"He's just some prick from school. He brown-noses Brighton and gets all the easy charts."

"Why is he taking our picture?"

Logan snapped another one, and I realized my hand was still around Tatum's arm. I looked at us together, and then back to Logan's phone.

"Mother . . . fucker." Eureka. "I'm gonna kill this fuckin' kid. I swear."

"Callum?"

"Timothy's playing him. He's using him. That's why he gets the easy work. That dumbass couldn't punch his way out of a wet paper bag, but he's in the same class as me and not failing? Right."

"But . . . for what?"

My mind swam. "Something with Everly. That's the only reason he'd have." I turned her away from the window. "I don't want him to know I've figured it out. Let me test a theory?"

"What theory?"

"Just don't knee me in the balls."

I leaned in and kissed her quickly on the lips. When I looked over my shoulder Logan had his phone raised. I pretended like I was trying to hide a second kiss.

"Okay-okay!" She shoved me away. "Enough theory, Callum! Shit, you understand that Nick can kill a man with a bullet from two thousand yards, right?"

"I need to go find Everly."

There's this really good reason why I have loved Tatum Quade since elementary school. "Want me to knee this Logan bastard in the balls?" she asked.

And that was damn near close to it.

I was ten minutes late when I finally reached my house. She wasn't on the steps waiting, and I hated the idea of her walking away, let down. I brought my books inside to drop them off, fully planned on sneaking into her window tonight, but we've already had this talk about God and plans.

Everly sat on the middle of my bed.

Everly sat on the middle of my bed dressed in grey knee-socks and a violet sweater-dress.

Everly sat on my bed dressed in grey knee-socks, a violet sweater-dress, and new blonde hair.

I might as well have had taffy in my mouth as I stumbled toward the mattress.

"You're late," she accused.

"You're ..." my eyes scrolled over her again. I landed on my knees at the foot of the bed, and rested my chin on the mattress. "Not real. It's impossible that you're real. So you're not."

She rolled on her stomach and put our noses close. "Have you been drinking?"

"I don't drink, remember?" My fingers combed her long, baby-soft hair. "But I do feel incredibly intoxicated, Topolina. Jesus Christ."

"I knew you had a thing for blondes."

My finger traced her cheek. "I have a thing for you."

She smiled and turned her head slowly side-to-side effectively causing my finger to play across her lips.

Her voice was smaller than her question. "Is there enough time, tonight?"

I wasn't dumb. It was just wiser to stall. "For?"

"A kiss." She pressed into my hand eagerly. And it would have been so easy to lean in and place my lips on hers, but there was truth sitting on my tongue that I had to spit out first.

"I kissed Tatum tonight."

She froze.

"I meant to do it. I did it on purpose."