The mall isn't the number one place I'd choose to be on a Saturday afternoon. But my best friend's girlfriend dragged him here, and I happened to be in the back seat of the car when she did. So, here I am, sitting alone in the food court while Lexie drags Mark to every clothing store known to man.

I drop my chin in my palm and sigh loudly. I could've said no and been stuck at home in an empty house, which didn't sound enticing at the time. But now, it sounds great compared to being stuck in a glorified cafeteria with nothing to do.

I pull out my phone and find my notifications dry. No one's texting, no one's calling, not even my mom who's away on business this weekend. My lock screen stares me in the face - a picture from a party last last Friday. I still had my football jersey on with the black smears under my eyes, and all my friends are gathered around a bonfire we had in Alex's backyard.

After the screen fades to black, I slip my phone back into my pocket and look around. Inevitably, I see people here I know because our town is pretty small. I scan the crowd, seeing friend groups I recognize, until I come across someone else who's alone just like I am.

We're in the same algebra class this trimester. Her name is April Kepner, and she's at the top of our class. She always finishes quizzes first. I know this because she sits behind me, and I always have to hand her my homework to correct. It's embarrassing when she hands it back with pen marks all over it and hers comes with a simple check mark at the top.

She always gives me a polite smile when she hands it to me, though. Once, she helped me work through a problem set because I made the same mistake like, four times in a row. I understood it way better after she explained it, her voice quiet and unassuming.

She's on the phone, sitting two tables away. I can't hear what she's saying, I can only see her mouth moving as she nods. She nudges her sizable, oval-shaped glasses higher on the bridge of her nose and smiles slightly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

I hear her end the conversation, that's it. "Okay," she says. "See you soon."

I think about her a lot. I always catch myself watching her when I shouldn't.

She's on the yearbook staff, which means she takes pictures on the sidelines at every football game. Sometimes, we make eye contact above the lens and she smiles at me.

Suddenly, a voice jars me out of my thoughts.

"Whatcha starin' at, pretty boy?" Mark asks, and he and Lexie slide into the booth on either side of me.

Lexie follows my eyes and sees April, now with her back turned toward us. "His crush," she says. "As usual."

"Shut up," I say. "She is not my crush."

"Okay, sure," Lexie says.

"You still have the hots for Kepner?" Mark asks.

"Keep your damn voice down," I growl. "No, I don't. I was just zoning out."

"Waiting for her to talk to you, more like," Lexie says.

"Dude," Mark scoffs. "You could have any chick in the entire school, and you're hooked on her?"

"I am not hooked on her," I insist. "Leave it alone."

They both snicker and start talking even though I'm directly in the middle of them, and I try to let my eyes wander anywhere else in the food court but on her. That works for a while until I notice movement by the door, and see Matthew Taylor walk in.

April gets up and trots over to him, smiling with her arms outstretched. I can hear her greet him, but wish I couldn't.

"Sucks for you, Avery," Mark says.

"Whatever, that nerd Taylor doesn't have anything on Jackson," Lexie says.

"Would you guys stop?" I say. "I don't care that she has a boyfriend. Good for them."

"If she's as smart as she seems, she'd choose you over him any day," Lexie says.

I roll my eyes, fed up with their barrage of comments. "I'll meet you guys at the car," I say, maneuvering out of the booth.

"Aw, we ruffled his feathers," Mark says.

"Jackson!" Lexie calls after me, but I don't turn around. I just keep walking.

As I'm passing through the automatic doors to head to the parking lot, I pass April and Matthew by the entrance. They're holding hands and standing a considerable distance apart, trading quiet conversation. As I walk past them, I can't help but look their way and when I do, I accidentally lock eyes with her.

Feeling put on the spot, I force a cordial smile. And as she continues talking to her boyfriend, the corners of her lips pull up in a smile that's meant only for me.

Mark and Lexie invited me out to a party tonight, but I decided to stay home by myself instead. The rest of the team got on my ass about it, but I brushed them all off.

Besides being annoyed with my friends in general, I've had a lot on my mind. We're seniors, and college acceptance letters should be coming in the mail soon. I'm good at football and I've been scouted by plenty of schools, but I don't know who's going to actually want me. Some part of me, deep inside, worries that not a single one of them will.

I haven't told anybody that.

I stand in the shower facing the jet, running my hands over my face. The only sound in the steamy bathroom is that of the water, and I feel somewhat calm for the first time all day. I'm glad to be spending time alone instead of around people, though I find myself wishing I had one person who I could go to. To talk to. Who would actually listen and not judge me or tell me I'm being a pussy for worrying about real-life stuff.

I let my mind wander to April Kepner. At first I try and stop myself, but eventually I give in because no one is here to tell me I can't, or to make fun of me. I hate when Mark and Lexie make fun of me for being interested in her because she's different.

I like her. She has a cute smile and she's smart as hell. I'd love if we could just sit down and have a conversation that meant something. Whenever I talk to anyone else, all they care about are my football stats or my eyes. With her, I feel like it'd be different.

I shake my head to clear it, placing my palm on the slick wall. I don't know this girl. All I'm doing is creating some romanticized version of her in my head, and that's weird.

We've been in the same class since kindergarten, running in different circles. And yet somehow I still don't know her?

I've liked her since the first day of freshman year, when she walked in behind me and tripped and fell against my back. I've never seen someone blush redder than she did at that moment, but she rushed away before I could ask if she was okay.

And years later, I still can't get my mind off her. When I close my eyes, I see the slope of her shoulders as she sits in front of me in algebra. And I can't help but wondering what those shoulders look like bare. What her whole body looks like bare.

"Don't do this…" I groan to myself, letting my forehead plunk to join my hand on the wall.

But I'm already too far gone. My mind is there and there's no going back.

She's probably a virgin. I'm a pig for even thinking about it, I realize, but I can't stop now. I could teach her so much about sex and the human body. I could make her feel so good. I could make her feel things she never knew existed.

I start to get hard. I knew it would happen, it's inevitable.

I picture her lying beneath me, or even better, inside this shower with me. I've never had shower sex before, but maybe we wouldn't even have to go that far. Just being in here with her, under the hot water, touching each other's bodies… that would be enough.

Then after, we could take it into my conjoining bedroom. I'd lay her down on the bed while she's still wet, and I can practically see the vulnerable way her eyes would look as she watched me.

I imagine how tight her body would feel as I sunk into it, how amazing she'd feel wrapped around me, hands and legs all over. It's too much when I think about the sounds she'd make, what her voice would do to me as she moaned my name…

I'm fully hard at this point, and it's not going away.

I grit my teeth and wrap my hand around my dick, stroking myself slowly while imagining it's her. I can almost hear her sighs, her whimpers, her whispering what she likes and what she wants more of. I'd give her everything.

I come with a frustrated-sounding grunt, and wash myself off with the water that's still running. I'm a horrible person, I know that. And even more horrible because I can't get her out of my mind even after I come down and my dick isn't rock hard anymore.

I wish I could say this was the first time, but it's definitely not. I've been fixated on her for years, and it's driving me crazy. I've had a crush on her for way too long, and if my friends heard me use that word I'd be their personal punching bag until we graduated.

So, I have to deal with this on my own.

When I get out of the shower, I throw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and get on my bike. It's a crisp evening in late October, but the air feels nice on my skin and it helps to clear my thoughts. I bike through my small town, trying to think of nothing at all.

I pass through the main stretch, the dirt roads, and side streets. I don't have a destination in mind, and the ride is nice. It was definitely a good idea to do this instead of being cooped up in the house, probably giving into the temptation of watching porn in my room until I fell asleep, which is disgusting in itself.

I'm pedaling through a quaint neighborhood with street lights when I see her. I'm coasting, not going all that fast, watching the houses I pass. And in front of a little, square white one, sits April Kepner on the front porch swing.

She has a book on her lap but she's not looking at it. Instead, her palms are flat on the pages and she's staring out at the street, where I happen to be passing by.

We lock eyes and my heart flops in my chest. I wonder if I should put on my brakes to stop and talk to her, but I can't make up my mind.

She raises her hand in a wave and gives me a subtle smile.

"Hi, Jackson," she says, voice carrying through the still night air.

"Hey," I say, and my front tire wobbles when I raise one hand to wave back. I quickly replace it, curse myself, and ride towards home.

Hey? All I could say is freaking hey? I didn't even say her name. I probably looked like the biggest idiot. And I almost fell off my bike, to make things even worse.

I think about our interaction all weekend. Even as I'm heading into school on Monday, I'm still thinking about freaking 'hey.'

I have my head down as I make my way towards the front doors, then I hear, "Jackson, smile!"

I look up just in time to see a camera nearby, poised in April's hands. I'm sure my smile comes out horrible. Because not only did she surprise me, but it's her. Her, of all goddamn people.

"Great shot," she says, looking at it. I'm sure of the opposite. "I'm trying to get candid photos. But everyone looks so mad on a Monday mornings." She giggles. "Thought your smile might brighten things up."

My smile? What about my smile?

My insides are twisting. I can't believe this is happening. She has me in such an inner state of turmoil, but I'm determined not to let it show. I won't look like an idiot again.

"Yeah," I say, laughing awkwardly.

April adjusts her glasses and lowers the camera to waist-level.

"Saw you on Saturday night," she says. "Pretty late for a bike ride."

This is the most conversation we've exchanged, ever. Well, at least the most she's ever said to me. I haven't found the courage to speak yet. Mostly because the sun on her hair is doing crazy things to me and I can't seem to remember my name, let alone how to form a sentence.

"Yeah," I say. My mouth is dry. "It was late."

It was late. Great. Great job.

"Be safe next time you go out at night, okay?" she says. "Wear reflectors or something."

I nod and flash a smile that I know must be weird. But she still stays smiling back.

"Will do," I say, then clear my throat. "You… you be safe with your book-reading. Late at night."

She chuckles, eyes shining. I'm officially shipping myself to somewhere far away from here.

"I'll try to avoid any and all paper cuts," she says.

"Yeah," I say, and smile for real.

"Hey, Apes," I hear, and Matthew comes sauntering up and places an awkward arm around April's shoulders. "Morning."

"Hi," she says, sweetly.

Without bothering to join their exchange, I make myself scarce and walk into the school building. When I get to my locker, a couple of my teammates meet me there and lean against neighboring ones while I throw my bag inside.

"Didn't see you at the party Saturday," Alex Karev says.

"Wasn't there," I answer.

"Why not?" Owen Hunt asks. "It was amazing. There were so many girls."

"Sounds awesome," I say. "But I felt like being at home. I had a lot of college stuff to do."

"College stuff?" Alex scoffs. "Lame as hell."

"Don't you already have that all done?" Owen says. "I thought you were just waiting to see where you got accepted."

"Yeah," I say, vaguely. "Guess I just didn't feel like partying."

"Sounds fake," Alex says, laughing. "Avery, not partying?"

"I know, right," I say, pretending to laugh. "I don't know. I'll catch you guys at the next one. Maybe after the game this Friday."

"Cool," Owen says. "You better not flake."

We head off in our separate ways to get to class, and I exhale loudly. I like going to parties, but being suffocated by girls who will disappear after the night is over sounds like the exact opposite of fun.

I don't know who I am anymore. The Jackson Avery in the past couple years would jump at the chance to be at a party like that. Girls who want me, I can get as much action as I want. But now, it doesn't sound that great. I feel like something is missing in my life, and I'm starting to figure out what it is. A connection.

At the football game on Friday, I play my ass off. I'm a sweaty mess by the time it's over, but riding on a high of doing the best out of anyone on the team. And everyone knows it, too. I can't stop smiling, nodding and thanking people who come up and clap me on the shoulder pads. I'm taking it all in, relishing this moment.

I glance at the sidelines, subconsciously searching for April and her camera, but she's not there. I expected to see her, lingering apart from the crowd, grinning at me. At least, taking pictures. But neither of those things happen. The sidelines are empty of a certain redhead I've come to look for.

Once the post-game hype dies down, everyone comes to the consensus that we're meeting at Alex's house for the after-party. I tell the crew that I'll catch up with them, I just have to go home and change first. I head to the parking lot in search of my car, still high from the win, but hear the sound of muffled sobs in the darkness.

I'm alone, as far as I can tell. There are only a few street lights on, and no one else parked in this back parking lot.

"Hello?" I call out.

I hear a surprised sniffle, then a hiccup. The person is trying to stay quiet so they won't be found, that's obvious.

"Anyone there?" I call again.

I walk slowly, weaving my way through parked cars, until I come across the source. Leaning against the side of a car that isn't hers, is April Kepner with her knees to her chest, crying.

"Hi, Jackson," she blubbers, wiping at her eyes. "I'm fine."

"I…" I stammer. Her face is shiny with tears and her eyes are puffy. It looks like she's been crying for a while. "You sure?"

She answers quickly. "Yes."

I stay standing there awkwardly, shifting my weight. I'm not sure what to say, but I know I can't leave her. I don't even know whose car this is.

"Doesn't really seem like it," I say.

"Well, I'll be fine," she says, breathing unevenly.

"Do you… need someone to talk to?" I ask, walking on thin ice. I don't know what's okay and what's not. Shouldn't Matthew be standing in my place?

"You?" she asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

I look over my shoulder stupidly, like someone else might be there. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden. "Yeah," I say. "If you want."

"You don't care," she says, folding her arms atop her knees and looking away.

"Yeah, I do," I say, rubbing my palms over the material of my football pants. "We could go for a drive, if you want." I shrug. "Always makes me feel better."

She looks at my getup, eyes skimming my body. "You won us the game," she says.

"Yeah."

"You're going to a party," she says. "That's what always happens after the team wins. There's a big party. So, why would you go driving with me when you're supposed to be at a party?"

She wipes her eyes some more. I still don't know what to say. How come they don't offer classes on stuff like this? How To Talk To Girls, 101. Or more like, How To Talk To Your Really Cute Crush Who's Crying For Unknown Reasons, 101.

"I don't care about the party," I say. "I didn't wanna go anyway. So, you're kinda giving me an excuse."

She chuckles once, soft and under her breath. "I don't know," she says.

"If you don't want to, it's cool," I say. "I heard hanging out in parking lots on Friday nights is like, the new hot trend."

"Stop making fun of me," she says, setting her chin on her upper arm.

"I'm not," I say. "I just don't want you to be here alone. Where's Matthew? Can I get him for you?"

He's the last person I want to retrieve, but if he can make her feel better, I'll do it.

"He won't wanna talk to me," she grumbles, lips barely moving. Her shoulders bounce with a humorless laugh. "Why do you think I'm crying?"

"I don't know…" I say, cluelessly.

"We broke up," she says.

"Oh," I say, finding it hard to be disappointed. I try to shove the feeling of hopefulness down, but it's hard to quell. Basically impossible. "Sorry."

"Yeah," she says, then sighs. "Well, I did it."

"Why?" I ask.

She looks up and we lock eyes before she pulls herself to her feet. When she's standing, camera around her neck, she brushes off her jeans and exhales loudly.

"Can we drive?" she asks.

I oblige and lead the way to my car, suddenly hyper-aware of how messy it is. I throw the trash from the passenger's seat to the back haphazardly, trying to make it all disappear before she gets in. If she notices, she doesn't call attention to it.

She doesn't say anything while she buckles herself in, but she looks comfortable. I switch the car on, and without warning, Taylor Swift's new single 'Gorgeous' blares on the radio that was on full blast for the drive here.

"Sorry about that," I say, rushing to turn it down.

"Good song," she says, fiddling with her camera.

"Yeah," I say, awkwardly, as I drive towards the parking lot exit.

Before I can get there, though, another car pulls up alongside me and rolls its window down. Inside are Alex, his girlfriend Jo, and Mark and Lexie.

"Hey, dude!" Mark calls. "Coming to the party, right?"

"I…" I rub the back of my neck anxiously. Just moments ago, I finished telling them I'd be there. I had planned on shooting them a text with some made-up excuse, but now that won't be so easy as we're face-to-face. "I don't think so," I say.

"What the fuck?" Alex says. "You literally just told me you'd come. Come on, dude. When you come, every does. You bring the fuckin' party."

"I… made other plans," I stammer.

"Doing what?" Mark asks.

I see Lexie elbow him and point, which tells me my cover is blown and they saw her.

"Dude, do you have fucking Kepner in your car?" Mark asks.

"I, uh, yeah," I say.

"Just go to the party," April says, from beside me. "Drop me off at home, and go. I don't care."

I don't have time to respond to her before my friends are on my ass again.

"Dude, finally getting it!" Alex shouts. "Nice!"

"Shut the fuck up," I say, through gritted teeth.

"It's about damn time," Mark says. "I'm pissed at you for ditching the party, but better late than never for you and this girl, Avery."

I want to sink into the earth and die. I give my friends a terse wave and they drive off, which leaves April and me in silence.

"What were they talking about?" she asks, her voice a peep in the darkness.

I know I can't say it was nothing, because it obviously wasn't. She was sitting right here through the whole thing, she heard it all.

"I should get you home," I say, trying to dodge the subject.

I'll stay admiring her from afar, it doesn't matter. In a few months, all of us are leaving for college anyway, and I can try to forget about April Kepner. Even though something tells me you don't just forget about girls like April Kepner.

"What were they talking about?" she asks again, more pressing this time.

I shake my head, staring out the windshield as the car moves slowly down the road. I don't know what to say, so I choose not to say anything.

"And why can't you look at me?"

"Kinda driving right now," I say, adjusting my hands on the wheel.

"You still won't look at me," she insists.

I set my jaw. My face flames, which it's never done before. She makes me feel things no one's ever gotten out of me, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

"Well, it's kinda hard to," I say.

"Why?" she spits, sounding defensive. "Because your stupid friends were making fun of you for hanging out with me, and now you're trying not to laugh?"

"Oh, my god," I say, and pull over next to the woods. She has her arms crossed, face set in a frown as she stares out the window. "No."

"Look, you should just take me home. I've had a bad enough night already, I don't need the whole football team ridiculing me on Monday morning because I was in your car."

"No, April, that's not why-"

"I don't wanna know," she says, turning her face further away. "Please. Just take me home."

I sigh in defeat and place my hands on the wheel again, driving to the neighborhood I biked through the other night. I pull up and gravel crunches beneath my tires, and she unbuckles quickly after gathering her stuff.

"Thanks for the ride," she mutters, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder and trudging into her house.

I let out a long groan once she's inside. Great, now she's single, and she thinks I'm a total ass. But it didn't feel right to tell her about my feelings on the night she broke up with her boyfriend. There would be something totally wrong with that. All I wanted to do was support her, but my friends made that impossible. Now, she thinks I make fun of her like a lot of people at school do.

I didn't think this situation could get any harder. But once again, I've proven myself wrong.

At school on Monday morning, Lexie catches me eating lunch in the library.

"Jackson?" she calls, walking towards me with an armful of books that she dumps on my table. "Why're you eating in here?"

I shrug. I'm not exactly happy with her because she was included in the car of idiots on Friday, but I like her better than Mark and Alex right now.

"Wanted to be alone, I guess," I mutter.

But she sits down anyway.

"I told the guys it wasn't cool, what they did on Friday," she says. "I'm sorry, they weren't trying to be mean."

"Yeah, well..." I grumble.

"I know," she says. "But I told them to back off."

"That'll last for about a day," I say. "Before they're on my ass again."

There's a slight pause where I finish my sandwich, and Lexie absentmindedly flips through the pages of a book.

"You really like her, don't you?" she says. "April."

I pinch my lips together. My feelings aren't easy for me to talk about, but I've known Lexie forever. If I can tell anyone, it's her. She becomes a different person without Mark around, one who's much easier to open up to.

"Yeah," I say, wiping my hands on my jeans. "And Friday went to shit. She thought you guys were making fun of her, and that I was, too. She broke up with that Matthew guy. And I wasn't even trying to get it in or anything, I just wanted to talk. I wanted to, I don't know, support her, I guess? And now she just thinks I'm a dick."

"I'm sure she doesn't think that," Lexie says. "Have you guys talked since?"

"We don't exactly talk," I say, shooting her a look. "I barely know her. We-"

"Then change that," she says, shrugging. "Easy. Get to know her."

"What?"

She rolls her eyes. "Jackson, she knows you're not a dick," she says. "You're a good guy with a very dickish exterior. But on the inside, you're like, the nicest guy ever. You should let more people see that. But most importantly, her. You should let her see that."

"I tried," I say.

"Well, try again," Lexie says.

I let her words sit with me for a moment as they solidify. It's the best advice I've gotten in a long time.

That night, I'm biking through town again to try and get my thoughts straight. Without consciously realizing it, I end up on April's street and her porch light is on.

This time, she's on the front steps without a book. Just sitting there with her elbows on her knees, chin in her palms, watching the night go by.

"Hi, Jackson," she says, and we make eye contact.

I coast and put on the brakes, coming to a complete halt right in front of her house.

"Hey," I say back.

She waves me over and I let my bike fall on its side in the grass. With my hands shoved in my pockets, I walk to stand in front of her and still find it hard to make eye contact.

"I'm sorry for being rude on Friday night," she says, voice clear.

"You don't have to apologize," I say, after a slight pause. "You had a shitty night. And my shitty friends made it worse. But April, I swear. They weren't… and I wasn't…"

"I know," she says. "I just get that way. I'm used to it, so I tend to jump to conclusions. A lot."

I scuff the sidewalk with the toe of my shoe. I don't know what's supposed to come next.

"I'm sorry, too, then," I say. "You know, for everything that happened, and also for making you feel like crap."

She shrugs. "You don't have to be sorry for what happened with me and Matthew," she says. "It was kinda waiting to happen. I was sad… I kind of still am, but just because he was my friend. And I definitely lost him as a friend. But I didn't really lose him as a lover, well, because… he never really felt like that."

I nod to myself, staring at my feet.

She giggles and asks, "Would you come sit next to me?"

I sit down and can smell her shampoo, sweet and fruity, as she pushes her hair behind her shoulders. She turns to face me, but all I can do is continue staring at the ground.

We've never sat this close, just the two of us. We've never sat so close where I can feel her minute movements, hear her breath, smell the mint gum she's chewing.

It's driving me insane. I don't think there's a single coherent thought in my head right now.

"Jackson," she says, and I practically shudder hearing her say my name. "Why can't you look at me?"

I chew the inside of my cheek. Do I say it? Do I keep it in?

All the rationale I've ever had tells me to shut my mouth, get back on my bike, and go home. Probably jack off in the shower, hate myself after. Because that's what I know.

But I stay cemented to this wooden step next to the unbearably cute girl I've had a crush on for years. Because she invited me here, and because I need to be here.

I need to say something for once in my life.

"Because I think you're gorgeous," I say, after clearing my throat. I lift my eyes from my shoes to look straight ahead, then finally over at her face. "I can't really look at you because… um, my throat does this stupid thing where it kinda clogs up. And my stomach gets all screwy. And my face gets hot. And I say really, really dumb shit." I sigh. "Because I think you're really gorgeous. And funny. And nice? And cute. And smart as hell. And, um, well, I've kinda felt like this for a long time. And I know I sound like a complete idiot right now, and I never talk like this, but-"

Interrupting me, she plants one cold hand on my cheek. And before I can register what's happening, she's kissing me. April is kissing me; her soft, warm lips moving over mine and catching me totally off-guard. My heart is hammering so hard I think it might fly out of my mouth, and I've never felt this vulnerable in my life.

She's turned me into a bumbling idiot I never thought I'd be.

When we pull away, I want more. I want so much more, but I don't let my hands wander. Instead, I keep them locked around her wrists and we just sit there for a moment, smiling like idiots.

She squeezes my hand and gets up, headed towards her front door. "See you," she says, wiggling her fingers in a wave.

I didn't sleep at all last night because I couldn't get what happened out of my head. I pour my heart out to her, she kisses me, then all she says is 'see you?' It doesn't make any sense. I don't understand girls.

Who am I kidding? I don't understand myself.

I keep my head low as I walk into school, heading towards my locker without bothering to stop and socialize with anyone. Once I get there, I'm so lost in my head I almost don't notice a small piece of paper that floats down from the top shelf once the door swings open.

But I see it hit the carpet in front of my feet, so I bend to pick it up. I unfold the tiny square and smile when I read what's written. In neat and curly handwriting, it says:

I want to see you again.