Hi folks I totally missed the two year anniversary of this story to post this on July 6th (and also two years since I ended ST on June 27) but I had to rewrite and edit this chapter so much because I had no idea where I was going with it but I LOVE IT. It definitely was one of the most challenging chapters to write which is why it took FOREVER but I figured it was time for it so I can stop writing in circles! It's also insanely long because yeah forget updating more with shorter chapters I ain't got time for that. Get some snacks yo.

Review shout outs to the pals delovlies, ladyanj, Epiccupcake28, Doctor Kay Strange, mnbvcxz-xx and RunawayGirl8125. THANK YOUUU!

-shades

…

The first rule of working for the royal family and having to attend events for your job was to never outshine the Selected.

It wasn't official or anything. But Lissa always tried very hard to dress in the little gray area between that and making sure she was up to the dowager queen's standards. She had no idea what was going on, but Christine had asked her to attend a few days ago to keep an eye on the little princesses and it wasn't like she had much else to do. Besides, most of her friends were people who attended palace functions on the regular, so she was actually looking forward to it. She hadn't spoken to Wesley since the safe rooms during the emergency drill last week, but they were friends too, right?

Then why did she feel so nervous?

Lissa wiped at her eyeliner as leaned closer to the mirror in her bathroom. It only succeeded in smudging it everywhere instead of softening the line. She let out a little growl of frustration and grabbed her makeup remover. It took a few tries, but she finally got her eyeliner to look good-but-not-too-good, which was her whole look tonight. Her dress was really simple while still being formal enough, a soft-blueish gray chiffon with a simple cut that nipped in at the waist and spaghetti straps. Knowing she may have to go Evie and Sophie chasing she was wearing nude heels that weren't too high and stayed on really well. Her makeup was nice but nothing crazy, though she had braided a little fishtail braid on the top of her head to go with her curls (and to show off her new blonde highlights). She had cut her hair in a really short bob when she had first started this job here, but now it was past her shoulders again.

During her first time at the palace she had kept her hair really really long and dyed it almost auburn blonde for her makeover instead of her natural light brown. And then-Lissa would never have worn a dress that was almost gray when she could have worn a bright pink or yellow ball gown.

She never would have a boyfriend who wasn't Wesley either.

She dabbed her perfume on her collarbone and she was touching up her lipstick when someone knocked on her door.

It was Joseph, leaning against the door frame with an iced coffee and a smirk. "Hey, babe."

"Hi yourself," Lissa tucked her hair behind her ears and working up a smile. "Is that for me?"

He handed her the iced coffee. "I know they're making you work way overtime time tonight."

Lissa inhaled sip of her favorite beverage ever. "Hold on, I need a moment." She closed her eyes and cupped her hands around it. "So good!"

"Is it over?" Joseph brushed past Lissa and sat down on her bed, his eyes skimming over her. "You look hot by the way."

"Where the heck did you get iced coffee?" Lissa closed her door and turned to face him. At least he knew how to get on her good side.

"They have tons in the kitchen for the Selected. Apparently, girls who compete for princes love iced coffee and copious amounts of sugar in it."

Lissa rolled her eyes. "Rude but thank you anyway." She stepped back into the bathroom to finish her hair. "I haven't seen you in ages, I never got to thank you for the flowers."

"I've been busy with work. Apparently, the prince actually does need a valet sometimes," Joseph said.

"I didn't even see you in the safe rooms that night," she said quietly, trying to busy herself with her hair. "I was really worried."

He leaned against the door frame behind her, making eye contact in the mirror. "Aw, babe, you didn't have to worry about me!" he rubbed her shoulder. "I wasn't even in the palace. I was still downtown. Where you left me," he added, his voice getting accusatory.

"Sorry," Lissa pretended to look down at her phone but she didn't have a good reason to. She saw the time. "Hey, what are you doing here anyway? I thought you had work."

Joseph shrugged. "I do."

"Why do you sound so happy about that. You never sound happy about work."

"That's because it sucks, Lis."

Lissa's spine stiffened. No one ever used that nickname. No one except Wesley. She turned around to actually look him in the eye, not through the mirror. "Don't call me that."

"Why not? Its cute."

"Yeah, well don't call me that," She snapped.

Joseph held up his hands. "Sheesh, okay! Sorry I didn't know you were so touchy today."

"I just don't want you to call me Lis, is that too much to ask? Why are you here anyway? I don't want to be the reason why you get in trouble."

"What, I can't come see my hot girlfriend?"

Lissa looked away and unplugged her curling iron. She didn't feel like making sure her hair looked so perfect anymore.

"Besides, it will be my own actions that get me into trouble, not you." He chuckled. "Let's just say Prince Wesley is really going to regret ordering me around all the time."

Bad feeling. Somewhere in between his tone and his words, Lissa got a really bad feeling. She brushed it off and began putting all her makeup back into her makeup bag. "What does that mean?"

"It means that he's on a smoke break on the roof, it's his new favorite nicotine fix location. And I happen to have told one of the people on the camera crew coming for the reception tonight and they are going to get pictures of him smoking and all the evidence of when he makes me go to town to buy him cigarettes. They paid me two hundred fifty bucks and Prince Wesley is going to get what he finally deserves."

She didn't look up as she carefully zipped up the bag. She knew if she did, she wouldn't like what she saw.

So, Joseph wasn't the nice cute guy who flirted with her and thought she was beautiful and worshipped the ground she walked on. Hadn't she always known that?

Yeah.

He was also kind of rude and possessive and self-absorbed and lorded himself over her.

But this? This was something else entirely. The Bad Feeling was getting Angry. And she didn't look up because she didn't want him to see that either.

"Did you leak the photos of the parties?" Lissa asked quietly.

"No, but I wish I had," He actually snickered. "Don't get me wrong, I respect the monarchy, but Prince Wesley? I can't stand him. People think he's so great, but he makes a mess out the Selection and is drunk off his ass half the time and is addicted to cigarettes now. He's the literal definition of a douchebag."

She stuffed her makeup bag into its drawer along with her brush and all her other cosmetic stuff. "Why do you have to hate people all the time?"

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing." She pushed past him out of the bathroom, turning off the light and leaving him in the dark.

"What the hell, Lissa?"

That was the moment where she could have felt bad and apologized and gone back to the happy girlfriend and she could have taken his negativity for who knew how long. But that wasn't her anymore.

"I'm really getting sick of it. You have one of the best employers in the country and all you do is complain and hate on him because Wesley won't let you do your job, or he makes you do your job. Like seriously?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" he scoffed. "You know working here sucks."

Lissa ignored him, and now that she had started, she couldn't stop. "You act like you are so perfect, so it's okay, right? You don't eat sugar or drink soda or eat French fries or text people or use your phone. You never even listen to me, Joseph! You hate your job, so you assume I hate mine! You hate my friends, so you assume I hate them too! And flowers aren't going to fix that. All you do is try to guilt me into dating you." She stalked across the room. These feelings had always been there but saying them out loud made her realize it was all true.

He looked at her like a sad puppy, and his voice was quiet in comparison to her yelling. "I guilt you into dating me?"

Lissa didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. She kept her arms tightly crossed over herself.

His eyes got hard, and there were no dimples or charm anywhere. "I know what this is always been about for you," he took a step closer. "When you came to me the first night the Selected were here and we went out? That's when I knew. I've always known. Our relationship has never been about you and me. It's always been about you and Prince Wesley."

"You have absolutely no clue what you are talking about."

"And maybe that's why I hate him so much, did you ever think about that?"

"Then why did you go along with it? With us?" Lissa demanded, throwing her arms out wildly. "Even though it's not true? Because there were things, I actually liked about you, Joseph. But what did you like about me? The fact that I was available?"

Joseph stood right in front of her now. "How long have you been in love with him?"

"I'm not-"

"It's him or me, you get that, right?"

Lissa shoved him backwards out of her face before she knew what she was doing. And it felt good. "You don't get to force that decision on me." Her voice broke a little, but the words came out all in a rush. "You always made me think I wasn't good enough without a boyfriend," she pointed at him, and swallowed back the impending tears lurking behind her eyes. "You know what the worst part was? I fell for it. But I was good enough."

"So that's your answer? Him? I always figured you would try to get your claws on him again." Joseph shook his head and turned away from her. Sad puppy mode was back but it only made her mad.

"I'm not choosing anybody! Don't you understand that?" Lissa cried. "I've started to feel like I'm drowning when I'm around you! You threw me so far from myself I don't even know if I can find myself again, but I'm too much of a coward to break up with you."

"God, I can't believe you," he shook his head in disgust. "You were probably the only Seven he had ever met during his brother's Selection and he thought that was hot."

Slapping him across the face was even better than shoving him.

The silence in the room was deafening as they stared at each other for a long moment. Her hand hurt.

She forced her voice to be calm and steady. "Just so you know, I'm telling Wesley what you were going to do.

Lissa left him alone in her room and slammed the door behind her. She was so mad, her whole body felt like it was shaking as she ran down the fourth-floor hallway.

Let Joseph think what he wanted of her.

Bitch.

She heard her door open up in the hallway behind her, but he didn't say anything. She passed the rooms of the royal family's bodyguards and turned down the hall that had the stairwell that accessed the roof. This wasn't royal family area, this was usually only for security purposes, so it wasn't as beautiful as the rest of the palace. At the top of a short half-flight of stairs were two steel doors that reminded her of the ones in the safe rooms. Lissa ran up them with handfuls of her skirt in her hands and pushed open the doors, catching Wesley frantically trying to get rid of his cigarette evidence with the unexpected intruder.

"Oh," he said when he saw her. "It's you."

There was a flicker of remembrance from a week ago outside the safe rooms in her mind. She let the doors close behind her and dropped the skirt of her dress. She hadn't really thought this far and had no clue what to say. You could see the whole city from up here, spiraling out down below the hills that the palace was perched on. Lights of rush-hour traffic were blinking on and off and it was kind of beautiful.

"Hey, are you crying?" Wesley took a step towards her, stuffing all his contraband into his dress pants pockets. Everything was golden and hazy in the early evening light, and his gray eyes looked blue above the cobalt tie that hung loosely around his neck.

Lissa quickly dashed her hands over her cheeks. She tended to cry anytime she yelled or got mad, which was infuriating. "Uh," she began, her voice thick and giving it all away no matter what she answered. "No."

Wesley grinned one of his cocky grins, and for a moment she could pretend they were sixteen again. The action scrunched up one of his eyes like it always did. "Didn't we agree to be friends? You can tell friends anything."

"I think I broke up with my boyfriend," she blurted out. None of it had really sunk in when it was happening but everything, they had said came rushing back to her. She had only dated Joseph to get away from her feelings for Wesley. Joseph trying to make her choose between them like that was even an option. Wesley only liked her before because she was a Seven. Her hand still stung from hitting him.

"What?" Wesley's eyebrows furrowed.

She looked away from him. "He had this whole plot, and he was so excited about it he came to tell me. Some guy from the camera crews paid him and knows that this is where you smoke and is going to come get pictures of it."

His eyes widened. "Oh SHIT! I gotta dip," he ran past her to the doors. "I owe you big time, dude!" He called back, pushing them open.

Only they didn't budge.

"What the heck?" he shoved them again. Then he kicked them as hard as he could. Nothing.

"Are they locked?" Lissa joined him, and tried to open them herself, but nothing happened.

Wesley looked at her. "These doors don't just lock on their own. Some guard could get stuck out here or something."

Lissa groaned and slumped against the unyielding doors. "I'm so stupid. I told Joseph I was coming to tell you. He probably locked us out."

Wesley looked at the ground. "Well…" he began, his voice shaking. "At least the reporter can't get up here."

"But if someone catches you up here…with me," Lissa said. "That's not going to look good." She reached for her phone, but then realized it was back in her room. "And I don't have my phone to call someone."

He reached into his pack pocket and pulled out his phone. He tried turning it on several times. "Oops. It's dead. As usual." Wesley laughed awkwardly. "Aha, this is great!" he said with a cheerfulness that wasn't genuine. "Well either way, my life is over!" He pushed his hair back with desperation, sending the light brown strands flopping over his face.

"I am soooo sorry," Lissa said. "I underestimated what he would do-"

"No, it's cool!" He was pacing now, and his voice was higher than normal. "Like seriously I can't thank you enough for telling me what he was going to do. I'm going to have him fired and then murdered. I'm a prince. I can do that. And this is probably somehow endangering my life so maybe the guards can murder him. But it's not your fault, honestly."

While Lissa wished she had never set eyes on Joseph Sheppard, she wasn't sure she wanted him dead. The combination of fighting with him and then running up here and telling Wesley and then finding themselves stuck caused her to spill her guts.

"I lied to you," she said. "When you asked, I told you that I was happy and that he treated me right, but I wasn't," she shrugged. "I don't know why we even dated."

Wesley didn't stop pacing. "Yeah, newsflash, but he was a massive dick."

"That's what he always said about you."

Wesley finally stopped pacing long enough to light another cigarette. "You know," he said around it in his mouth as he tried to light it. "Once I figure out how to tell my mom about this without getting my ass whooped, he's fired."

"Why can't you just tell her what happened?"

"Because," Wesley was now flipping his lighter over and over again. "Like I said, she'll whoop my ass. She already hated me drinking, can you imagine what would happen if she found out about the smoking? Like I'm literally dead already. And if anyone else knew, they would hate me. My brothers and Michelle are, like, basically perfect. They have cute little families and they're out here saving the world. Okay, Michelle isn't, but everyone still thinks she's perfect."

"It's not that bad, Wes," Lissa tried to tell him.

He laughed, a nervous laugh, and started pacing again. "It's bad okay? It's bad. And now we're stuck up here and we're probably going to get struck by lightning or some shit which will probably be better than being late to my own announcement reception for choosing the Elite because my valet locked me up here because you broke up with him and we used to be a couple and now it's going to look really really really bad and-"

Lissa grabbed his arm to get him to stop, but he didn't look at her. "Hey! Calm down! You're going to give yourself a heart attack or something if you don't breathe. It's okay. We'll figure it out."

He pulled away; eyes wild behind the mess his hair had become. "And everyone is going to find out that I smoke now and at least I quit once before I got back home, but that was because…" Wesley slowly trailed off and came to a stop. His hands were shaking as he sucked through his cigarette, and she could see damp patches on his dress shirt around the edges of his jacket. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"My friend, my best friend smoked all the time," he said, his voice small. "And I was always with him and it gave me something to do because we were always waiting around for something to happen and then it did and he died. And it was easy to quit then."

Lissa remembered him telling her that he thought he was going crazy at the Victory Ball, and even though that was a month ago, he seemed exactly the same as he had in that moment where she had held him. Her heart broke for him.

"What was his name?" she asked quietly.

"Drake Ferguson," Wesley said quietly, tossing away the remains of his cigarette and sitting down on the roof, his legs stretched towards where it ended. The setting sun in the west was bathing his face in a rosy light, but gray clouds were slowly obscuring the golden light. "I keep replaying his death over and over and over in my head and it never goes away and it never gets better and I try never to remember what he said to me before he died."

She didn't think she should ask him to elaborate, so she sat down next to him.

"I can't remember the exact words," Wesley continued. He smiled a tiny bit, but it wasn't a happy smile. "I didn't even remember that he said anything to me before he died for a long time because I went through one tragic experience and it messed me up so bad."

"Wes, you went through hell. Just because others have suffered worse doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. You can't think like that."

"Like what? Like I'm insane? I swear I'm crazy, Lis."

The rosy gold light from the sunset warmed her skin, like being called Lis did. They had always called each other Wes and Lis before, and even though it had been five years and everything had changed, that hadn't.

"You're not. I promise. But honestly? Drinking and partying with the Selected and smoking isn't going to make things better."

"Shut up," he said, the hint of a smirk on his face to let her know he was joking.

"I'm being serious. You have got to talk to someone about this, someone who knows about stuff."

"I'm talking to you," he pointed out. "I wish I wasn't, but I can't seem to talk to anyone else."

She was almost afraid of the answer. "Why?"

Wesley shrugged his shoulders, tilting his face back to catch the final rays of sun. "I think it might rain," he said casually.

"Why can't you talk to anyone else?"

He closed his eyes and didn't answer for a long time.

"Because I always think of you," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And when I was so scared, I thought I was going to die, I would think of you. When I remember things and I can't make it stop, I think of you. It's this one stupid memory usually, from Trentworth, when we all played sardines. I think that was one of the last times things were good before it all went to hell."

"Yeah," Lissa said, barely above a whisper. Back when they were truly happy, thinking that never could ever change the way they were. She wanted to ask so bad why he had never contacted her after the rebellion had failed and his family had come home from captivity. She knew he had been busy and off fighting, but she thought that they had meant more to each other than that. Apparently not.

When Wesley spoke again, only a few rays of light remained, half obscured by a skyscraper and half by the clouds. There was a little breeze in the air that did feel like rain, like Wesley had said. His voice was as thick as hers had been earlier, and he kept his eyes on his lap.

"It was so awful," he shook his head like he could make it all go away. "Drake made sure I got out of the plane first, even though it was my fault for not noticing the rebel aircraft. There wasn't enough time for him." He stopped and swallowed hard. "It's so much worse, every time I dream about it. I saw a lot of dead bodies and every time I replay it in my head it's awful. I can't even remember what he actually looked like when I found him, but I think it was mostly internal. He was in so much pain…"

He had to stop for a few minutes, to wipe his nose and press his face into the crook of his arm. Lissa didn't know what to do, but she found herself reaching for his hand and squeezing it briefly before pulling away.

"You're safe now. It's okay," she whispered. "It wasn't your fault he died. You didn't kill him."

"I did, though. It was my fault," he said miserably. "He kept telling me it was okay, and he told me to tell the girl I was always talking about when I was drunk off my ass that I loved her and that I had to do something about it. He said he wouldn't get the chance to tell his girl that. He never even got the chance to say who it was or how to contact her because he died, he just died. He started coughing up blood everywhere and then he just died. It was so awful."

Somewhere in his story, he had started crying, though he kept desperately trying to stop. Lissa couldn't hold back her tears either. She had always been a sympathetic crier, and she kept putting herself in his place. If it was Gracie or Nicole dying in front of her…she didn't want to think about it.

"It was you," Wesley said miserably, "I told you, I would always think about you. It was one of the only ways to make it stop."

He was saying all these things about her, about them, but Lissa didn't want to hear them right now. Part of her was so grateful that in her own way she had helped him and that he thought of her. Another part remembered all too well how painful their separation had been after the masterpiece that they had created together five years ago.

And there was this other part of her with a tiny stupid spark of hope. It was something that pulled her forward and kept her going, but it was dangerous and painful and risky. It was accepting a crazy dare, to think that maybe possibly somehow Drake had been right, and that did Wesley love her and that he was going to do something about it.

It was a dare that the world was never going to let her win.

There were a million things she could have asked, demanding an explanation for his behavior towards her. They could have cleared it up then and there. Lissa didn't ask anything, even though the possibility of something kept nagging away at her. She didn't want to hear the answers anyway.

"Hey, you can't blame yourself for what was out of your control," she said gently. "From what you told me; Drake made the conscious decision to get you out first. And you didn't shoot your own plane down."

Wesley pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "I could have…I don't know, seen the plane faster. I could have launched the defensive measures faster. He was always there for me…and then…"

If anyone needed a hug in that moment, it was Wesley Shreave. Hugs, however, were dangerous territory and a place Lissa didn't think she could get back from safely at the moment. She settled for a nice pat on the back and hoped her companionship would be enough for him at the moment. She just couldn't.

"It's going to be okay."

It was starting to rain, or at least try. It was fall in Angeles now, but it had been warm lately, refusing to surrender to cooler temperatures. They had been sitting out in the open, but there wasn't really anywhere that was less open, except by the door. They both got up when it started to get heavier and stood under the little overhang.

"Hey, you want my coat?" Wesley asked when Lissa shivered at the drizzle on her skin. His voice was still rough, and he cleared his throat.

"I don't want to get wet," Lissa explained. "It's okay."

"Nah, I'm a sweaty bitch anyway," he slipped his arms out of the jacket and then draped it over her, holding it open while she stuck her arms through. She wondered who else he had given his jackets to lately.

"You're crazy, you know that?" she said, keeping her tone light. "You always say the dumbest things, no matter what we were talking about."

Wesley shrugged, and finally smiled a tiny bit. "Yeah, I know. I can never stop before the words come out. I'm a massive idiot."

"You're fine," she smiled and nudged him gently.

Wesley banged and knocked on the door for a while and tried to yell through it but to no avail. They tried shouting off the edge of the roof too, and Wesley lit a couple of his cigarettes to drop over the edge before Lissa freaked out thinking he had started a fire. He stashed the rest of the box in his pockets and they managed to make the box into a paper airplane but that didn't work either. Everyone was inside apparently, getting ready for the reception that both of them were probably supposed to be at soon, whatever time it was.

"So, you were really going to announce the Elite tonight?"

Wesley nodded. "Yep. I figured it's about time." He looked out over the horizon. "That is, if we don't starve to death up here before someone finds us." The rain petered off slowly in a gusty breeze that ruffled Wesley's hair.

"Why is it we always end up stuck together somewhere and late to something important?" Lissa jested. "Because this is the second time you know."

Wesley smirked for half a second before he quickly cleared his expression. Lissa's skin prickled in embarrassment. She could guarantee that Wesley was thinking about how last time this had happened she had been on top of him and boobs had been involved. She left the overhang to stand at the edge of the roof, holding on the railing that kept it safe for guards on their rounds. That is, if guards ever came up here, which apparently, they didn't.

"Aw, come on, am I that bad?" Wesley smiled, a little bigger than before. With his hair all ruffled and damp and that smile, he looked like the Wesley from before. He joined her at the railing, a little closer than necessary, and leaned on his elbows. His voice got soft again. "Somehow, we just always end up together. Even when we don't mean for it to happen."

Lissa was dying to ask him now. Something, anything. She just needed to know if any of it mattered. She started to speak but the words stuck in her throat before she forced them through.

"Do you regret it?"

Wesley looked sideways at her. "What?"

"I don't know," Lissa shrugged, hating the way her voice shook, hating the way she had to ask. "Everything." She leaned on the railing too.

He was quiet for a long moment. Heat flooded Lissa's cheeks. She opened her mouth to tell him to forget it.

Wesley turned away from her, his eyes resting on the shimmering city below them. "Just because we didn't work out doesn't mean you weren't the best thing that ever happened to me," he swallowed, and she barely could hear the next part. "Because you were."

Lissa followed his gaze, watching the lights of traffic change from white to red. "Yeah," she whispered, blinking back the wetness in her eyes. "You too."

She thought about asking him to never forget it, to always remember that magical time five years ago, to always remember her like everything had been perfect. She wanted him to think of her and how good it all was, even if it hadn't lasted.

One moment in her head, there they were again dancing together at the masquerade ball when they were both newly sixteen and stupid. Or running out to the beach at night when they were at Trentworth or pushing each other into the fountain and kissing. Saying goodbye at the front doors when she thought he wasn't coming and making promises neither of them kept but being so happy that there weren't any rules to keep them apart anymore. That brief, brief moment they had in Tammins when he was stationed there when both of them believed it was still possible. She remembered all of it.

The rain died down and the light slowly faded to dark and Lissa and Wesley stood next to each other watching Angeles go on below them. Wesley kept looking at his watch and playing with his lighter. Lissa kept stealing glances at Wesley and he was different than the boy she knew before. It was weird though, because his hair was shaggy right now like it had been before. These days he wore it a little shorter and slicked back, less curly. There were barely visible lines around his gray eyes, and she could see the tiny sparks of the city lights in them. His face was leaner, like the rest of him, more muscled somehow. There was the shadow of a beard on his face too. He was a little taller. Or maybe he just carried himself different.

He got up from the railing and lit another cigarette, and offered her one, but Lissa shook her head.

"You're going to kill your lungs," she reminded him, turning around so she leaned against the railing. "If your mom doesn't find out first and do it."

Wesley smiled as he cupped his hands around his lighter. "Drake always used to say that too." The wind blew his hair off his forehead and she noticed a small white scar on his temple. "But I got anxiety."

He looked up and found her watching him. He coughed a little.

"I'm serious. Its so bad for you." He was mostly just a smudge of white shirt in the dusk, but she could still see his face.

"And that's what Elvira always told us. I know." He frowned, and looked down, taking a deep breath. His words all came out in a tumble and his forehead scrunched up. "Do you think we could have made it?" he waved his cigarette pointing in between them rapidly. "If things had been different?" he looked at her and Lissa couldn't look away.

"Yeah," she said. "I think we could have."

He stepped closer, tossing his cigarette over the railing. This time Lissa didn't think about fires or getting someone's attention or anything.

Oh God.

He was going to kiss her. His eyes were doing the thing. He was so close she could smell his douchey axe deodorant or whatever it was over the cigarette smoke. He brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes.

Lissa couldn't move.

Why did this feel like goodbye?

She didn't have a chance to think about any of it, because the door to the roof flew open, and they both jerked apart.

"Stop littering!" a voice shrieked. It was mostly dark, but they could still make out a flurry of pink. "If you guards don't stop throwing down cigarettes, I'm seriously going to tell the king and queen and they listen to me."

"Gracie?" Lissa said.

"Lissa? Is that you? What are you doing up there?"

"We were locked out," Lissa stepped past a hands-shoved-in-pockets Wesley, hoping Gracie wouldn't notice her flaming face. "It's a long story."

"Why didn't you call me? And who's throwing cigarettes? I kept seeing them out the Woman's Room windows, and you burned a patch in the lawn."

"Sorry, that was me," Wesley came up behind them. "We were trying to get someone's attention."

Gracie glanced between them and everyone was quiet.

"Huh," she said. "Well, everyone's looking for you anyway, Wesley. You're lucky I came up here."

Wesley laughed even though nothing was funny. "You're a life-saver, Gracie. Thanks." He slipped past her and disappeared inside.

"What was that about?" Gracie peered curiously at Lissa.

"Nothing. I'll tell you later." Lissa went inside and she and Gracie headed downstairs. Gracie told her that the reception was kind of on hold, but all the cameras were there and the Selected were waiting and that no one had said anything about Lissa being absent. Lissa tried to explain what in the world they were doing on the roof without saying too much.

"I had to break up with Joseph because he was going to get Wesley into trouble-"

"You broke up with Joseph?" Gracie gasped. "Finally."

"Wait what?" Lissa looked at her friend.

"I never liked that guy," Gracie shook her head. "You deserve better. I didn't want to tell you though because it seemed like you really liked him."

They got to the first floor, and the Main Hall was surprisingly empty. Like the opening reception, she figured this one would be held in one of the large first floor drawing rooms with easy access to the dining room.

It wasn't totally empty, though. Wesley was down there, trying to redo his tie in one of the massive mirrors that the Main Hall was decorated with. And Lady Eleanor was helping him.

"Why are you all wet? Everyone's been looking for you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Wesley said, messing up his hair even more in an attempt to fix it.

Eleanor looked up as Gracie and Lissa came down the stairs, their heels announcing their arrival. She looked so perfect in her violet lace gown, and Lissa wished she had had time to go fix her hair. Her makeup was probably a wreck too.

Eleanor looked at Lissa a little longer than necessary and her eyes narrowed just a tiny bit.

"I'll see you in there," she said to Wesley and Lissa was surprised she didn't kiss him on the cheek.

"You look fine, Wesley," Gracie said as she started to follow Eleanor inside. "Just get in here."

"Lissa, wait." Wesley dashed forward and grabbed her arm. Gracie shut the doors behind her, and once again they were alone.

And awkward.

"You've still got my jacket," Wesley explained.

"Oh." Lissa slipped it off and handed it to him. "Thanks."

She looked up at him, unsure if she wanted to pick up where they left or not. Wesley looked down at her, and she could see him swallow hard.

Maybe this was one of those moments she wanted him to remember, even if it didn't mean anything. Maybe this was goodbye.

They didn't say anything. He just leaned down and put his hand on her neck and she stood on her toes to meet him halfway. His lips brushed over hers and she didn't even have time to close her eyes before her brain kicked in, screaming at her to pull away before it went any further. They still stayed like that for half a second before Lissa ducked her head and pressed her lips together.

"Sorry," she whispered. "Sorry." It had been so light she wasn't even sure it happened.

"It's…" he slung the jacket over his shoulder. "It's okay."

He disappeared inside too.

Lissa sagged against the doors. "Oh no," she said to nobody but herself. She had to say it like that because if she didn't her stupid head would never ever get it and she would just have to go on living like this. "I think I'm still in love with Wesley Shreave."