Sophia's POV

"Um, excuse me, but who was that hottie standing in your driveway?" Britt asks as she looks into the hallway mirror, flipping her blonde hair around.

"Seriously, Fee," Allison adds as she reapplies her clear lip gloss. "Can we talk about that body? Is he like your pool boy or something?"

I can't take these two sometimes.

"He's just a friend," I tell them. I don't want to completely lie, but I also don't want to tell them the whole truth about Noah. I'd never hear the end of it if I did.

"A friend? From where? Last I checked, we have the same friends. And, believe me, I'd remember that fine piece of ass anywhere."

"Guys, stop!" I shriek. "He's a friend of my cousin's from Charleston. And, he's just visiting for a few days."

"At least tell me you made out with him," Britt says, and I don't answer. Luckily, Jacob comes downstairs, and his timing couldn't be more perfect.

"Ladies," he begins, "on a scale of 1 — 10, how much did you miss me?"

"If we change the scale to negative numbers, I can give you a better answer," Allison grins, and I can't help but giggle.

"Laugh now, but don't get jealous when you see Tiffany Marshall throwing herself at me later today."

"I'll try not to."

"Okay, guys, let's get a move on it, shall we?" I interrupt. "Jacob, you sure you don't want to ride with us?"

"I'm sure. Bradley's coming to get me soon. The boys and I are going to pregame here before Ben's."

"Okay, just..."

"...watch the drinking. I know the drill, Fee."

***

Some things never change. Ben's party is exactly what it always is. Drunk girls and even drunker guys acting like complete idiots. It's funny; the parties in Charleston were pretty much the same — the houses were just as big and the alcoholic options were just as endless — but the people here are so much snottier and think they're too good for anyone outside of their world. Maybe Noah was right. Maybe we do have a kind.

Allison and Britt run over to Ben's two single friends, who they've been trying to get with since the beginning of summer, but I stay put.

A few seconds later, I spot Ben standing a few feet away. He's talking to some girl and holding a Stella Artois in his hand. He locks eyes with me and before I know it, he's making his way over to me.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Connecticut in the flesh," he says, opening his arms wide before bringing me into a hug. He used to call me that when we were together. He said if I ever entered the Miss USA beauty pageant, I'd come in first place. It made me cringe to hear him say that. Still does.

Ben looks good; he's definitely toned up more since June. His brown hair is a bit lighter, and I'm guessing that's from him spending so much time lounging by his pool. You see, Ben's not one to have a summer job. If you ask him where he sees himself in 5 years, he'll tell you working for his dad.

He's wearing black swim trucks that say 'Givenchy' on them with a pair of Oliver Peoples square sunglasses, and looks just as self-absorbed as all the other guys here.

I give him a fake laugh as I pull away from his embrace. "How are you?" I ask him.

"I'm good."

I feel his eyes on me and notice the way his smile curves up when he takes me in. I made it clear to Ben several times after we broke up that I'd love to stay friends, and every part of me plans on keeping it that way.

"Wow, Fee, you really look amazing. Summer did you well."

"I don't know if I'd say that," I awkwardly chuckle.

"Well, whatever it is, you look great. C'mon," he says as he reaches for my hand. "Let's get a drink."