Alex: "Hey, Hunter, remember when you and Azalea went to the beach that weekend?"

Hannah: "Yeah, and didn't invite us to come with you!"

Hunter: "Well, it wasn't all fun and games. Dale was there. And to top it all off, that's the weekend I found out about Earnestine."

Azalea Rose Jackson:

"Azalea Rose, we need to talk." Those had been my mother's words when she'd called me to her room, and I'd grown instantly nervous—she never called me by my full name unless something was terribly wrong.

"Mom?" I asked once I arrived. "What's the matter? Is there a problem?"

Her back arched toward me, my mother lifted her eyes to glare at my reflection in her mirror. "Why, yes, Azalea. Yes, there is. Lyndon Evanston left a voice message on my answering machine at work yesterday."

"Who's Lyndon Evanston?"

"Don't play dumb with me, child. He's Dale's father, and I know you walked out on Dale at Sylve DuLánge!"

"Mom, he was an arrogant, self-righteous animal—"

"AZALEA!" my mother screeched, whirling from the mirror to face me in the flesh. "Did you at least have the decency to not make a scene as you besmirched our family name?"

"Of course," I answered evenly, crossing my arms. "I didn't make a scene at all. I just ran to the bathroom and crawled out the window."

My mother gasped. "You. Sneaked. Out. Through the WHAT!?" Seething, she placed two fingers on her forehead and sighed heavily. "Azalea, has all that I've taught you about etiquette meant nothing? I can't believe you wasted a lovely afternoon running around like a rapscallion and hiding from such a wonderful young man!"

"Mom, Dale Evanston is anything but wonderful. He's egocentric, self-absorbed, and domineering! I don't know how anyone could survive a date with him!"

"Azalea! You are a young lady. It is not yours to question and challenge. If Dale was impolite—which I highly doubt—I am entirely convinced that you provoked him to it!" She shook her head and placed a hand on her hip. "Both he and his father were very offended by your actions on Friday. But, gentleman that he is, Dale has agreed to a second date, on the condition that you apologize—and I stipulate that you must issue him a written apology, and one to his father as well!"

"Mom, that's insane! You weren't even there. Ask anyone, including that poor waiter who Dale talked to like he was dirt! Why should I have to apologize for—"

My mother held up her hand, shutting her eyes. "Azalea, I will hear no more of it. My decision is final. You will write Dale a letter of apology, a letter that I will be meticulously reviewing—both for grammar and for sincerity. And then you and Dale will go on another date. I have made reservations for this weekend at the Hotel San Varino, and don't even think about skipping out."

"I don't believe this! You're forcing me to date someone!"

"If you prefer to look at it that way, then yes, I suppose I am." She turned to the mirror again and reached for the gaudy makeup bag she'd left unzipped on the dresser's top. "Now go, Azalea. You have your orders." She raised a garish golden cylinder from the bag, twisting its edge to reveal bright red lipstick that she began applying. "Have the letter written by dinner tonight."

"Mom, I have homework." I was searching for any excuse I could find. "That calculus class at Stanford is—"

"Then you had better write quickly. Now leave me. I must freshen up—beauty is an art, and its grand reveal requires much prior preparation." She waved her hand dismissively, shooing me away like a gnat.

****

The rest of the week went by a lot faster than I wanted it to. It had been only Wednesday when my mother had mandated my date with Dale, but the next thing I knew, the bright and sultry sunshine of a Friday afternoon was shimmering all around me. After I left my Calculus III class at Stanford, I was not looking forward to the weekend.

I caught up to Hunter outside, knowing he was just about the only person who could make me smile at a time like this. "Hey, Hunter!"

"Azalea, hey!" He turned, eyes instantly brightening as he grinned widely at me.

I glanced away, fleeing for a moment from those shiny pools of blue as sadness stretched across my face.

His hand gripped mine. "Hey, what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "I...I have a huge favor to ask of you."

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"My mom's making me go on another date with Dale this weekend."

He gasped. "Seriously? Azalea, that's crazy."

"Yeah," I said, shaking my head again. "And look at this." My eyes rising finally to meet Hunter's, I handed him that stupid apology note for Dale. "My mom forced me to do this on Wednesday. I honestly wanted to throw up in my mouth the entire time I was writing it."

Hunter opened it and read. "What a load of bull crap," he growled. "It's ridiculous that you have to say sorry to that jerk."

"Yeah, tell me about it." I paused uneasily. "So, I was wondering if, maybe...you wanna come to the beach this weekend?" My eyes darted away instantly. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, I totally understand, especially since Dale's gonna be there. And the beach is kinda far away and all—but I'd totally pay you back for gas if you did come. But I'd also totally understand if you didn't because, I mean, I wouldn't want to if my friend were going to be—"

"Azalea," he spoke up, laughing, "of course I'll come. I'd love to."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Really?"

He nodded. "Sure thing."

I smiled, brushed my hair to the side as he blushed back at me. "Thanks, Hunter."

"When do we leave?" his voice was so warm, so caring. "Do you need me to pick you up or—?"

"That's the thing," I added uneasily. "We don't. My mom says I have to ride over there in Dale's car. I can't even bring mine." A low sigh escaped my lips. "She doesn't trust me...probably with good reason," I laughed.

"So then...I follow you guys there?"

"Yes, please," I said sheepishly, my eyes darting away again. "Look, I feel really bad asking you to sacrifice your weekend for me just so I don't have to go it alone with Dale..."

"Azalea, hey." He reached out both hands to rest on my shoulders. "Don't sweat it, okay? It's really not that big of a deal—I mean it."

I turned back to face him, to stare in those vivid blue eyes once more as he spoke: "Plus, I love the beach. It'll be like a mini vacation," he laughed.

Oh, how I loved that laugh, that boyish laugh that made everything seem lighter, happier. That laugh that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, this weekend wouldn't be so bad.

****

Dale was at my house at six o'clock sharp. When he rang the bell and that sonorous pitch echoed throughout my home, I actually groaned out loud.

"Azalea!" my mother screeched from afar before running downstairs to examine every inch of my frame. "Chin up! Shoulders squared!" she ordered.

I did as she said, then turned to answer the door on ebony high heels streaked with silver.

"Why, hello there, Ms. Jackson."

I was not about to play his game. "Hi, Dale," I said as informally as possible, placing a single hand on my hips, distorting the platinum fabric of my dress that shone under the moon's spotlighting rays.

Dale escorted me up the sidewalk and toward his car, my mother watching from the doorway and practically bursting with excitement as Dale offered his hand to help me inside his vehicle.

I lowered myself inside as nonchalantly as I could, taking my seat and folding my hands across my lap. I considered placing my high-heel-strapped feet on the dashboard the moment he closed my door, but I decided against it. Big Mother was still watching, after all.

"So," Dale began the moment he started driving, "how have you been keeping since our last encounter?"

"Dale, why are you doing this?" I blurted. "Why are you chasing after me? There are probably a million other girls who'd love to go to the beach with you. I ditched you in the middle of our first 'date,' if you can even call it that. Why on earth do you want a second?"

His eyes sparkled for a moment, flashing briefly with uncertainty. "It's...there's just something different about you, Azalea. And for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is."

"Maybe that's a clue that you should stop trying."

"Why are you so put off with me, Azalea? It's obvious that you don't like me, but why? Am I not attractive enough? Do I not turn you on?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course that would be your first guess. Did you ever, for once in your life, think that there could be something more inside a girl's head than how a guy looks? Yes, Dale, you are attractive. In fact, you're probably the most attractive guy I've ever met. But do you really think I'm so shallow that I care?"

"You seemed to care when we first met. You almost passed out when I simply moved to shake your hand."

I felt my cheeks burning—how dare he bring that up! "When we first met, Dale, I had no idea who you were. I was giving you the benefit of the doubt because you had the decency to at least act like a gentleman. But you quickly proved to be anything but."

"And how exactly did I do that? By opening the door for you? By complimenting your appearance? By paying for your food—food, might I add, that you only ate one bite of before leaving me waiting for an hour at the dining table!"

I paused for dramatic effect, clearing my throat. "No, Dale, you proved ungentlemanly by laughing arrogantly at everything I said and treating me like your personal sex toy!"

"My goodness, Azalea! Can't you take a joke?"

"Oh, please. Don't even give me that. You weren't joking then, and you're not joking now."

"You really think it's ladylike to be so antagonistic?"

"I never said I was sophisticated."

"Are you always this hateful?"

"If I say yes, will you promise to never talk to me again?" I crossed my arms and turned to stare out the window as I heard Dale sigh to my left.

"Listen, Azalea. I just want to prove to you that I'm not as horrible as you think I am. Will you at least give me that chance?"

I exhaled, rolling my eyes. "Fine. But if you screw this up, I'm done with you."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. We arrived at the hotel around six-thirty, and Dale checked us both in under his name. The concierge, a tall and grandfatherly man named Amos, helped Dale to carry our bags upstairs, while I left for a moment to "check out the gift shop." Dale bought the excuse, and I scurried off behind a smiling couple pulling luggage across the hotel's marbled floor.

I gulped as I arrived at the entrance to the hotel gift shop. I hope he didn't change his mind, I thought to myself, then paused. Azalea, stop that—he said he'd come; he'll be here.

I peeked my head around the outer corner to the shop's entrance, looking for any sign of Hunter.

"Azalea!" he called from inside. "Over here!"

A wave of relief crashed over me. I practically bounded toward him as he stood absconded behind a towering rack of beachy t-shirts. "Hunter, thank you so much for coming," I breathed. "That car ride was awful. Dale's upstairs now unpacking our things, and he wants to go to dinner at seven."

"You can do this, Azalea," Hunter told me confidently. "Just have a good time."

I rolled my eyes.

"Where are you guys going, anyway?"

"Pieles y Canelas, that Mexican flatbread café."

"No way! I love that place!" His eyes grew wide. "Please say you want me to tag along."

"You read my mind," I said with a laugh. "Now I have to go before Dale gets suspicious. See you at seven." I kissed him on the cheek and smiled.

****

Since Pieles y Canelas was just up the street, Dale and I left the hotel about twenty minutes to seven. When we arrived, the hostess escorted us to the middle of the restaurant, right under a high-hanging crystal chandelier that cast sparkles of light directly on what would serve as our table.

Great, I thought, just like old times.

"Something wrong, dear?" Dale asked, snuggling up next to me as I stood staring at the table.

"No," I said curtly, "I just would've liked some more privacy."

"Well, there'll be plenty of time for that later," he whispered, leaning in to brush his lips over mine.

I'm so over this. My palm shot up from my side and shoved his face away before he could land a kiss.

"Oh, come now, don't be like that," he said as he tried again.

Hand lunging into my purse with lightning speed, I retrieved a bottle of mace and sprayed him straight in the face.

He shrieked in pain as his arms shot up to shield his eyes. "What's wrong with you, Azalea!?" He retreated to the bathroom with wails of agony as everyone turned to stare at me.

But I didn't care, not one bit. I walked straight to the front of the café where Hunter was sitting at the bar, where he'd been furtively watching everything that'd just gone down with Dale. I looked so angry that he wasn't sure what to do at first.

I sat there for a moment, for several moments, felt my breathing return to normal as the red behind my eyes began to dissipate.

"Azalea, a-are you okay?" Hunter asked me.

I stared right back at him. "Does this answer your question?" Leaning forward on the bar stool that I'd claimed for my very own, I kissed him, kissed him wildly. A symphony of gasps and ooh's erupted throughout the restaurant as I clasped his head in my hands, my fingers running through his rich, luscious hair and holding his head securely in place.

His lips were so warm, so soft, so inviting. "I really like you," I breathed. "And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say that."

Bright red blush steamed across his cheeks, a bashful smile lighting against them.

I leaned forward and kissed him again—heard even more gasps, even more ooh's—echoing through the air all around.

When I withdrew from Hunter, smiled back at his still blushing face, I felt a firm and calloused hand viciously grip my arm. "Azalea, what do you think you're doing!?" thundered Dale's voice from behind me.

I turned around slowly, defiantly, ripping my arm free of his grasp. "What does it look like I'm doing. I'm kissing my boyfriend."

The rage on his face turned to shock.

"That's right—I said he's my boyfriend." I crossed my arms. "I am so over you, Dale Evanston. When you asked me for a second chance in the car, I thought that just maybe you had changed. But you've shown me tonight that you're nothing but the pig I thought you were! How dare you try to force a kiss on me! I don't love you! I don't even like you!"

His lips twisted suddenly into an arrogant grin, and he started to chuckle knowingly. "You're such a fool," he said. "In your attempt to show me up in front of all these people, you've embarrassed only yourself."

"But I'm not embarrassed, Dale," I countered without flinching. "I like Hunter, and I don't care who knows it."

"Not even your mother?" he fired back, raising an eyebrow as he lifted his iPhone from his pocket. "See this phone? It has a camera. And before I pulled you off of Hunter, I snapped at least a dozen photos."

I took a step back. "Wait, what? You mean to tell me that you seriously stood there and took pictures of us while we were kissing? How childish are you, Dale?"

"Childish? Azalea, you're the one who's childish. You make a big scene in front of the entire restaurant and then leave your date to go make out with some preppy blond boy. I can't wait for Luvietta to hear this."

"You're bluffing," I laughed. "And that's just pathetic."

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. But if I were you, I wouldn't want to find out. The way I see it, you have two options—come with me back to our hotel, where you can fully apologize for your actions tonight; or go home and have fun explaining to your mother how girlishly impulsive you are, throwing away a marvelous evening kissing such pathetic filth!"

I was so beyond tactfulness at that point. "Are you seriously trying to use those pictures to blackmail me into having sex with you?" I paused, then laughed again. "You know, what's sad is that doesn't even surprise me."

"Make fun of me all you want, Azalea. But like it or not, I hold all the cards now." He waved his phone in the air.

I uncrossed my arms to place one on my hip. "Do you really think that's going to change a word I've said? Go ahead. Send the pictures. In fact, give me the phone, and I'll send them for you." I extended my hand mockingly, then giggled when he scowled. "I am not sorry for standing you up at Sylve DuLánge, I am not sorry for swatting you away when you tried to kiss me, and I am definitely not sorry for liking Hunter. In fact, the only thing I am sorry for is that I'll never be able to erase the awful memory of you from my brain. Go waste some other girl's time. I'm finished with you."

He glared at me cruelly, but my gaze met his with every ounce of unyielding defiance inside of me.

"Azalea, if you walk out on me now, you will live to regret it!" he screamed.

I thought about laughing again, but I actually yawned instead, then turned to Hunter.

Under normal circumstances, I might have said something else sarcastic to Dale; but I just couldn't bring myself to care enough. When he finally took the hint and walked away, I smiled at Hunter and sighed with relief. "Thanks for playing along," I breathed.

"Playing along?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice uneasy for the first time since I'd sprayed Dale with mace. "Sorry for putting you on the spot. I know I shouldn't have kissed you like that and then called you my boyfriend—I just didn't know how else to get him to leave me alone." I twirled a lock of hair nervously between my fingers. "And I know it was wrong to use another person to do that, but I really do like you, Hunter. I wasn't lying, and...." My voice trailed off, caught in my throat by doubt and indecision.

I can't believe I'm about to say this: "And I wish you were my boyfriend. So I guess what I said was at least halfway true."

His eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Hunter, what girl wouldn't want you to be her boyfriend? You're the sweetest, nicest, friendliest guy I've ever met. And I know that I've been stuck going on dates with Dale recently, but I promise I don't feel the same way about him as I do about you." I instinctively flicked my head to the left as I said that last part. But I forced myself to turn back, to look Hunter in the eyes before I continued:

"And even if you're not interested in me like that, I'm content with staying just friends as long as it means that we get to go on crazy adventures together—crawling out of bathroom windows, hiding like spies in my basement, rendezvousing in hotel gift shops... I like being around you, Hunter. I really, really like being around you."

His face flushed, fully and totally flushed, the bright pink highlighting the blue in his eyes. I hoped I wasn't embarrassing him, but I knew I couldn't stop—if for no one but myself,