When Monday eventually rolls around, I'm less than ready to go back to school. Just the thought of seeing Jack makes my heart sink to my stomach, causing me to feel sick. How am I supposed to face Jack now that he knows everything about me, down to every depressing detail? I shudder at just the thought, wishing I had never opened up to Jack in the first place.

Then there's Lucas, whom I also seem to have messed things up with. I have the faintest memory of kissing him when I was drunk, which only makes me cringe and hate myself even more. I don't know what Lucas thought about that kiss, but I can't stop thinking that it was such a huge mistake. Before that drunken kiss, Lucas and I were nothing more than friends. Sure, we'd flirted before, but nothing had ever actually happened. Now I'm afraid that I've ruined the friendship we once had, and I'm not sure if our relationship will ever be completely restored.

I'm so nervous about running into either of the Crawford boys, I decide to stay in the front office with Elena until first bell. She doesn't seem to mind, and she even manages to lift my spirits a little. I don't know how she does it, but Elena manages to make me laugh every time I visit her, and she always has a warm smile reserved for me. She often tells me how much she likes my visits, and I can't help thinking how much I enjoy spending time with her too.

"You must have been excited about the win on Friday!" Elena exclaims when she sees me, offering a wide smile. Her brown eyes shine as they meet mine, and I can't help realizing how pretty she is. "I know your dad was!"

"I was!" I admit, trying to muster enthusiasm. I don't need Elena to catch on to my mood, because I don't need to be making any more embarrassing revelations; especially not when I'm sober. "Dad was pretty proud of the team."

"I'm sure," Elena says, swiveling around in her chair to face me. "He was always obsessed with football in high school. I can't say I was shocked when I heard he was going coach here."

"Were you and my dad close in high school?" I ask, suddenly curious. From the stories Elena likes to tell me, it's easy to see that she knew my father pretty well. But I've been wondering about their relationship a lot lately, like how they met, if they had any classes together, etc.

Elena shrugs coyly, shooting me a mysterious smile. I notice a mischievous gleam in her brown eyes as she fights back her grin, gaze meeting my own. "Something like that."

I furrow my eyebrows at Elena's vague answer, wondering what she could possibly mean by that. Before I get the chance to ask Elena to clarify, the first bell rings, startling me a little.

"Go on," Elena teases me with a smirk, gesturing toward the office door. "You don't want to be late."

I give her one last departing smile before walking out of the office, making my way through the crowded hallway. By one of the lockers, I spot Jack and Lucas talking to each other. I pause for a moment to study them, as my curiosity gets the best of me. By the looks of it, the two are in an argument. A pretty heated one, too. Deciding I definitely don't want to get caught in the middle of that, I scurry off toward my classroom, wondering just how long I'll be able to avoid the Crawford boys before shit hits the fan.

• • •

I successfully manage to avoid both Lucas and Jack for the better half of the day, which is a lot harder than it sounds. In order to avoid Lucas during second period, I sat in the back of the class. I ate lunch in the library. I practically ran through the halls so as not to be spotted by either of the two, ducking every time Lucas or Jack came into my line of sight.

It isn't until the end of the day that I (unfortunately) get caught.

I'm in the parking lot heading for my car when I hear a voice calling my name. "Morgan! Wait up!"

I turn around to find no other than Lucas flagging me down, making me feel nervous with just one look. He looks as adorable as always, his blond hair styled to perfection, the sun shining down on his silver lip ring and making it shine brightly.

"Hey," Lucas says a little breathlessly once he catches up to me. "Have you been avoiding me?"

"What?" I question, trying to sound and appear shocked, which is hard considering I'm an actress by no means. "No. What makes you think that?"

Lucas studies me so closely I feel like he's trying to memorize me. His blue eyes scan over my features before meeting mine unblinkingly, looking for some unspoken answer to his question that he'll never find in my words. Finally, he says, "I just thought maybe the kiss freaked you out." I can tell by Lucas's expression and tone that his statement has him nervous, and I instantly feel the need to reassure him.

"No!" I exclaim too quickly before he can say anything more. "It totally didn't freak me out. I mean, I kissed you, right? I was just super drunk. I don't know what I was thinking. Well, I mean, obviously I wasn't thinking, but um . . . sorry?" I'm rambling, and I sound like a total idiot. Good Lord, why did you even bother giving me a mouth?

"I'm just gonna say it," Lucas mumbles, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. He looks adorably shy as he opens his mouth to speak, and I nervously anticipate what he's about to say.

At that moment, though, my gaze wanders past Lucas's shoulder, zeroing in on Jack standing across the parking lot. I find that he's watching me and Lucas very closely, his expression hard and angry. Our gazes lock for the slightest of moments, capturing my attention and making me forget how to breathe. I force myself to look away, unable to stand the heat of Jack's stare.

"I really like you, Morgan," Lucas continues, grabbing my attention again. "I know that everything between us happened kind of fast and that maybe what happened Friday night shouldn't have, but . . . I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out sometime?"

I'm a little stunned by Lucas's words, I'm not going to lie. I take them in for a moment, digesting everything I just heard and then taking time to analyze it. If I'm hearing correctly, Lucas just admitted that he likes me. I'm not sure why, but I find this surprising. I blink, forcing my gaze up to Lucas's blue eyes. "You . . . you like me?" I repeat, needing clarification that Lucas Crawford really just said those words to me.

"I do," Lucas confirms, his lips twisting upward in a slow grin. "And I was hoping that maybe you felt the same way?"

I find that my gaze unintentionally drifts over to Jack once again, finding that he looks even angrier than before. If I'm being honest right now, I'd be lying if I said I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. As time has gone on, more memories of Friday night have surfaced. Now that I'm not intoxicated out of my mind, I can remember the details. I find myself thinking about how Jack stopped me from kissing Lucas, somehow knowing that I would end up regretting that decision. Jack taking time out of his night to drive me home when I couldn't handle myself. Jack taking me in for the night because I was too afraid to let my dad see me drunk. Jack holding my hair back for me as I puke my guts into his toilet at one in the morning. Jack hugging me because I couldn't stop crying throughout the entire night I spent with him. Jack listening to my sob story that I trusted him enough to tell. Jack helping to make me feel like I wasn't a complete loner for the first time in my life.

And I hate it. I don't want to think about Jack Crawford. I don't want to feel like I owe him. Frankly, I don't even want to be his friend. All I want is to be able to forget him. I don't want to be reminded of what I told him one night when I was drunk. I don't want to think about what he now knows about me.

What he must think of me.

So when I look back up at Lucas and force a smile as I tell him that I'd love to go out with him, I only say it because it's half true. Part of me does like Lucas. He's been kind to me since my first day here in Aster Pines, and he's incredibly cute. But the bigger, brutally honest part of me only says yes to Lucas so that Jack will have to get lost. Maybe that's petty of me, but I can't help giving in to what I want, even if my intentions are shady.

"Great!" Lucas exclaims brightly with a wide grin, his eyes shining as they stare into mine. He looks so genuinely happy in this moment, I almost feel bad. It's a hard pill to swallow, knowing that Lucas is so ecstatic that I agreed to go out with him, when I'm not even sure if I can ever see him as more than a friend. He deserves someone who will give them their full attention, their full heart. I stop my deprecating thoughts there, realizing that I could be that person to him. After all, Lucas has never wronged me. He's only been sweet and caring. A friend. And maybe with time, I'll be able to see him as more than that.

Only, I can't help thinking that I didn't tell Lucas about my past. It wasn't Lucas I trusted with my darkest secret. It wasn't Lucas who took me in when I had nowhere else to go, who held my hair back as I threw up, who dried my tears and let me cry into his arms, holding me close until I could finally fall asleep. The only person in this entire world who has claim to all of those actions is Jack Crawford, and I don't know how to feel about that.

Lucas suddenly leans down and presses a sweet kiss to my cheek, telling me he'll talk to me later. I smile and wave as he walks off, my gaze drifting back to Jack once again. I can't help wondering why I feel so torn in this moment, as if I was given two choices and I choose the wrong one. It's not like I have a reason to feel that way.

Right?

I watch as Jack storms over to me once Lucas has disappeared, and I don't bother trying to run off before he can reach me. I've been avoiding him all day, and something tells me I'm not going to be able to do that forever. Besides, I have something I need to tell Jack that I'm only going to say once, so what does it matter when I tell him?

"Hey," Jack says a little gruffly when he makes his way over, looking down at me as our gazes lock. My knees go a little weak as my eyes meet his, as it seems I've forgotten just how good-looking Jack Crawford is. Staring up at him now, I can't help seeing exactly why all the girls around here go crazy for him.

Snap out of it, Morgan.

"Hey," I greet Jack indifferently, trying to keep any and all emotion out of my tone. Maybe if I practice being short with him, Jack will get the hint that I don't want anything to do with him.

Jack rests his hands in his pockets, just as his cousin had done before him. He looks down at me with this weird gleam in his that I can't quite read, studying me in silence. I can't help letting out a huff of annoyance. I just want to go home, to be able to escape this mess I've made.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm here for you, Scott," Jack murmurs softly, the words barely audible. I'm taken aback, as that is so not what I thought Jack was going to say to me. "I know you must be hurting. If anything ever seems too much for you, or if you just need someone to talk to, I'm here."

I pause, processing his words. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, racing in overtime. Something like butterflies flutters in my stomach. For some reason, my knees begin to feel a little weak. Whether Jack knows it or not, those are the sweetest words a boy has ever said to me before.

Then I remember exactly what I told him Friday night. Exactly what he knows about me. What he must think of me. Suddenly, I'm no longer feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"Thanks," I mumble, unable to meet Jack's gaze. "But I don't need a pity friend, Crawford. I'm fine. I don't even know why I told you all of that stuff anyway. I was just drunk. You don't have to worry about me. Besides, I'm with Lucas now, so . . ." I trail off, hoping he'll take my hint.

Jack flinches, a crease forming between his eyebrows as a confused expression seeps onto his features. "What?" he questions, sounding slightly stunned. "You're with Lucas now?"

"Yes," I snap, glaring at Jack as annoyance spreads through my chest. "I know you don't like him, Jack, but I'm not really asking for your permission."

"Damn, Scott," Jack says, his voice cracking slightly when he utters my last name. "If you want to go out with him, that's on you. I was just asking. I guess I just didn't know Lucas was your type."

I forget that I'm not supposed to look at him and meet Jack's gaze, crossing my arms over my chest as I narrow my eyes at him. "What do you mean you didn't know he was my type? What's wrong with Lucas?"

"I dunno," Jack mumbles, looking at the ground instead of me as he speaks. "He's just kinda . . . moody, you know? He always has a problem with something. He just . . ." Jack trails off, looking up as he clears his throat. His features are tight and he looks a little pained as he says, "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm happy for you. Both of you."

I stiffen, pressing my lips together. Why does he have to make it so hard to hate him? Why can't he just be a terrible person? Why does he have to be such a perfect freaking golden boy? It's not fair.

"Thanks," I choke out. I tuck my hair behind my ear shyly, wondering what to do now. Do I just leave? Do I say bye? Do I tell him to get lost? What do I do?

"I'm serious though, Morgan," Jack adds. His green-eyed gaze meets mine with that weird intensity again, sending shivers down my spine. Morgan, I can't help thinking. He called me Morgan. I shiver again as I think about how good my name sounded coming off of his lips, how close he's standing to me right now. "If you ever need to talk, or . . ." Jack trails off, shrugging as his eyes drift between the both of mine. I can't stop myself from realizing how hot he looks in this moment, staring down at me as if he truly understands and cares about my feelings and me in general.

In a moment of thoughtless spontaneity, I find my feet unintentionally taking a step closer to him. I find myself wanting this space between us to be nonexistent. I want his lips on mine. I want his hands in my hair. I want to know what it would be like to kiss Jack Crawford. I want to know how lucky Lacey must have felt when she was his.

A look of understanding flashes through Jack's green eyes, like he knows what I'm thinking and he's thinking it too. I've never had someone look at me the way Jack is looking at me now, as if he can see past all of my walls and scars and broken pieces and straight through to my tarnished heart. And even though he can see that I'm worn and battered, it's as if Jack doesn't care. In this moment, it's as if my past and imperfections make Jack understand and want me all that much more. The thought is scary and exhilarating all at once, taking me over and filling me to the brim.

Jack steps toward me, reaching a hand out slowly. His fingertips graze my elbow, skin on skin. His touch sends a current of emotion and electricity through me, infiltrating my veins and coursing throughout my body.

And that's all it takes to make me snap out of it.

I jerk away from his touch, taking a few steps backwards. I don't know what we're doing or what I'm thinking, but I do know that it needs to stop. I don't like Jack. I can't like Jack. I will never like Jack. I'm being absolutely pathetic.

"I was being serious, too," I hiss, suddenly angry. Angry at Jack for being so good and making it so impossible to hate him. Angry at myself for telling him about Mom and wanting Jack Crawford in a way I can't have him. Angry because I'm about to hurt Jack and I know it, yet I'm not going to stop. "I don't need your pity, Jack."

"I don't have any pity!" Jack defends himself, trying to take a step toward me. I stop him by opening my car door, setting a barrier between the two of us. Lord only knows what would happen if Jack were to touch me again, to light up my soul with his burning touch. "Morgan, I—"

"Save it, Jack," I snap, cutting him off. Jack blinks, clearly taken aback by my sudden outburst. I can't put into words how terrible it makes me feel to treat him this way, especially after all Jack has done for me recently. But I can't go on like this, wanting him when I know I can't have him. I agreed to go out with Lucas, which means I need to put whatever this is between Jack and I to an end. For good.

Without another word, I fall into the driver's seat of my car, peeling out of my parking space before I can think better of it. I don't glance at Jack again. I don't want to see his hurt expression or the dullness to his normally bright eyes. I don't want to see him pained and all because of me. I just don't want to see him, period.

Tears come to my eyes as I drive, and I feel so bad for what I just did it's not even funny. I just . . . there's no way I can possibly be friends with Jack anymore. Not in the slightest. I ruined it. I had to tell him about . . . everything. He was nothing but sweet to me, too. Why do I have to be this way? When people start to get close, why do I always have to push them away?

Deep down, I think I know the answer to that question. Above everything else, I'm afraid. I'm afraid to let people into my life because you never know how long people will stay with you. You never know when they'll leave you and never come back.

And I just don't think I can put myself through that kind of pain again.