"I don't have anything to wear!" I cry into my phone, frustrated. It's seven-oh-eight P.M. on the dot, and I'm still trying to get ready for my date with Jack. It seems that every outfit I look at simply won't do, and it's safe to say I've begun to panic. Normally I don't care too much about my appearance, only I kind of want to look nice for my first official date with Jack.

I'm on the phone with Lana—who has been on an actual date before—standing in front of my closet, realizing that my usual sweatshirts and jeans aren't going to cut it tonight.

"Calm down, Morgan," Lana tells me with a laugh, sounding much less concerned than I am. "I'm sure you'll be able to make something work. Besides, it's just a date. You don't have to look perfect. Jack already likes you for you."

I know Lana means for her words to be reassuring, and yet they seem to have the opposite effect. "Yes, I do!" I hear myself snap as I drop t-shirt after t-shirt to the floor, shuffling through my closet. "Jack has seen me in sweatshirts and he's seen me all dressed up for homecoming. I have to meet somewhere in the middle of that!"

"Do you know where he's taking you?" Lana asks thoughtfully. "If it's somewhere nice, you could always wear your homecoming dress."

"Absolutely not!" I kick aside a pair of sneakers as I disagree with Lana, rummaging around the back of my closet. "I doubt Jack would take me somewhere formal. Besides, he's already seen me in that."

"Okay, okay. Jeez." Lana sighs on the other line, and I feel a little bad for taking out my frustrations on her. Then again, she could always just hang up on me if I become too much to deal with. If I were in her place, I'd understand. "Just wear something cute, then. It doesn't have to be dressy."

"I don't own anything cute!" I tell Lana in my frenzy. "Up until now, I don't think boys have ever even paid attention to me."

"That is so not true," Lana counters with a snort. "Don't you remember Kyler hitting on you your first day? And you had both Lucas and Jack Crawford crushing on you. I could write a list of boys that drool over you. Face it, Morgan. You're hot whether no matter what you wear."

Lana's words make me feel better, though I don't believe them for a second. It's a best friend's job to comfort the other in times of need, even if they have to tell a few little white lies. Which is obviously what Lana is doing now.

"Thanks, Lana. But that's not true."

Lana groans, and I just know that she's rolling her eyes at me. "Sometimes you're impossible! Would I lie to you?"

"Well, I would hope not. Even though you are right now."

"You're being annoying. Don't make me hang up on you."

"Not if I hang up first!" I tease, smirking to myself. "Bye! Love you!"

With that, I hang up the phone, as I seriously need to get dressed if I'm going to be ready for this date by the time Jack gets here. I continue to toss items out of my closet, trying to reach the back where I keep the clothes I never wear. Hopefully I'll be able to find something fitting. If not, I might take Lana's advice and seriously wear my homecoming dress. It's the only decent thing I own.

After what feels like an eternity, I'm able to piece together an ensemble that isn't terrible. In the back of my closet, I found a cropped light gray top that's a little snug from little use, but fits well enough. I pair it with ripped black jeans and white converses, which is about as dressy as I get. Then I storm into my bathroom to put together the rest of me, which takes longer than it should. My hair is fine, as I just leave it down in it's golden waves. It's my face that needs the real work.

I don't often wear much makeup, so it takes me a while to figure out how to make myself look better and not worse with the products. When I finish with my look, I'm pleased enough with how it turns out, knowing it's not going to get much better than what I've already accomplished.

The moment I go to leave my room, I hear Jack's car pull into my driveway. At the same time, my phone chimes with an incoming FaceTime call from Lana.

"Let me see your look," Lana demands the instant I accept the call. "I'll give you my verdict."

I turn my camera to face the rear, panning over my mirror so Lana can observe my outfit. "Is this okay?" I ask her as I do so, glancing out of my window, counting down the seconds for Jack to reach my front door. I had no clue getting ready for a date would be so stressful. I'm already out of it, and I haven't even gone on the date yet. Why do so many people do this to themselves? I don't get it.

"You look great!" Lana assures me, sounding genuine. With a laugh, she teases, "Now go get your man before he goes back to Lacey!"

"Gee," I scoff, turning the camera back around so Lana can see me rolling my eyes. "Thanks."

"My pleasure. Bye!"

I go to say something to Lana, but before I can get a word out my screen flashes with the notification that Lana has hung up, getting revenge for when I hung up on her earlier. I smile to myself as I shove my phone into my back pocket, bounding down the stairs in record time. I've just entered the living room when the doorbell rings, crying to my dad, "I'll get it!"

"Why don't you invite him in?" Dad suggests as I rush past him on my way to the door. "I want to have a little talk with Jack before you two head out."

"No way!" I retort, smirking at my dad over my shoulder. I take a deep breath before I open the front door, wondering why I'm so nervous. I mean, Jack and I have already established that we both like each other. Maybe it's the fact that I've never really done this kind of thing before that has my nerves spiking. Or maybe it's the thought that Jack is standing right outside of my door.

With the latter thought, I realize I should probably open the door for him. I paint a smile across my lips as I toss open the front door, coming face-to-face with Jack. He looks good, which is typical. He's not dressed up or anything, however, simply wearing a black hoodie and jeans. It's refreshing to see that I chose an okay outfit, though I realize all that stressing-out I did was over nothing.

"Hey," Jack says as our gazes meet, a smile taking over his features. "You look great, Scott."

"Thanks," I reply, leaning against the door frame as if I'm not nervous at all. "So do you. Hey, I mean." I blush when I think about my last sentence, realizing it made no sense. "I mean, you look good hey. Wait. No. I meant you look good, too. Not you look good hey. That makes no sense. Am I rambling? I feel like I'm rambling." By now, my cheeks are flaming. My lips keep moving, yet I have no idea what on earth I'm saying.

Jack's eyebrows furrow as he watches me make a fool of myself, a teasing glint shining in his green eyes. There's a faint smirk on his lips that widens as he listens to my nonsense, and I know instantly that he can tell I'm nervous.

"You okay, Scott?" Jack questions, cocking an eyebrow. I don't know why my heart is pounding so hard or why I suddenly feel like I can't breathe. I have to constantly remind myself that I have nothing to be nervous over, yet it doesn't seem to be working.

I flash what I hope is a reassuring smile as I stutter, "I'm fine."

"It's just a date," Jack whispers as he leans in close to my ear, his lips brushing my skin and his breath warm on my neck. "We're not getting married."

"I know." I straighten as I face Jack, trying to seem poised and composed and not as flustered as I really am. "I'm not nervous."

Jack smirks at me as he questions, "Who said anything about being nervous?"

My face flames, realizing I've succeeded in making myself look completely stupid. I take a few steps back to make room for Jack to enter my house as I say, "Why don't you come on in? My dad wants to have a talk with you."

With that, Jack doesn't seem so keen on smirking anymore. The right is mine as Jack slowly shuffles into my house, appearing as if talking with my father is the last thing he wants to be doing right now.

And just like that, I'm not quite so nervous anymore.

• • •

Jack parks his car in front of a local diner, which isn't the venue I'd been expecting for our first date. Then again, I hadn't really been expecting anything in particular. I'm sure Jack has his reasons for choosing this place, so I'm not disappointed or anything. Just . . . pleasantly surprised.

Jack steps out of the car and walks around the front to open the passenger door for me, which is sweet of him. I grin as he opens the door to the diner for me, also, commenting as I enter the restaurant, "Such the gentleman tonight."

"Hey. I'm always a gentleman," Jack corrects me. Though the remark is playful enough, I suddenly notice how flat Jack's voice sounds. His usual teasing gleam has disappeared from his gaze, too, which worries me slightly. For just the smallest of seconds, I wonder if Jack brought me here to end things between us. Which would really hurt, considering we've only just started going on and I like him more than I ever thought I could like someone.

I follow Jack through the diner, as he seems to know his way around. He walks with purpose toward the opposite side of the restaurant, taking a seat at one of the small booths next to the largest window in the diner. I take the seat across from him, studying Jack closely, wondering why he suddenly seems to be so guarded and closed off. Although we haven't been dating very long, I'd like to think that I know Jack's character pretty well by now. And—if I know him even half as well as I think I do—I can tell that there's definitely something up with him. He seemed fine when he arrived at my house. But now that I think about it, he was oddly silent on the ride here.

Before I'm able to ask him what's on his mind, a waitress appears to take our orders. Jack decides on a burger and chocolate shake, while I stick with tomato soup and a grilled cheese with sweet tea. For some reason, knowing that there's something bothering Jack has ruined my appetite.

Surprising me, Jack suddenly takes my hand in his. He runs circles over my skin with his thumb before ceasing the rotation, his gaze locking with mine. His expression is somber, which tells me he's not in a playful mood. In this moment, Jack looks as he did when he let me cry on his shoulder after I told him about my mother what feels like no long ago. He's the same Jack who took me in when I was drunk and had nowhere else to go.

"I have a lot of things I need to tell you," Jack says abruptly, his voice breaking through my thoughts. "So I guess I might as well just put it all out there." Jack hesitates for the slightest moment, sucking in a shaky breath. "I thought about you a lot after the first time we met, Morgan. It was like you consumed all of my thoughts, and I just couldn't shake you. I still don't know how you did that, Scott, but I think part of me fell for you before I even got to know how amazing you are."

"Jack—" I shake my head, wanting to reassure him that he shouldn't feel obligated to say things like that to me. Because I don't want our relationship to be based on clichés and either of us saying things we feel the other would want to hear. I want to be able to be real with him, and I want him to know that.

Before I can voice these thoughts, however, Jack stops me short.

"I never thought I was going to be lucky enough to get to know you," Jack continues, eyes focused solely on mine, soft and full of adoration. "You seemed like you wanted nothing to do with me. It was kind of confusing, actually, the way you would pull me in only to push me back out. And maybe you feel bad about that now, but I think that might have been what made you so alluring to me. This is probably going to sound really arrogant, but nobody has ever not wanted something to do with me. Most people around here hear the name Crawford and think about my family's influence and what I could do for them, and then they're smothering me. But you didn't seem to care about who my family is or what my last name was or even about me at all, really. And that's what made me feel this strange urge that made me want to make you like me. Because, with you, everything would be a fresh start. You didn't care about the superficial things. If I could get through to you, it would mean that you liked me for me." Jack pauses to release a husky laugh that sends goosebumps down my skin in a a good way.

Smiling faintly, he continues, "And then I get to this party one night, and you just happen to be there too. And then you get wasted and start making out with Lucas, and I just . . . couldn't let that happen. I had no clue how you felt about my cousin, but I just had this feeling that you wouldn't be making out with him if you were sober. So I wanted to help you out, just in case I was right and you would regret that decision later."

Jack's words warm my heart. I don't remember much about the night of the party, which is due to my reckless drinking. Though I do know that Jack's intentions and gut feeling was right on point. At that time, I did have a small crush on Lucas. But there's no way on this planet that I would have kissed him the way I did that night if I had been sober. That's just not me. And, deep down, I'm glad that Jack interfered. Who knows what I might have allowed to happen if he hadn't?

"The next thing I knew, you were a crying mess in my car, going on about how you didn't want your dad to see you so out of it. So I brought you back to my place. I wasn't expecting what happened next to take place at all, but it did." Jack takes another deep breath, and for a second I'm almost worried about what he's going to say next. He just seems so serious, which isn't exactly a good sign.

"You trusted me with so much that night, Morgan," Jack murmurs softly, squeezing my hand comfortingly. He's gazing at me so intently, I begin to wonder if he can see into my soul. "I've been thinking about ways I can show you how much your trust means to me. I want you to know as much about me as you've shared with me about yourself, and that's why I picked this place for our first date."

I raise an eyebrow at Jack's statement, wondering what that means. A chill runs through the air as the diner door opens, revealing a man and woman who take a seat at the counter. The air smells of cinnamon and other sweets, a calming aroma. An old tune drifts from the jukebox in the corner, the song shifting just as our waitress returns with our orders, momentarily halting further conversation. And despite all of this going on, I can't seem to focus on anything but Jack as I ask, "What do you mean?"

"You told me your life's story." Although Jack smiles as he says the words, it's not his usual warm grin that makes me weak in the knees. This smile is almost sad, just hardly above a frown. "So I want to give you mine."

"Jack," I start to counter, shaking my head. "You don't have to do that. You don't have to tell my anything you—"

"I want to, Morgan," Jack assures me, his gaze tender on mine. "I want us to start things on an even playing field. It doesn't seem right to me that I know so much about you, and you only know generic shit about me. I trust you. I want you to trust me."

"I do," I tell Jack softly, squeezing his hand. "You know that."

"Then I want you to trust me more," Jack teases, his smile widening ever so slightly. "So, I guess here goes." Jack looks around the diner momentarily, almost nervously. I wait patiently for him to continue whenever he feels ready to do so. I'm not sure what he's about to say, but I don't want to rush him when I know whatever he's about to share, it's going to be personal.

"My parents met at this very diner," Jack says in a low tone, gesturing around with his hand. "They sat in this exact seat, too, which is why I wanted to bring you here. They met back in the eighties, and the whole thing was kind of a coincidence. My mom was originally from Brooklyn, and she was visiting Aster Pines because her flight home from Florida got delayed. It was raining and she didn't have anywhere else to go, so she came to this diner for shelter. She sat in the same seat you're sitting now, because she said she liked looking out the window. She said it was like looking through the glass and into her future. And just seconds after she took her seat, she saw my dad standing outside of the window."

I can't help but smile as Jack tells the story. It's sweet, the kind of love story that people makes movies about. Though I can tell by the way Jack goes to continue that the story isn't quite over yet, and by the shadow in his gaze I'm not sure if this story will have a happy ending.

"So, one thing led to another, and my parents eventually started to date. They rushed into things pretty quickly, but my parents always say that was because they knew the second they laid eyes on each other that they'd found The One for them. Mom moved here from Brooklyn, which her parents hated. She moved into an apartment with my dad, and they started the beginning of their life together. My dad started his company, which was really small at the time, but started to make money after a few months. Only a year later my parents were married, and my dad's company really started to take off. Before they knew it, my mom was pregnant with me."

Jack's expression changes from one of tranquility to pained within seconds. It's almost confusing to me, as so far the story sounds nothing but happy. The kind of past I wish I could have. Thinking about it, it's the past I did have, until my mom passed away.

"When I was three, my mom got pregnant again. By this time my dad's company was off the ground, and my parents were getting their name out there. More than anything, though, they were happy. We were happy." Jack's features tighten and cloud, and I feel in my heart that his story is about to take a turn. I almost want to ask him to stop here, to cover my ears so that I don't have to hear the rest. Up until now, I hadn't even suspected that tragedy had ever touched the Crawford family. I merely assumed that Jack was the perfect golden boy. I should have known that nothing is ever as it seems.

"Mom gave birth to a girl, which made me an older brother. My parents chose the name Haleigh. We were always close as a family. Haleigh was like this light that shone on our family and instantly made everything brighter. No matter what, she was always able to make anyone smile. She had Mom's golden hair and Dad's blue eyes, and everyone couldn't help but love her." Jack pauses for a moment, a conflicted gleam shining in his eyes. I take notice of the way he uses the past tense to describe his sister, and my heart drops to my stomach.

Swallowing hard, Jack's jaw is tense as he says, "And then the accident happened. Mom was driving Haleigh home from soccer practice one day, and she got hit by another car. T-boned right on the side of the car Haleigh had been sitting. She died on impact."

Jack's light green eyes fill with tears,