"Another game won by the famous Jack Crawford," I tease with a smile as Jack walks toward where I'm standing by the edge of the bleachers, right next to the field gate. Night has since fallen as the football game has come to an end, and most of the spectators have began to head home. Though here I am, the last to leave—per usual.

"It wasn't all me," Jack clarifies as he approaches me, rolling his eyes. I notice the way he's smirking, which tells me he's at least slightly flattered by my praise. "I play with a team, you know."

"Well." I wrap my arms around his neck before I give myself a chance to finish my sentence, grinning up at him. The street lights offer a faint glow that surrounds the darkness of the bleachers, as if a spotlight is beaming down on us. The air smells of freshly mowed grass and popcorn from the concession stand. It's near completely silent around me and Jack, as we're the only two in this section of the seating area. "I was only watching you."

"And I could only hear you," Jack remarks, referencing how embarrassingly enthusiastic I can become while watching football games and totally ruining the moment. I can feel my cheeks beginning to flush, and Jack laughs at my visible discomfort. "I'm only teasing you, Scott," Jack murmurs, reaching a hand up to my cheek and brushing stray strands of hair behind my ear lightly. "Besides, it's cute that my girl cares so much."

Involuntarily, I find myself smiling at Jack's words, though my blush doesn't stray or fade. It's moments like these that I wish I could press pause on, to live in forever. That wouldn't be a bad way to spend eternity, not with Jack by my side, always there to make me smile.

"So," Jack murmurs after pressing a soft kiss to my lips, wrapping my hand in his. "There's this party going on tonight, and I was wondering if you'd maybe want to go?"

Jack knows as well as I do that parties aren't quite my forte. Especially considering what ended up happening after the last party I went to. But I'm not entirely opposed to going to another, because even the last party I'd gone to hadn't been completely terrible. Besides, I'd get to spend more time with Jack, and I know that he wants to get to celebrate his victory with his friends tonight.

"If you want too," I agree after thinking it over for a moment. "I guess I wouldn't mind. As long as you're driving, that is."

"Of course." Jack's light green eyes gleam brightly as they flicker down to mine, and I take notice of the mischievous glint in his irises immediately. "Besides, we both know I'm the better driver between the two of us."

"Oh, shut up." I shove Jack's shoulder as I roll my hazel eyes, biting back a smile. "I'm not that bad at it. Plus, my car is way cooler than yours. Technically, that should make me a better driver by default."

"Ouch." Jack mocks a wince, pouting as he puts on a show of being wounded for my amusement. "You don't think my Acura is cool, Scott?"

"As riveting as this conversation is, we don't have time for it, Crawford. You wanna go to that party or what?"

"All right, all right." The skin around Jack's eyes crinkles as he smiles, showing off his dimples. "You sure know how to change a subject, don't you?"

I shrug, feigning innocence as I tilt my head up toward Jack's. "It's one of my many talents. But I'm sure you already know how amazing I am, so I won't bore you with the details."

"Damn right I do," Jack murmurs back with a smirk, our stares locking. The more time I spend with him, the more I become accustomed to Jack's flirtatious yet mocking personality. And as long as I'm the only person on the other end of his endearing sarcastic remarks, I wouldn't have it any other way.

As Jack gazes down at me almost wistfully, it's not hard to feel as amazing as I had jokingly claimed to be, and that's all thanks to him.

• • •

I haven't been to very many parties in my lifetime, but I think it's safe for me to assume they're all almost exactly the same in nature. The moment I enter the house tonight's party is being held—I'm not familiar with the owner—I feel a sense of déjà vu hit me, taking me back to the last party I attended. This gathering is just as loud and crowded as the last had been, instantly giving me a headache and causing me to feel cramped.

In the kitchen, I spot a handful of teens rounding a table, pouring drinks into red solo cups and breaking into smaller groups to chat. The living room is scattered with people, standing around and talking or sitting on their phones. A couple exaggeratedly makes out on the couch, making the girl sitting next to them visibly uncomfortable. The scene causes me to feel a little anxious, though Jack's presence by my side is comforting.

"You gonna get wasted this time, Scott?" Jack teasingly whispers in my ear as we weave our way through the living room, his breath warm as it fans my neck.

"Depends. Are you gonna pull me off of some guy I'm kissing, Crawford?"

"Not if I'm the guy you're kissing," Jack retorts, seemingly satisfied with his response. "Which I better be, or else we might have some trouble."

Jack then slips his hand into mine, his grip warm and protective. He leads me through the living room and toward the crowded kitchen, stopping only when we reach the counter littered with different kinds of soda and alcohol. Jack first pours himself a little soda into a red solo cup, and I'm not entirely sure why I'm surprised to find him not reach for any of the alcohol choices.

Reading my expression, Jack shrugs as he says, "What? I'm driving."

He proceeds to offer me my own cup of Coca Cola, which I accept with a small thanks. Besides Jack, I don't recognize too many of the other guests. There are a few familiar faces, though I don't know anyone well. I know for a fact that Lana isn't here tonight, as she opted to stay home and study for her chem test.

"I see the guys," Jack murmurs, gesturing to the corner of the room and pointing out a handful of his football teammates. "You wanna go say hi?"

"That's okay," I say to Jack with an understanding smile. I know that Jack wanted to stop by this party to be with his friends, and I've never wanted to be the kind of girlfriend that takes over every aspect of her partner's life. Jack can go talk to his friends without my presence hovering around him, just as he allows me to with my friends. "You go on ahead. We can catch up later. I'll be fine."

Jack studies me closely for a long moment with calculating eyes, expression thoughtful. I know he's thinking about the last time I was left alone at a party, and the events that led up to him having to take care of me. Only, what Jack doesn't know is that it was his presence at said party that drove me to get so wasted and act out. Now that I don't have to pretend I don't have feelings for Jack, I doubt I'm going to go out of my mind trying to cover them up.

Sensing his hesitation, I urge, "Seriously, Jack. Go talk to your friends. I'll be here when you get back."

"Okay," Jack agrees after another few seconds of unsure silence. "Don't go anywhere, Scott. I'll be two minutes."

I jokingly turn my phone on so that the time is showing as I wave it in the air, teasing, "Then you better get going. The clock is ticking."

Jack presses a warm kiss to my forehead before pulling away, walking over to his friends once he finally manages to turn his back to me. I watch him smile and laugh with his teammates for a few moments before whirling on my heel, deciding to find someone to talk to myself. After all, there's no point in standing in the kitchen alone when there are so many people crowding the place.

I slip into the next room, deciding I can easily find Jack later. Minutes fly before I know it, the time slipping my mind completely as I strike up conversation with a blonde I run into in the living room. She tells me that her name is Carrie, and she lives in the next town over. She's pleasant, with kind blue eyes and a warm smile. Jack played her town's football team tonight, and it isn't long before the two of us are laughing over a moment that took place where one of the mascot's heads fell onto the ground and a player from her team mistook it for the ball. They even had the mask sailing over the field goal, only to realize their point didn't count. It was pretty pathetic, though still makes for a good story to laugh over.

When I glance at the time, I'm shocked to find that over half an hour has passed. I excuse myself from Carrie, telling her that I'm going to go catch up with my boyfriend. She merely smiles and assures me that we'll have to meet up some other time, and with that I slip back into the kitchen. By this point, Jack and his friends have relocated somewhere, and I'm getting pretty tired. I'm wandering around the house as I look for Jack when I somehow manage to stumble, tripping over my own feet and hitting my head as I ram into something hard.

"Ouch," I mumble under my breath, rubbing my forehead tenderly in the spot that's begun to throb.

"Ouch yourself," the thing I ran into mutters in response, startling me. Once my vision clears, I find that the thing I ran into is really a person, and that person is no other than Lacey Hanson herself. As in, Jack's ex-girlfriend Lacey.

Lacey sneers as she glares at me in disgust, her blue eyes icy on mine. There isn't a doubt in my mind that she hates me, and I have to admit that I don't much care for her, either. Still, I'm not in the mood for any sort of fight, especially with Lacey. I'm thinking about trying to brush past her, when suddenly Lacey parts her red-painted lips and begins to speak.

"Oh," she murmurs in a nasally tone, her gaze trailing me up and down. "It's you."

"Have you forgotten my name already?" I ask with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood and send Lacey the message that I'm not here to bicker with her.

"Of course not." Lacey crosses her arms over her chest, one of her hips jutting to the side as she continues to stare me down. "How could I forget the name of the girl who stole my boyfriend?"

"I didn't steal your boyfriend, Lacey," I scoff, suddenly a little frustrated. I'm not sure why Lacey has to insist that I stole Jack from her. That's not only implying that Jack is nothing but a mere object for anyone's taking, but also that Lacey owned him. In reality, Jack is a living, breathing person, free to make his own decisions and go out with whomever he wants to. "You two broke up. Jack and I didn't start dating until after that."

Lacey narrows her blue eyes as they remain fixated on me, her lips curling into a snarl. For such a beautiful girl, she appears startlingly evil in this moment. Her red-painted acrylic nails practically cut into her palms as she clenches her fists, standing so close to me she's nearly in my face. Seemingly realizing how angered she looks, Lacey exhales sharply and takes a small step back from me. She then tosses a few locks of pin-straight blond hair over her shoulder, smoothing down the skirt of her black dress. When she finally meets my gaze again, Lacey regards me coldly.

"Right," she snaps, pursing her red lips together into a thin line. "Jack and I broke up. And you didn't steal him from me at all. Is that right, Morgan?"

"Um." I'm getting the feeling that no matter what I say, it's not going to be "right" to Lacey. Frankly, I'm also beginning to feel nervous. I think Lacey tends to have that effect on people. And I'm positive that she knows it. "Right?"

"You think you're so above me, don't you?" Lacey hisses in a low tone, as if she doesn't want anyone around us to overhear. "And you try to play it off like you're such a nice, innocent girl. Well, I'm not buying your pathetic little act. Newsflash, Morgan, I know what you did."

With every word that leaves Lacey's lips, I pass the point of confusion. I have no idea what she's going on about, or what she could possibly "know" that I did. As far as I'm concerned, I haven't done much of anything to make her lash out like this, expect possibly date Jack.

Furrowing my eyebrows to reveal my puzzlement, I shake my head as I ask, "What do you mean?"

"You claim to have never cheated on Lucas, right? That Jack never cheated on me? Then you have a lot of explaining to do. I know about Jack taking you to his place the night of the last party you went to."

Lacey's glaring at me like she thinks she's really on to something. Thankfully, I can explain what happened that night. Easily. Because nothing did happen between Jack and I, unless you count me sobbing as I poured my whole life's story to him as alcohol bubbled in my veins and twisted my inhibition. Not that I owe Lacey an explanation in the first place. She and Jack are done, and she has no right to include herself in my business.

"Nothing happened between us that night," I assure Lacey. "I just got drunk at the party, and Jack was being a good friend. He took me in for the night, but we didn't do anything."

With a snort, Lacey mumbles, "Like I believe that." Glare intensifying, Lacey seethes, "But let's pretend like you're telling the truth and nothing happened between you and Jack that night. I know everything, Morgan. You never cheated on Lucas? Then what do you have to say about kissing Jack—my boyfriend at the time—at homecoming?" Lacey's voice is shrill and her tone is snarky as she hurls accusations at my face, her own cheeks beginning to flush red.

I'm taken aback. I had no clue Lacey knew about the homecoming kiss I shared with Jack, though I shouldn't be surprised that she found out about it. More than that, though, I never thought that I would feel so guilty about that kiss. But now, as I'm being confronted by the girl Jack was dating when it happened, there's no other word to describe what I'm feeling. At the time, that kiss didn't seem like such a big deal. I liked Jack and Jack liked me, and we were kissing. But thinking back on it, what we did was more than wrong. It never should have happened. Jack was with Lacey, and I was with Lucas. I should have thought about how badly it might end up hurting Lucas and Lacey if they ever found out. I feel guilty and terrible, but I'm smart enough to know Lacey wouldn't believe me even if I could somehow convince her of that.

Blindsided, I find myself stuttering, "How do you even know about that?"

"When you're dating Jack Crawford"—Lacey pauses to shoot me a stern glance, as if she thinks I don't fully understand her words—"you have to keep an eye on him. Do you know how important the Crawford's are to this town? Do you know how many girls would kill to be with him?"

"Look, Lacey," I interfere before she can go on any further, feeling a strong urge to apologize. Sure, Lacey's not the nicest girl in the world. And maybe we don't get along. But at the end of the day, Lacey has never done anything to cross me. In actuality, it's the other way around. I kissed her boyfriend behind her back, which hurt her. I never thought I would find myself in this position, yet here I am all the same. I dug my own grave, and I have to take responsibility for the mistake that landed me in it. "I'm sorry I kissed Jack that night. It was so, so, so wrong of me. I should have never done that to you. And if I hurt you for it, I'm sorry."

Lacey sniffs, still appearing repulsed by my presence. With her hands on her hips, she takes a step toward me, glowering. "You're not as innocent and sweet as you want everyone to think you are, Morgan Scott," Lacey practically spits at me. Staring into my eyes, it's like Lacey can see right through me and straight into the depths of my soul. Sometimes when Jack looks at me, it feels like he's doing the same thing. But when Jack does, it's comforting. As if he can see the bitter and broken parts deep within me and still accept me for them. But when Lacey glares at me as if she can see through me, it's like she can see my secrets and despises me for them. It makes me feel dirty. Guilty. Unworthy. And I hate it.

"I'm going to make sure everyone knows that. And whatever you think you have with Jack? I doubt it's real. I mean, look at you and then look at me. What kind of guy dumps someone like me for someone like you? It just doesn't make sense. I know you have to be thinking the same thing. Whatever secrets you're hiding, Morgan? I'm going to make sure everybody knows about them. You don't deserve Jack, and both of us know it. So either break up with him and give back what's rightfully mine, or pay the price."

Smirking at the shocked expression that registers on my face, Lacey turns away from me and toward the hall mirror behind her as she pulls out a lipstick compact. I watch, unable to do anything else, as Lacey applies a fresh coat of bright red coloring to her lips. Puckering her plump lips and blowing me a kiss, Lacey offers me a wide smile, as if what just went down between us has already slipped her mind and we're the best of friends. With two air-kisses to each of my cheeks, Lacey chirps, "Bye!" Then she sashays off to God knows where, leaving me feeling baffled and alone.

Staring at Lacey's receding form, it dawns on me that I was just threatened.