I start to speak, but she cuts me off. “We talked,” she says, exhausted. “James and I talked. That’s all. He had asked for my dad’s permission to marry me. I didn’t know. I wanted to know what my dad had said to him, because I need a memory of him—of them, my family. Because I’m starting to forget them . . .” Her voice breaks as tears begin to flow again, and a sob overcomes her entire body. “I feel like I’m starting to forget them, Jake—like they’re fading away, and I don’t want that. What your mom did with this room for me . . . I felt like they were here with me. I could smell the memories in my blankets and clothes. But they’re all going . . . The memories are fading, and sometimes . . .” She stops to close her eyes and take a breath. “Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can’t see my family anymore. But I don’t want to forget them. He helped me remember, Jake. That’s all.”

   I crawl into bed with her and tuck her head under my chin. “You’ll never forget them, Kayla. They’ll always live in your heart.”

   It’s quiet for the longest time as she cries quietly in my arms. When the sounds of her crying stop, and I think she’s fallen asleep, she whispers, “Jake, after we move into the house, I’m going to find a job, then I’m moving out. I can’t be this broken girl anymore.”

   I don’t say anything, because what can I say? It’s the last thing I ever wanted.

THIRTY-FIVE

MIKAYLA

   It’s moving day.

   It would be an understatement to say that things have been awkward between Jake and me since the night of the bonfire party. Now we’ll be living together until I can save up enough money to move out. I want to tell him that it’s not because of him—it’s because of me. I don’t want to think that our circumstances are the only reason we feel the way we do for each other—if he feels anything for me at all.

   I had hired movers to take some of the furniture from storage to the house. Mandy was at the house to oversee it all. After I said a very tearful good-bye, and a billion thank-yous, to Mandy and Nathan, I went upstairs to say good-bye to Julie.

   She’d been in her room most of the day. I guess she wasn’t very happy about our leaving. I had gotten close to Julie over the last couple of months. She didn’t replace Emily, but she came pretty close.

   I wanted to give her a special gift, so I had written a fairy tale for her and gotten it professionally illustrated. It was about a little girl who was a princess, of course. She wore a cape, because she believed that one day she’d be able to fly and dance in the clouds.

   Her older brother, the Prince, was a secret superhero who went around at night saving the world—in his baseball gear, of course. His powers came from his right hand. He would raise it to the sky, and the sun would beam down on it. His hand held the strength of a thousand men.

   The Queen and King, her parents, were also heroes—but not your normal everyday ones. They were the kind of hero who loved and cared for those who didn’t have anyone else to love and care for them. Julie loved the story, and when Mandy and Nathan read it, they loved it, too.

   We’re now in the car. It’s a two-hour drive to Jake’s house, and we’re driving in silence.

   Awkward as hell.

   “So,” he says out of nowhere, surprising me and making me jerk in my seat a little. “Julie showed me the book.”

   “Oh, yeah?”

   “It’s beautiful, Kayla—really. You’re something else, you know that?” He says this without taking his eyes off the road.

   More silence.

   I guess he can’t take the quiet anymore, because he plays with his stereo until the Bluetooth connects with his phone. And then . . .

   “What Makes You Beautiful” by One Direction comes on.

   My head snaps up. His eyes are wide, a blush creeping to his cheeks. “Holy shit!” I cry out in laughter. “One Direction, Jake? Really? What happened to you in the last two weeks?”

   He laughs—a good, all-out, carefree laugh. I miss it so much. And God, I miss him so much. “Shut up!” he says, looking at me sideways. “It must have been on a compilation I downloaded, or JuJu probably put it on there!”

   “What? Your eight-year-old sister took your phone and downloaded One Direction on it? For what? For the times she has your phone and you don’t?” I’m laughing now, tears in my eyes.

   “I honestly don’t know how it got there. I swear it.” He laughs again.

   By the time we get to the house, we’ve listened to the song no less than twenty times. We now know most of the words and have half a dance routine made up for it. Thank you, One Direction, for breaking this awkward tension. If for nothing else, I will always remember that one song for bringing back the most important person in my life.

THIRTY-SIX

MIKAYLA

   It’s not enough that I have to live—and deal—with Jake Andrews. Now I have to put up with Jake Andrews in college. And that Jake Andrews is at a whole other level that I didn’t even know existed. Everyone around me definitely downplayed the hype around his coming here, because he is a big deal. I can’t go anywhere without his being stopped every two minutes. Everyone wants a piece of him—and I mean everyone.

           I thought that Marisa chick was hot, but she’s nothing compared to the women here. And I say “women,” because that’s what they are—older, more experienced women. From the couple of college parties I’ve experienced in the last two weeks, I know he can have any girl here.

   Which is why I choose not to go to many parties at all.

   I’m still that frumpy, stupid, jealous, insecure little girl I was at the hotel.

   In our home, he’s my Jake, and I’m his Kayla. We hug, hold hands, talk, and laugh. We don’t kiss, and we haven’t taken things further than innocent touching. As hard as it is, we have held back.

   But the minute we step out that door, I shut down. I don’t want to be known as the girl who hangs around Jake Andrews—the one he saved one tragic night and cared for when no one else did. And I don’t want the other girls to see me as competition, because I was that girl with James and Megan—and there are way too many Megans in college. Only this time, it would hurt so much more, because what I feel for Jake, when I let myself feel it, is a thousand times heavier than what I felt for James . . . which means the heartbreak would hurt a thousand times more, and I don’t think my heart can handle any more pain. So out there, in the real world, I don’t let myself feel the love I have for him, because I really, truly, and deeply love him.

   And I’m so fucking scared that I’m not enough. That I’ll never really be enough for him—my Jake.