I wanted to kiss her back.

There are plenty of other reasons I'd been avoiding Rose but this one makes the most sense. It seems so obvious and clear that I don't know whether to kick myself for being so stupid or for wanting to kiss her.

There's nothing wrong with Rose.

That's not the reason I'm so repulsed with my self.

There are two very good reasons I'm repulsed with this epiphany of feelings: she's young and should be having normal high school experiences; not dealing with a legal case and a traumatic experience.

And yet, even realizing how wrong it is—how I should want nothing more than for her to make it through this ordeal mentally and physically intact; how I shouldn't have feelings beyond that of a teacher and close friend—I also realize it's the truth.

I have feelings for Rose.

When I hugged her, it was just to say thank you...but there was a part of me that didn't want to let go just yet. I'd always felt comfortable comforting Rose, keeping a safe respectable distance, but after the kiss and after the hug I didn't just want to comfort her.

I wanted something more. I didn't want to let go.

It's crazy.

It can't be happening.

I can't have these feelings.

But I can't make them go away.

A habit I've developed is tapping my hand against the leg where I shot. Sometimes, when I'm lost in thought, I do it so often and for so long that my numb eventually become numb.

This is one of those times.

Luckily, my cell phone ringing drags me away from my thoughts.

"Did Tasha talk to you about the dinner party idea?" Christian asks by way of greeting.

I'm grateful to have something else to think about before I remember that Rose is supposed to be apart of this dinner.

"She thought it'd be a good idea to give the girls a break from all this stress."

"Yeah, it'd be good for them," he agrees and adds, "but do you really think it's a good idea?"

Other than my twisted feelings for Rose, I didn't see any reason this wasn't a good idea. "Kind of, I guess. I mean, I figured we could use one night without drama or talking about criminal cases."

"Yeah i guess," he sighs. He doesn't sound close to genuine.

"Something wrong Chris? You've never really been one to be quiet about your feelings," I can't help but laugh.

"I'm just thinking about the awkward dinner conversation. I mean honestly, what could we all possible have in common and talk about."

I hadn't really thought about that but now that Christian brings it up, he has a point.

"Especially Lissa. I don't even know what to say to her half the time. What do you say to a teenage girl that's pregnant possibly with her rapist's baby?"

This was one problem I could actually fix; an easy question to answer compared to my own issues.

"You don't say anything. I'm not saying to pretend that everything is perfect and normal. Just being there as a friend should be enough, even though you just met. Treat her like you would anybody else. Treat her like you'd treat me," I advised him.

"You want me to buy her a pack of beer and watch sports with her?" he asks, his tone incredulous.

"Okay, maybe you should just treat her the same way you treat Rose. You've been a good friend to her from the moment you met her."

Better than I've been lately, I silently add.

Christian makes a noise that tells me he sees I've made a good point. "True. Okay, fine. We're having a dinner party."

"You both look beautiful."

Rose smiled and smoothed down the front of the simple blue blouse that she's wearing over jeans and a pair of those ballet flat shoes Victoria use to always ask me to buy her for Christmas when she was younger. She tugs at her sweater and blushes a little.

Lissa is standing beside Rose spaced out. She's wearing a sweater dress, jeans, and boots. I don't even think she heard me until Rose nudges her out of her daze. She shakes her head, her platinum hair swaying a bit.

"Thanks," she mumbles before walking out of the house, past me, to the car.

Rose closes the front door of her house behind her, locking it.

As we slowly start walking toward the car following Lissa, she says, "Sorry. She's just a little out of it. After Christian called and told us about this dinner, I had to convince her to come. She wanted to stay home and just sit on the couch like she's been doing most of this week. I can't say I blame her."

She looks worriedly at Liss who has already sat herself in the backseat of the car.

"She has a lot of things to think about," I agree.

"I know. I just wish...I don't know. I wish things were different."

"Me too."

"Thanks for picking us up, by the way. Even if you didn't have to."

"I figured Lissa wouldn't feel like driving. I know you've been driving even with the sprained ankle but-"

"You didn't notice?" she asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Didn't notice..."

She stops walking and stretches her leg out, particularly turning her ankle. I hadn't even noticed when I first looked at her shoes.

"No more cast or braces or bandages," she points out, happier than I've ever seen her. "When your mother called to make sure we were coming to the dinner, she told me it'd be alright if I took off the ankle wrap thingy. It's still a little weak but she says that maybe permanent. I'm happy to have my ankle free though," she smiles.

I smile with her. The last time I'd seen her smile like this was when I'd taken her to the park all those weeks ago. I can't help glancing at Rose again. I'm glad she wanted to come out tonight to have a normal dinner. I'm happy she seems comfortable in her own skin again. She really does look nice and I hope she knows it.

Rose pulls at the intricate braid she's tied her hair into and then catches me looking at her. As dark as it is on her street I can see the blush in her cheeks.

"I wasn't sure what to wear. I didn't know what to wear that would make me feel comfortable but looked nice. The last time I'd dressed up to go to a party-"

She cuts herself off and closes her eyes to take a breath.

"No, I'm not going to think about that tonight." She this more to herself than to me.

Before I realize what I'm doing, I reach out to touch her shoulder. "Tonight is going to be fun. Alright? We'll have a nice normal dinner," I assure her.

She nods, grateful for the reminder.

Now I just have to remind myself to keep a safe respectable distance and then everything will be fine.

We can survive one normal dinner.