"Dude, I need—Whoa! Fuck! Shit!" Jake stammered from the doorway.

 Amanda squealed and rolled off the bed, falling to the floor with a thud. She hid her body from Jake's view.

 "Shit!" Jake repeated, his eyes huge, but his head faced the ceiling. "Dude, I—I mean—I didn't know—uhh—the room, shit..."

 Fuck.

 I lazily put my dick back in my shorts.

 "Uh." Jake again. "I'll be in the kitchen...you guys...finish? Shit." Then he closed the door behind him.

 Amanda came to a stand. "What the hell?" she whispered, her eyes bugging out. She slapped me on the chest.

 I laughed.

 ***

 "I'm sorry." Jake ran his hands through his hair.

 I shook my head. "It's fine. What's up?"

 Amanda walked in, her face red. "Hi Jake," she greeted, her eyes trained on the floor.

 "Hey," he responded, refusing to look at her.

 Awkward.

 "Kayla made me come. Not come—like you guys just—not—I mean, here. She made me come here."

 "Oh God," Amanda groaned. Her hands covered her face.

 I laughed and jumped to sit on the counter. I pulled her in between my legs; she plastered her face to my chest.

 "Is she okay?" I asked Jake.

 He nodded, leaning back against the counter opposite me. "Yeah. I um...she made me come here to apologize."

 My eyebrows drew in. "What do you mean?"

 "I was an asshole last night—about the whole Megan thing. We've never spoken about it, not like that. And I guess we just had different takes on it. Kayla said I was being insensitive to you—and your situation—so she made me come here and apologize. But I'm not gonna lie, you're my best friend, she's my girl...Megan—she's nobody to me. And I want it to stay that way."

 I sighed. "I get that, dude. I honestly don't know what I want yet."

 "She wants to be there," he rushed out.

 "What?"

 "If you decide to meet her or whatever. Kayla—she wants to be there."

 ***

 We tried to get back to sleep after Jake left but we couldn't. We both skipped classes and opted to lie in bed and waste the morning away. I tried to get her to finish what she started, but she denied me, saying it was her form of punishment for not knowing that she gets horny when she's delusion-ally tired. I tried to convince her that I told her Jake was here, but she didn't believe me. She let me watch her while she showered—I guess that's something.

 "Did you know her? Megan?" I asked, running my hands along her legs.

 We lay opposite each other in bed. I convinced her on a no shirt—no pants rule.

 She looked up from her e-reader, and shrugged. "Kind of," she said, but avoided my eyes.

 I sat up and pulled on her arms until she was upright. I raised an eyebrow in question. She sighed, switching off the e-reader and throwing it next to her. "I don't want to say anything that's going to sway your decision. It's your decision, and like I said, I'll support you no matter what."

 "Yeah, but your opinion counts," I told her.

 "It shouldn't."

 "How can it not? You're the most important person in my life, of course it counts."

 She smiled, looking down at the sheets. Her cheeks turned a shade of pink. I rubbed them with the back of my fingers, she kissed my wrist and shifted until she was siting cross-legged in front of me. She opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut. She did that a few times before she finally spoke, "We didn't run in the same circles in high school. Apart from when she was trying to steal Tyson, or made an effort to let me know I wasn't good enough for him, she just flat out ignored me."

 "What?"

 She bit her thumb, her eyes cast downwards. Shrugging, she said, "Yeah, it happened a lot. I don't think I ever really got over it—hence why I was so insecure when he went to college." She tried to smile but it didn't reach her eyes.

 "I wonder why Micky was friends with her."

 "Yeah, I never got it. Micky was always so nice to everyone, she wasn't catty or bitchy, even when Megan was around. But one day my car broke down and Micky pulled over with Megan and she offered me a ride. She had to drop by her house to pick up her sister for some dance thing. We had half an hour to spare so we went in the house and hung out for a bit. Her whole family was there—and Megan—she was different with them. I don't know. It's hard to explain, like she could be herself around them or something. She joked and laughed with them. She even gave Micky's sister a Justin Beiber poster for her room. I don't know," she shrugged again, "I think maybe that was who she was, you know? But she just struggled with it, and I remember thinking even then that maybe she didn't have that at home. That family-ness..."

 "Huh," is all I could say.

 "But that's not—there's more."

 "Okay," I said cautiously.

 "So, Ethan dated this girl, that was kind of friends with her—or whatever—I'm not sure. Anyway—she told him that she was in L.A, the year after we graduated, and she bumped into Megan there. Only it wasn't really Megan. Not the one everyone knew. She said she tried to get her to have a meal with her because it looked like she hadn't eaten for days. She was so thin, and her eyes were hollow looking. She told Ethan that she looked and smelled homeless. So this girl takes Megan to a diner and she's completely out of it. Like, can't even finish sentences out-of-it. Then she took off her jacket and there were bruises all over her arms and chest and neck, and she had track marks."

 "Bruises?" My voice cracked.

 "Yeah," she said, holding my hands in hers. "Rumor has it that after Micky found out about her and James, she tried to make it work with him, but he didn't love her the way he loved Micky, and it was obvious, so she met some guy and moved to L.A with him. The guy ended up being an asshole drug dealer. Apparently when he was here, he wooed her off her feet, promised her the world. When they got there it all went to hell. They lived in this awful house with a bunch of junkies and she got involved in it, too, I guess. And then it got worse."

 I shut my eyes, not wanting to hear what I thought she was about to say.

 "Logan?" she said quietly. She released my hands and sat on my lap, her legs around me, where she knew I wanted her. "You want me to stop?"

 I opened my eyes, and she was there, a concerned look on her face. I shook my head slowly. I needed to know.

 "Apparently the guy started beating her."

 I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. My heart pounded against my chest. Blood rushed in my ears.

 "According to the way she looked that day, he beat her pretty bad. She told Ethan that you could see an entire hand print, fingers and all, bruised on her neck."