Thanks to Luke's three AM drop off and the fact that thoughts of my father plagued me all night my eyelids felt like they weighed thirty pounds as I sat in my first period class. Actually, it was extremely difficult to stay awake all day, and I nearly fell asleep in all my classes. It wasn't until science class, when my teacher shut the lights off to show us a PowerPoint, that my eyes actually did slide shut and I napped the rest of the period.

Thankfully, I had Brett there, and he nudged me awake at the end of the period. "Get up before Mr. Gosse sees you slept all class."

I smile lazily at him, feeling a bit better having some sleep under my belt, albeit less than an hour. When we were walking out, I praised him, "Thanks for waking me up. I seriously could've slept through eighth period."

Brett chuckles beside me. "Were you up late partying on a Monday night or something?"

"Something like that," I mutter begrudgingly.

"You can take a proper nap in forty five minutes," Brett offers with an optimistic smile. "I, on the other hand, have a game at seven. No naps for me."

We turned down the corner into the hallway of my English class as I sneak a glance at him. Brett's profile showed how attractive his strong jawline was, and it was easy to stare at him. I never really noticed before. He turned his head before I could answer and caught me looking at him, so I brushed it off with a smile and stared forward.

"A game?" I echo lamely.

"Our last game, actually, unless we somehow beat Waldwick High." Brett mutters, then brightens. "You should come."

My gaze focused on his again and he was looking at me hopefully. "Come?"

We stop in front of Ms. Hayes room and I turn to look at him again. He's laughing at me, shaking his head dismissively. "Are you even listening to me?"

I smile apologetically as I realize I'm merely repeating whatever he says. "Yes, I am," I ensure. "But didn't we talk about why I don't go to games anymore?"

Brett shrugs. "You don't have to watch Thomas. You can pay attention to me."

His cheeky grin makes me laugh. Why not? "Sure, I'll come."

Brett's grin widens if possible as he rubs his hands together. "Cool. I'll be the good looking one running the ball into the end zone."

"I'll remember that." I nod my head thoughtfully.

The bell rings dully over the speakers, and Ms. Hayes pops up in the doorway to shut the door. "Hey Lauren, I'm about to start class."

I smile politely at her. "Right, sorry." And then glancing at Brett as I walk in the door I say, "See you tonight."

And as I faced the full class already sitting in their seats and giving me their (unwanted) attention, before Mrs. Hayes shut the classroom door, I heard Brett call: "See you tonight, Lauren."

Despite the fact that the whole classroom was either watching me or murmuring about my plans with Brett that they so obviously overheard, I skillfully ignore their stares as I head to the back row. But as I pass Bailey, I can't help but notice her calculating gaze rest on me, her expression mirroring one of disappointment.

I look away and try to ignore the bothersome feeling in my chest as I pass her and continue for the back row. My new seat in the back was beside Vincent, who I hadn't known was even in my class until I traded front row for hiding in the back row. I slip into my seat as Ms. Hayes begins outlining our discussion.

She hadn't been speaking for a mere minute before Vincent leans over and asks quietly, "Where are you going tonight?"

"The football game," I say without looking over at him. "Brett invited me to watch him play."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vincent turn to me and frown. Before I can ask him why he's looking at me like that, or even turn to him at all, he asks, "What are you doing this weekend?"

I glance at him and my brow knits together. "I don't know, it's only Tuesday. Why?"

His frown is replaced with a slight smirk. "Just wondering."

I spent the rest of the class trying not to fall sleep despite how enticing the idea was. After all, there were a multitude of heads blocking mine, shielding me from the writing on the board and the teachers eyes, and I knew I could get away with it. Still, I felt too bad doing that to my favorite teacher, so I forced my eyes open and paid attention all class.

When the final bell rang, it shocked me out of the almost pocket of sleep that I had been avoiding since the beginning of class. Slowly, I dragged myself up, and collected my things into my backpack. The rest of the room cleared out as I moved tiredly, and by the time I finally shrugged my backpack over my shoulders, me and Vincent were the only ones left.

I cover my mouth with my arm as a yawn escapes me and Vincent asks curiously, "Why are you so tired? You looked like you were seconds away from passing out all class."

I shrug at him. "Didn't sleep much last night."

Another smirk slips onto his lips before he continues in a nonchalant voice, "Nathan looked pretty tired this morning, too. He gave me the same answer, actually."

The memory of us standing outside of my house at three in the morning flashes in my mind and, for some reason, it makes my heart skip a beat. Even the faintest memory of Nathan somehow managed to excite me. I tried not to project this on the outside as I looked at Vincent and rolled my eyes. 

"Coincidence," I mumble lamely. "Bye, Vincent."

He chuckles as I start to walk down the hallway away from him before he calls, "See you tomorrow, Lauren!"

Letting out an exhausted breath, I start toward the parking lot, already thinking about the comfort my bed would bring. I had been daydreaming about the moment I could finally nap in my bed instead of my desk, which had been rigid and uncomfortable, despite the fact I managed to fall asleep sitting in science. 

When I exit the front doors of the school, the first thing I laid my eyes on was Nathan. He was leaning against his motorcycle looking like the stereotypical poster child for a bad boy clad in a leather jacket with a white shirt underneath and an angry deposition to tie it all together. He looked like he was fighting with Holden, who was annoyingly relaxed across from Nathan.

I tore my gaze away from him and made a beeline for Betsy while my mind wandered to what they could be arguing about. Did it have to do with last night? And why Holden ditched Luke? Even though I was curious for answers, I was far too tired to focus on trying to get them, and instead prioritized sleep over my curiosity. 

So, with my bed in mind, I shoved my key in the ignition. But when I turned it, I heard a horrifying spluttering noise come from the engine, and my heart dropped. My eyes widened and hand rested nervously on the dashboard as I tried again, but the same noise came from my car instead of my engine turning over. 

I felt my heart break in two at the noise as I muttered, "You have got to be kidding me."

And as I tried a third time only to hear the spluttering noise of my engine failing, I shut my eyes tightly and let my forehead drop to rest on the steering wheel. Betsy was dead. I groan to myself, thinking about the long walk to my house before I could finally sleep, and then about what the hell I was going to do with my car. 

A knock on the drivers window made my head slowly rise and I glanced to the source. Nathan was watching me with an amused expression as his voice, muffled from the window between us, asks sarcastically, "Car trouble?"

I was too sad to come up with witty response and push the drivers door open instead to whine, "Betsy won't turn on."

"Betsy?" Nathan smirks wider. "You named your car Betsy?"

Maybe if I weren't so exhausted, I would've been embarrassed by his taunting tone, but I just groaned again. "Yes I named my car Betsy and no she won't turn on. She's dead!"

Nathan puts a hand on the my car door to open it wider. "She's not dead, just in a coma. I can fix her up this weekend."

My eyes glimmer with hope for the first time since I heard that god awful noise coming from my beloved car. "Really?"

"Sure," Nathan promises with an easy shrug. "Now, do you need a ride home?"

"Yes," I breathe in relief, but stop myself when I remember his vehicle of choice, and narrow my eyes at him. "No. You have your motorcycle. I'm not getting on that thing."

He rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk up in amusement. "Come on, Lauren, it's not scary. Besides, would you rather walk?"

The latter seemed even more appealing than the original, and as I looked into Nathan's challengingly persuasive blue eyed gaze, I caved. I reached for my backpack in the passenger seat and then took the key out of the ignition, and Nathan backed up so I could climb out. He was grinning widely as he watched me get out of the car and walk towards his metal death trap. I glanced at him and narrowed my eyes.

"Stop enjoying this so much," I commanded, but of course, it only made his grin widen.

"I told you I'd get you on my motorcycle," He says smugly.

I decided to ignore him and instead slung my bag around my back. Nathan lifts the seat and produces a helmet before turning to me and gently placing it on top of my head. Tingles shoot across my face when his fingers brush my jawline as he clips the helmet in place, but I try to ignore the overwhelming sensation.

When he's finished with the helmet, he swings one leg over the seat and turns the bike on. After a moment goes by and he realizes that I'm still standing rigidly, just staring at him and the motorcycle, and sighs. My body was tense as I eyed the metal death trap and contemplated just walking home instead.

"Come on, Collins," Nathan insists. "Just get on. I won't bite."

"You don't have a helmet?" I ask him, mostly just to delay getting on the bike, but also because I was genuinely concerned for his safety.

He glances at the one on my head. "That's my only one and I would rather you wear it. Now come on and get on the bike."

I size up the purring motorcycle in front of me before reluctantly stepping toward the seat. I carefully place one leg over it and lean back on the leather seat, careful not to touch Nathan. His chuckle made his chest vibrate, which was the only way I could tell he was laughing over the noise of the engine. 

"You're going to have to hold on," Nathan told me. "Tightly."

I bite my lip and suck it up before I lean forward. My arms slither around Nathan's waist and clasp in front of him until I'm leaning completely against his back. My legs were pressed against the back of his, my cheek firmly against his back. There wasn't a part of me that wasn't touching Nathan.

And despite the fact I was terrified of the thing I was siting on, I really, really enjoyed it. 

Nathan turns his head a little to say, "That's better," And I could hear the smirk clear as day in his voice. 

That was the last thing he said before the bike lurched forward and Nathan kicked his feet up. The momentum made me squeeze tighter and pull myself even closer to Nathan so that I didn't fall off. We began riding out of the parking lot, the wind whipping my hair around violently behind me.

Wind rushed past us, hitting my legs and cheeks, giving me a strange sensation. Before even realizing it, I had a smile on my face instead of a scowl. I looked out as the city passed by in whirls of color, the tall buildings looking beautiful as we weaved through the minimal traffic. 

I didn't realize how hard my heart was pounding in my chest until we stopped at my house and I suddenly felt it thumping violently. I unwrapped my arms from around Nathan and leaned back on the bike with a wild smile still no my lips. Nathan kicked the kick stand down and got off the bike to look at me. 

"That was incredible," I admit breathlessly as I pull the helmet off and run a hand through my surely untamed hair.

Nathan's eyes searched my face as a small smile comes onto his lips and my insides warm. When his gaze finally settles on mine, his smile widened to make it more noticeable. "I knew you'd like it."

Almost reluctantly, I climb off of his bike and hand him his helmet. I noticed his smile trade in for a smirk as he eyes me and I frown. "What?"

His smirk widens. "You have sex hair."

 blush makes its way into my cheeks as I run a hand through my hair a few times. But Nathan just laughs as he watches my futile attempts at fixing the mess of hair, and I eventually give up to shake my head. "You're an idiot."

When he's done laughing, his smirk returns as he taunts, "But you like me anyway."

You have no idea. "Whatever helps you fall asleep at night, buddy."

Nathan chuckles and mounts his bike again, but turns towards me before taking off. "I'll pick you up at seven forty five."

My brow furrowed in confusion as I ask, "What?"

"You don't have a car, remember?" Nathan says patiently. "I'll drive you to school for the rest of the week. But I'm leaving if you're not out here at seven forty five."

My heart flutters when I realize he was being thoughtful by trying to help me. And even though I could just get a ride with Cole and Luke, the idea of Nathan bringing me to school is so appealing that I don't even hesitate to accept. "Thanks Nate. I'll try to be punctual."

He turns his bike back on, the engine purring underneath him. It really was a beautiful sound. "I'll see you tomorrow, Collins."

I turned around at the sound of Nathan driving down the street and walked towards my house as the idea of a proper nap in my warm bed became overwhelmingly attractive. So I ran to my bedroom, collapsed on my bed, and was out before I could even take my shoes off.

* * *

"Damn, Justin looks good in those pants," Stephanie whistles, eyes glued to Justin in the center of the field.

I laugh. "You'd think he looks good in a trash bag."

She shrugs, glancing at me with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "So? He would."

Again, I laugh, and focus on the field. Well I try to, at least. Between the stadium full of fans hooting and hollering, it was hard to watch the game without being blindsided by offensive comments directed at both teams nearby. Seriously, these football fans were a little too aggressive, but I guess that's the price you pay when you go to a states game. Brett had told me that if they win, they'll be sectional champs and move onto the state champs game; he also told me that Waldwick was ranked the best high school football team on the East coast.

Needless to say, while we all wanted a win, we were expected to lose. It was no surprise when Waldwick scored two touchdowns in the first half, but what was surprising was the comeback we were currently making in the third quarter. Our team was currently driving down the field towards the end zone and we were five yards from picking up the first down. All the students, including myself, were wearing Littleton's black and red combination for support, rallying in the stands and cheering on our team despite the expected outcome.

My gaze followed the ball as it was snapped to Alex, the quarterback, who took a few steps back before spiraling a pass down the field to Brett. Brett caught the ball effortlessly and continued sprinting down the field, the closest defender yards away from him. I stood up in my seat in anticipation as the crowd went wild, cheering on Brett as loud as possible. A huge grin stretched across my face as he narrows in on the twenty, and then the ten, until he finally runs into the end zone.

"That was Brett!" I jumped up and down excitedly, looking at Stephanie with wide eyes. "Did you see that? That was incredible!"

Stephanie smirked as she watches me. "I bet he would be thrilled if he knew how impressed you were right now."

My excitement slows down as I frown at her. "What do you mean?"

"Seriously Lauren?" My best friend rolls her eyes at me. "It's obvious that Brett is into you."

Yup, my excitement completely vanished by now. My frown deepened as Stephanie unknowingly confirmed the theory I had tried to ignore in my head. I sank into my seat on the bleachers, no longer apart of the proud cheering fan mentality. The last thing I wanted was for my friend, who I very much like as a friend, to have a crush on me.

One sided things were so awkward and never ended well. Nathan vaguely crossed my mind and my frown deepened. We were becoming better friends and I felt like I was putting that friendship in jeopardy by liking him. And that sucked, because I really like the guy that he's turning out to be. As I sat on the cold bleached, with people screaming all around me, I came to a conclusion.

I can't like Nathan Rhodes.

"I'm sorry, Laur, I didn't mean to upset you." Stephanie sits down beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Seriously, just ignore me. I'm being an idiot."

I rest my head on her shoulder and sigh. "No, you're not. Brett texted me at midnight on New Years trying to find me."

She moved away quickly, making my head drop before I regained composure. I frowned at her but she just looked at me with wide eyes instead. "Did you kiss Brett at midnight?"

I shook my head. "No, I didn't see the message until the next morning."

"Oh, okay." Stephanie paused after a second. "Who did you kiss?"

I thought back to midnight and, even though my memory was hazy, I knew the answer to that question. It was an answer I was trying to ignore, because every time I thought about it, my stomach erupted into butterflies. And, as I just decided, I wasn't going to let myself get that excited when I thought about it. Because I can't- no, I won't- ruin our friendship.

"No one," I lie and immediately feel bad about lying to my best friend, but I knew that if I told Stephanie, then she would never shut up about me and Nathan.

But it's easier, so I do it, even though it makes me a bad person. Stephanie nods, easily accepting the information, and finally the cheering around us dies down as our team gives a punt return to the other after getting the extra point.

"Listen, don't worry about Brett." Stephanie offers with a small smile. "Things will work out the way they're supposed to."

It's a lame attempt at reconciliation but I take it anyway. "Yeah, you're right."

We continue watching the game, and it becomes so intense that my stupid thoughts from earlier escape me. I become invested in just the football game when we somehow sack the opposing teams quarterback four times, forcing them to punt the ball. Justin catches it at the thirty yard line and runs it to the forty five, where he gets tackled by a lineman. On their first down, Alex catches the ball and hands it off to Thomas, who runs two yards into a line of defense before getting pushed back.

I thought of Brett's words: Thomas is pretty shit at football. A smile formed on my lips as I happily confirmed the information, because apparently I was too starstruck by our relationship to notice it before. We eventually get another touchdown by the fourth quarter, thanks to Justin, and thats when the tension is kicked up a notch. You could feel it in the stands; Waldwick had written this off as an easy victory, but our team was doing surprisingly well, especially with their previous lack of morale.

We get the ball again at the twenty yard line, and when Alex gets the ball, he throws it to Brett. Brett catches it at the forty and