It looks good on her, framing her face perfectly.

"Come on, Leah," Carmen begs. "Let me give you some color. You're the odd woman out."

"Says the girl who dyed her hair Grinch green for Christmas. No thanks," Leah replies without looking up from the open issue of Cosmo she's been reading for the last half hour.

They decide a last minute trip to Port Angeles is necessary so they can finish shopping. I haven't bought a single gift, and Christmas is only three days away.

The mall is packed. Carmen is forced to park in the very back of the lot, and it's a hike just to get to the entrance. Eventually, I start jumping into their conversations because I can't help myself. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad they forced me to come.

We walk for hours and shop until we can't possibly carry any more bags. I'm half miserable from the walking, but equal parts happy to have these girls. Even if they are assholes. The horses on the mall carousel are wearing Santa hats. Unfortunately, they catch Carmen's eye. We stack our bags on one of the bench seats in a carved chariot before choosing horses.

We were eight or nine when this mall opened, and the first time we came here, we alternated riding and waiting in line to ride for three hours straight. Carmen still believed in fairy tales back then, and I have pictures of her with flowing long hair, wearing a pink princess cone hat, riding the same white horse she chooses today. She's so different now, but somehow the same.

Leah's cousin, Emily, has been working at the greeting card store since the fall, so we stop in to say hello. She spends fifteen minutes gushing about some guy she met at Peninsula. His name is Sam, and she just moved in with him this past weekend. The girl is absolutely smitten. Her boyfriend must be something. We finally break away after promising to visit her new place soon.

Mr. Newton threatens to fire me the next day.

He claims there is a company policy regarding the streaks in my hair. Surprisingly, it's Jessica who comes to my rescue. "Come on, Mr. Newton," she smiles. "I have highlights in my hair. They just happen to be blonde."

He stomps back to his office.

"Thanks," I tell her as we walk to the gift wrap counter. She's been a little cold with me since Mike and I started hanging out. I'm surprised she agreed to come back this season and more surprised she took up for me like that.

"He's always been a grouch."

"He gives Mike hell, you know." As if on cue, Mike walks by, eying us curiously as we both study him. "About football." I lower my voice. "Stuff."

"Is he okay?" she asks, doing everything she can to avoid my gaze.

"Not really. He misses his best friend." She doesn't answer. "Sometimes, people get hurt no matter which path they choose. Truth. Or lies. Sometimes, the hurt is just inevitable."

Maybe that's what I should put in the letter I'll never sit down to write. I miss my best friend too. And I would have ended up hurting him either way. The same way he hurt me.

We were just way too much for a couple of teenagers. Too intense. Too in love. Too caught up in the sex. The drugs. School. Baseball. It was all too much. High school is supposed to be about leaving behind a trail of broken hearts, not finding a soul mate. And with parents like mine, how could I have ever believed a teenage romance could end well?

I spend Christmas Eve with Renee and Phil at his house. After dinner, he joins me on the deck out back for a smoke. It's become a bit of a tradition with us. He puffs on a cigar as I toke a Camel. It's our "get to know each other" time. He's not going away any time soon, so I'm making an effort.

Tonight is different. I need his help.

"So, I guess tryouts will start next month?" I'm aiming for aloof, staring at the cherry of my cigarette. Watching the smoke swirl and waiting to see if he will answer. I don't know how much he knows.

"That's the plan." He's staring. I can feel it.

"Do you have a lot of returning players?" God, that was lame.

"All but one."

All that shit happened anyway.

I've played those words back in my mind. Again and again. He meant every word of it. He quit the team. "Edward?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"Did he tell you why?"

"He didn't really have to tell me. He and Ben Cheney were hauled off to the office for fighting the last Monday before break."

"Again?"

"Cheney had it coming," Phil's voice is uncharacteristically hard. There isn't a hint of a smile on his face.

"What did he say?" I want to know. I don't want to know.

Phil decides for me, ignoring the question. "They were both suspended. I was called to the office since both of them are, or I guess I should say were, on the team. Edward quit. Ben gloated. I had to break them up. Again."

"Please fix it," I beg quietly. "If he quits, it was all for nothing. I don't think I could live with that."

Ben won't be satisfied until he has absolutely wrecked us both. Okay. Maybe I was a bitch, but it wasn't like there was a welcoming committee. Was hurting me worth tearing the team apart?

One memory. A clear memory of Ben's angry face as he pounded on the door after looking at the list. Oh god. It started not long after. The friendly chats. The project. I thought he was being nice. The girl. The girl he was working on.

"Two birds with one stone," I murmur. He wanted to hurt Edward just as much as he wanted to hurt me.

"Are you okay?" Phil takes a few steps to get closer.

"Please don't let him quit. He's good. No," I correct myself. "He's a great player. Because he loves it. Please don't let Ben take that away from him too."

"I'll do what I can." He seems so genuine. Looks so concerned. We've already had the I'm-not-trying-to-replace-your-father talk. And that's good because I have one dad. My dad. But I'm beginning to think it might not be such a bad thing to have Phil as a friend.

As cool as he is, I still leave and head back to Forks around ten because having a sleepover at my mom's boyfriend's house sounds weird as all fuck.

Jake and his family arrive early on Christmas. Hannah is crawling now and it freaks me out that she can think and go places. She sits occasionally and stuffs anything she can find into her mouth. I spend the day on my knees following her around and taking pictures of her as she trails slobber everywhere.

Charlie and I both went a little overboard on the kid. He bought a Little People garage for her and a tiny pair of baby sunglasses. I bought her a bunch of clothes and two books. "Where the Wild Things Are" and "The Giving Tree." Every kid should have them. I also bought her a copy of "Forever" by Judy Blume, but I'm going to wait until she turns 14 to give it to her. Until then, it will sit next to my copy on my book shelf.

Rachel stares at me every time I go near Hannah or say a single word to Jake. It's almost like she's analyzing me. "You want to sneak out for a smoke?" I ask her after gifts have been opened and dinner consumed.

She nods, and we slip quietly out the back door and walk across the yard until the trees offer cover. When I light a joint and offer it to her, she takes it without hesitation and pulls hard. We get stoned in silence. She waits until my head is bent forward to light a Camel. "I really wish you would give Jake another shot," she says quietly.

I swallow smoke and choke on it until tears pour out of my eyes. "You can't be serious."

"You guys get along. You like Hannah. God, Bella, you must have spent fifty bucks on her for Christmas. You'd be good for them. You were always good for Jake."

"Not like that," I inform her. "We weren't good for each other at all as a couple. We were friends who got on each others nerves and fucked. We never even had a real relationship."

"She's right," he says as he walks up behind her. "I told you to mind your own business." He has both hands in his pockets and the tone he is using with her is almost…parental. I have to resist the urge to laugh.

She stomps away, huffing and puffing and bitching about how stubborn we are. Thankfully, Jake and I are all the way past any awkwardness over our past. It happened. We regret it. It's over. Buried and forgotten by unspoken agreement.

"Thanks for everything you and Charlie did for Hannah," he says quietly as I offer him what is left of the joint. He shakes his head and refuses the weed, pulling the Camel box out of the front pocket of my flannel instead. "I can't be groggy if she needs me in the middle of the night." He takes a cigarette and bums my lighter.

"You're welcome." Jake never was one for manners. "What classes are you taking this semester?"

He attempts a half grin that looks more like a grimace. "I'm sitting this one out."

"Why?" I ask. "You know what they say about taking breaks in college. You never go back." Lots of people say it. I think everyone's parents might say it at some point or another.

"Diapers, formula, doctor's visits, babysitters…that shit adds up, Bella. I'm barely breaking even." He sounds so damned defeated, I want to get in my truck and hunt Maria down.

"Maybe you should see a lawyer. See about child support. Her dad is a VP at the power plant. Surely they could help."

"Can't afford one."

God, it's like some kind of vicious cycle.

I've never pitied anyone in my life as much as I pity Jake in this moment. I was so, so angry at him. I wished horrible, awful things on him when he cheated on me. But I really do feel bad that life has totally kicked him in the balls lately.

"Do you regret it? Keeping her, I mean."

"No." His answer is immediate and earnest. "My only regret is that I'll never be able to give her all the things she deserves." Something about his devotion to her causes an ache in my chest. When it counts, Jake doesn't run. "I'm sorry, Bella. Really sorry about the way I treated you. If some guy did that to Hannah…Fuck. I would lose my shit. You were my friend and I disrespected you in the worst way possible. I don't know why you even talk to my sorry ass."

"It is okay, Jake." I thought it was dead and buried.

"It's not. Jesus, Bella, it's really not."

"Fine. Yes, it was a shitty thing to do. Yes, it hurt my feelings. But you and I both know our relationship never would have lasted. It's not like we were soul mates." Another pang.

"What happened with that anyway?" He says it so casually. It's a harsh reminder that my world is the only one that stopped spinning. Well, I'm starting to consider the possibility that Edward's may have too, but to everyone else, we're just another teenage breakup. Something that happens every day. Nothing special.

The girls are the only ones who know the whole story. Jasper knows bits and pieces. Mike has more theories than facts.

I don't know why, but I end up spilling my guts to Jacob Black as we hike deeper and deeper into the woods. I light another joint and get distracted a few times. He asks questions and winces when I tell him about the closure sex. "Yeah, not my finest moment," I agree.

I go on and on, and so does the trail. When we reach the end, he pulls a flashlight from his coat pocket, and we turn around to walk back. Jake knows I was a thumb sucker, so I don't spare a single embarrassing detail from him.

"The last time I saw him, Mark was handcuffing him on my porch." For a long time, the only sounds are crunching twigs and the thuds of our boots. Even stoned, I'm all worked up. None of that was easy to say and his silence is making me edgy.

"Give me another cigarette." We stop to light up. He leans his whole back against a tree as he exhales. "Do you even realize what you did to that poor guy?"

"What I did?"

"Cool your jets. Yeah, he fucked up too. It sounds like you guys spent too much time fucking and not nearly enough time talking." There's an unfamiliar burn on my cheeks. Shame. "I can see why you didn't tell him about the keys. Really, it was none of his business. But when that Ben guy admitted to playin you both like that? You should have told him right fucking then."

"We were broken up. It would have seemed like a pity play."

"Damn, girl. By not telling him, you made him look like a total punk. Those dudes were probably laughing at him behind his back the entire time."

Great. Something else I never considered. No wonder he's so angry.

When we're done smoking, we hit the tree line and make our way back to our families. Hannah is sleeping peacefully in the carrier. She is much cuter snoozing than she was drooling on the remote or banging coasters on the floor.

Charlie helps Jake with Billy, and Rachel carries Hannah. When they're all outside, I drop heavily onto the couch. Holidays are exhausting.

Charlie is working the overnight, so I stop him when he comes inside before he makes it to the stairs. "Did you take the cuffs off before his parents got here?" It's the first time I've mentioned that night. Charlie hasn't said a word about it either. But now, after talking to Phil and Jake, I need to know the extent of humiliation involved.

"Yes. I took them off as soon as we found his car keys." I stare at the chipped black polish on my fingernails. Waiting for him to ask. Anything. But he doesn't.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Merry Christmas, kiddo."

I spend New Year's Eve crying on the beach at the res, drunk off my ass, high as a kite, and rambling to Tyler, of all fucking people, about my ex-boyfriend and the incredible sex I was having this time last year. He helps me over to the Suburban shortly after midnight.

When we're all situated, Alice speaks up from the backseat. "Change of plans. Drop us off at Bella's house." My head is spinning and the highway dots are blurring. So instead of arguing, I rest my cheek against the cold window and let Mike drive us to my house.

I feel a little less sick and only slightly buzzed as I lead them up the stairs to my room. I start stripping the minute Alice turns on the light, wanting warm pajamas and my bed.

"Bella, it's a new year," Alice says softly as I pull worn flannel over my head. "Time for a fresh start. You can't undo it. And you can't get better until you let it go."

"What do you think I've been trying to do, Al?" I glare at her as I pull up my pajama bottoms.

"It isn't letting go if you're still holding on with one hand," Leah chimes in.

I can't believe this. It's like they're turning on me. I turn to Carmen, waiting. She doesn't disappoint. "How many times a week do you take down that box, B?"

Three during a good week. Five when it's bad. They're right. And I'm tired of being stuck. At this point, it's a conscious decision. I'm choosing. "I read this article in Cosmo about a girl who burned all of her ex's stuff. Like a cleansing ritual." Alice makes it sound like a medical procedure.

What's done IS done. Those kids are gone. His smell is gone. The paper just smells like ink now. And I can recite every one of those notes. Word for word. But I still read them.

I still hold on. We've been broken up longer than we were together, but I still hold on. I still read those letters. I look for him in crowds when I'm in the Port. I drive by his house on my way back to Forks every time I come home from a visit.

I haven't cooked in seven months. Or eaten a brownie. Or even looked at Hostess cupcakes. I've only managed to maintain my weight by alcohol consumption.

I pull the Pink Floyd t-shirt from its resting place beneath my pillow.

Am I holding on because I still love Edward? Or because I'm afraid I might find someone else I could love more?

It's hard to imagine.

It feels like a betrayal. Burning his things in the trash barrel out back. His thoughts. His words. Us. Turning us to ash. And I don't stay to watch. The anger and disappointment shift and shrink inside me leaving a hollow mark, but my friends are right. This is a new year. A fresh start. A clean break.

-o-

Time is a funny thing. And it passes quickly once I decide to stop measuring it in Edward Cullen sightings.

Things get slow at work after the first of year, but things at school pick up. The yearbook is in its final stages and so is a term paper I've been working on for Berty's class since November. Alice and Mike are both knee deep in the spring production of MacBeth. I run lines with them so often I could probably understudy, if it weren't for the whole scared to talk in front of people thing.

The Friday before Valentine's Day doesn't get to me. I don't let it. Of course there are girls carrying vases of flowers around school all day, but I don't let them bother me. The combination of rain and cold has created lovely black ice patches across the parking lot. Carmen and I slip and slide until we reach the truck. I start the engine, and we chat as we wait for the heater to kick in. There is a horrible skidding noise moments before we're both jerked forward in our seats.

Tyler hit an icy patch and spun right into the back of my truck. Carmen and I exit swiftly to see if he's hurt. He's fine, but his ride is jacked. The front bumper is crushed in against the wheels. My truck doesn't even have a dent. Carmen offers to call a tow truck, and I suggest Quil's shop for repairs. Tyler agrees, nodding slowly.

"This sucks," he mumbles as she walks away.

"You've got insurance, right? I mean, you drive for a living."

"Yeah, I'm insured. It's just…" He sighs. "Out of all the cars in this lot, it just had to be yours."

"Hey," I tease. "You should be glad. There won't be a payout on mine. This thing is a tank." I pat the tailgate lovingly.

"True. At least let me take you out to dinner." He holds up his hands the moment my lips part to answer. "Not a date. I KNOW you don't date. You've told me a hundred times. Just something to make up for this." He waves a hand at his van and then my truck.

Carmen is staring at me. Tyler is looking at his feet. And all around me there are couples, standing close with arms wrapped around each other and girls holding flowers. I've never gotten flowers. From anyone. And I never will unless I try.

"Okay."

Carmen bounces a little, but manages to keep quiet. My heart is racing. Even if it isn't a date, it's a step. "Really?" he asks.

"Not a date. Just dinner. Friends," I confirm.

Dinner turns into occasional movies, and by the time spring break rolls around, we're hanging out. Sort of. No labels. We stay away from the Port at my request and we avoid spring sporting events.

I've seen Edward's name in the sports section of Peninsula Daily News, so I know Phil must have convinced him to play. PAH is having an amazing season. Flawless, so far. They have a new pitcher, a sophomore phenom, named Elliot Walker. Royce is still on the team, but he's only been mentioned in the newspaper as a backup pitcher this season.

I bet it is killing that huge fucking ego of his.

Mike says I'm crazy for not boning Tyler's brains out. I worried at first that he would be upset, but he explained his crush on Tyler is purely physical. He knows Tyler is straight as a board, and if he can't hit it, he claims at least one of us should.

"Not gonna happen," I tell him as I pull jeans over my hips in the dressing room of the vintage shop. Phil gave me a rather large gift certificate for Christmas. I've avoided PA as much as possible, but I really need new clothes. We're expecting a warm summer.

"That's what you said about dating," he calls from the other side of the door.

"We're not dating," I insist. "We hang out."

"Regularly."

"So." I pull an embroidered peasant top over my head.

"Soooooo, that's dating."

"Stop it," I tell him, yanking open the door and stepping out to model the outfit.

"The shirt looks good, but the jeans need to go." He's eyes are locked on my backside. "It is dating."

I twist in the mirror. "What's wrong with the jeans? I think they're cute. And it is not."

"Your ass looks weird in them." I cock my head and scowl at him. "What? I can still appreciate the female body. Get the skirt instead. Are either of you seeing anyone else?"

"You're an asshole." I slam the dressing room door in his face, and he chuckles before leaving me in peace to get dressed. He's thumbing through a rack of jackets when I make my way to the front of the store. I huff as I pass him.

The cashier moons over the retro swim dress I've picked out and starts a lengthy conversation with me about different local bands. There are flyers for shows hanging behind her on a peg board. Peter's band is playing Thursday, but I'm scheduled to work.

I have two loaded bags when I leave the store and a hefty leftover store credit. Phil is very generous. It's something I'm working on accepting. Days like today help.

"So, are the two of you going to hang out together and not date at opening night next week?" he asks, grinning as he unlocks the door of the Suburban for me.

Instead of answering, I give him the bird.

We do show up together for the play. Phil and Renee are waiting for me outside the auditorium before the show.

"That's Phil?" Carmen hisses, studying his black dress pants and muscular arms. "Introduce me, bitch."

I do, and she flirts with him like a shameless hussy with Rainbow Bright hair. I'm honestly a little embarrassed for her.

My mother seems to like Tyler. She asks him about college and lights up when he tells her he's going to Baylor in the fall. She gives me a satisfied look. It's the same look Charlie has been giving me lately and I don't understand it.

Aren't parents supposed to worry when their teenage daughter starts hanging out with the high school quarterback?

Someone forgot to give my parents the memo.

The girls and Jasper go in ahead of us, promising to save seats for us. Tyler's fingers are loosely hooked with mine between us. He and Phil are talking about Waco as Renee hovers near the sign-in sheet she's using to track extra credit.

I'm excited for Alice and Mike and a little bit stoned from the drive with Tyler, content reading through the cast list and admiring the program Jasper designed. Something catches Phil's attention, and he excuses himself from Tyler.

I glance up in time to see him shaking hands with Emmett as Rosalie Hale looks at me curiously. When Em draws back his hand, she slips hers into it like she's done it a thousand times.

"Hey, Bella," he says quietly. "Tyler." They nod at each other, doing the guy thing, and I want to pull my fingers from Tyler's. An inexplicable urge to hide churns inside of me.

"We should go in," Rosalie says, putting her perfectly manicured hand on Emmett's forearm. They leave us standing, much the same way we were when they arrived but without conversation. None of us know what to say.

"No practice today?" I ask Phil, trying not to sound accusatory.

"We only practice three days a week," he replies.

"Tyler, will you wait inside for me?" I may not be in love with him, or even in like with him, but I don't want to hurt his feelings by asking what I need to ask in front of him.

"Sure thing." He disappears, abiding our unspoken rule of not pushing me. He never asks for anything, which is good because I don't have much to give.

I wait for the auditorium doors to close behind him. "Why were Rosalie Hale and Emmett holding hands? I thought she was with Edward."

Phil and Renee both look surprised. "They've been dating since last fall," Phil replies slowly. Like I'm dense. They're both looking at me like I'm dense.

"Emmett has a girlfriend? As in, one girl? A relationship?" Stranger things have happened, I'm sure, but I can't think of any right now. "Is he coming here tonight? Edward, I mean."

Phil squirms a little before shaking his head. "No, he's not coming. He's helping his mother with an event tonight. He and Angela…" he trails off.

"Angela? What does she have to-" The looks of unease are enough to fill in the blanks.

"It's recent," Renee says softly. Like that's supposed to make me feel better.

He was never with Rosalie Hale. But he is with Angela. Angela. Out of all the girls in Port Angeles- hell, out of all the girls in the world- he chooses to fuck one of my friends. If he wanted to hurt me, he couldn't have picked a better way to do it. And Angela. God, what an evil, conniving bitch. There are rules of conduct. Don't obsess over or fuck your friend's boyfriends, or ex-boyfriends. It's common courtesy.

Knowing them both makes it easy to imagine. Easy to see in my head. Picture them.

I wish I'd never asked. And in some ways, I'm glad I did. Maybe this is the shove I've been waiting for. The information overload is gnawing at me so I escape it by finding my friends and Tyler.

When the show is over, we go back to Alice's house to party. She and Mike gave performances worthy of a celebration. The alcohol flows and the bong never hits the table out back.

A year. This time last year I was crying. Tonight, there were no tears. I can't believe it's been a year. It feels more like a thousand. One more and I can get out of this place.

Halfway through a bottle of Cisco, I glance at Tyler. He's sitting next to me on the very same love seat I sat on with Edward Cullen on a different night a long time ago. It would be so easy to let him finish the song he's playing and then take the guitar out of his hands. He would follow me if I pulled him into Alice's bedroom. He's hot and judging from the experience I do have with him, which isn't much, I'm betting he could make me feel good. But when it comes down to it, even stoned and slightly drunk, I am smart enough to know that thinking my ex-boyfriend might be fucking someone else isn't a good reason to hurt a nice guy like Tyler.

I don't want to be careless with someone else's feelings.

At the end of the night, I walk with him to his van. "You were quiet tonight," he says as he places his guitar case in the back.

"I was thinking."

"That doesn't sound good." He turns around slowly, frowning a little.

I never dreamed I would actually be lame enough to give someone the "it's not you, it's me" speech, but I am. The worst part is that it's true, and I feel even worse when he tells me not to feel bad. He jokingly thanks me for giving him enough time to find a prom date. I'll admit to feeling sad as he hugs me goodbye. He's cool, and I hope things won't be weird between us because of this.

Jasper catches a ride home with Mike, and the girls and I clean up so Jeanette doesn't walk in to a huge mess when she comes home in the morning. We put the bag full of beer and liquor bottles in the trunk of Leah's car. She can throw it in the dumpster behind the library when she gets to work tomorrow. We move all the knick knacks and candy dishes back to their normal spots.

They listen to me explain what happened with Tyler. None of them are really surprised, although Carmen admits she is disappointed. She really wanted to know if he is as good in the sack as rumor suggests.

"I hear he's looking for a prom date," I tell her. The fact that I can even joke about it is proof that I did the right thing.

"Bitch please," she teases. "Like any of us would be caught dead at prom."

-o-

A/N- Holy cow. She's finally starting to use her head. A little.

So many new alerts. Welcome.

Thanks for reading!