My dad and I were lying back, watching a movie in the two recliners in our living room, me covered in a fuzzy blanket, him complaining that it was too hot with the thermostat set to seventy-three. He'd gotten used to not having a female around.

He paused the movie and turned his neck to look at me. His voice cracked. "Your mom would be proud of you."

"Dad, don't make me cry again."

He chuckled, starting to regain composure. "Seriously. Who you are, everything you've accomplished. And I'm proud of you too."

"I know," I whispered. "Thank you."

His eyes filled with tears, but he was able to blink them back. "I regret having to put you in such a hard position so young. I wish I could go back and do things differently. You shouldn't have had to grow up so fast."

"I wouldn't want you take it back even if you could, okay?" I held my hand out to him, and he took it with a nod.

The light from the television caught his tears, and I was sure mine too, but I felt nothing but peace.

I didn't think anything else needed to be said except, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you more, Reese." He squeezed my hand and pressed play. One word came out of the speakers before my dad pressed pause again. "Speaking of love..."

I rolled my teary eyes at him. "You know, we don't have to talk about it."

"I think that depends on how much you don't hate him."

"I... don't hate him." And I actually wasn't pretending.

My dad nodded all-knowingly. "And you're here and he's there, why?"

"There's nothing there for me," I said. "I don't want to relive high school."

"What about new memories?"

I shook my head. "They wouldn't work."

"You're firmly in the not-trying camp?" he asked.

"Well... yeah," I reasoned. "Colin and Emelia with an E aren't going to make it."

"This isn't about them," my dad smirked. "But if you want to go down that road, then should I have never tried with Mom?"

"That isn't the same thing," I insisted.

"I regret a lot of things, Reese," he started. "I regret not having enough life insurance to cover our expenses, I regret having to work so much, I regret putting so much responsibility on you at such a young age. It wasn't fair to you. And although you did an incredible job and Colin is better off because of you, I feel like I took something from you. But one thing I will never regret is your mom. I hope I can find an ounce of what I felt for her again with someone new one day. And I won't be able to find it unless I try. And try again. And probably try a few more times."

My chest felt heavy. I tried to breathe, but my lungs had filled with cement. No words would come out of my mouth when I tried to speak.

My dad continued, "You'll never find that if you don't choose to be vulnerable, Reese."

My phone dinged in my lap, and my dad raised his eyebrows. There was no way Colin was texting me. Paige. It had to be Paige. "I'm sure it's Paige," I choked out.

My dad smiled. "I've said it all." He nodded toward my lap, turned away, and pressed play.

It wasn't Paige.

I steadied my hand. I probably left my toothbrush in his car or something.

When I clicked on my messages, a picture of me and Luke from Chicago filled the screen—a reflection in stainless steel. He must have secretly taken it when we were lying on the ground under The Bean. Our faces were close, noses almost touching, as we looked at each other. His phone was laying on his stomach, his finger secretly taking a picture, and I was smiling my real smile.

I resisted looking at my dad when my phone dinged again. I quickly turned it to silent.

This is my favorite one, his text said.

Was he sitting at our high school reunion thinking about me? Flipping through pictures by himself and missing me? Did that mean something? Or was he just being Luke? God, I wanted to be with him even if where he was was the last place on Earth I wanted to be. I let this go way too far.

"Go," my dad whispered.

My phone buzzed again, but this time with a news alert: Pilot Strike Over. The one thing I'd been waiting the entire week for, and somehow, I still would have rather been in a ten by five box hurtling down the highway across the country with Luke than on the comfort of an airplane.

Fuck my life.

—

How do you have a pep talk with yourself about manning up and opening the door to a bar to see if maybe someone would be interested in trying with you?

After ten minutes of the bouncer looking at me like I was crazy, I still didn't have an answer to that question.

"I'm going to sit on the patio," I told him as I slid by him. I hadn't even begun my pep talk. I needed to sit.

I'd never even tried to try before. I didn't know what to tell myself or Luke. This was grown up shit. Real life—I wanted him in my real life. Not in a fake escape from reality type of thing.

But I'd only been sitting for thirty seconds before the patio door swung open, hitting the brick wall, and Luke came out in mild rage. He didn't see me, and I shrunk back into my cushioned chair, trying to make myself smaller.

"Luke!" I heard Avery say in a huff behind him.

He spun around to face her and caught the door with his palm. "You told me she didn't know," he said angrily.

The oxygen in my brain depleted. Avery noticed me and her green eyes went wide.

Luke turned his neck to see what she was focused on. When he saw me, his face softened, a smile starting, but instantly turned to panic when he realized I'd heard what he said.

"Am I still a game?" I said. I thought. I wasn't sure if any sound had actually come from my lips.

"What?" Luke scowled. "No!"

Avery was frozen in her ridiculously high heels, unsure whether she should run or fight.

I wasn't sure which I one I wanted her to choose.

I tried to sound more confident. "Then who doesn't know about what?" I shot back.

Luke closed his eyes but didn't respond.

"I can't believe I came here to be some pawn in a game you created," I spat out at Luke. "You won. Now I can go back to hating you. All is right in the world."

Avery was staring at me, tears welling in her eyes. She didn't have any right to fucking cry. Luke's eyes flew open, and he grabbed my hand when I tried to make for the exit.

His voice sounded wounded. "Wait, what? Created? You thought I wrote that game? Why would you think I—"

I pulled my hand from his grip, but when he cut himself off so abruptly, I twirled around to say anything that would hurt him as much as he'd hurt me. Instead, nothing came out because he wasn't looking at me. He was giving Avery the same death stare that I imagined I gave Luke every time I saw him. And she looked like a child who just found out Santa wasn't real and all the magic was suddenly sucked from the world.

They were having a silent conversation. One I wasn't privy to because they had a history. One where only facial expressions were needed because the two of them knew exactly what was going on. Luke spoke anyway.

"What the fuck, Avery? How could you?" he seethed.

"Luke, I..." she trailed off, trying to stifle a sob.
Luke pushed past her, and she reached for his arm.

"Don't touch me," he muttered before turning back to me. "Please come find me when you're done talking to her. Please, Reese."

The way he said my name off of his lips startled me. No one could make it sound the way he did.

Then he disappeared, and the door slammed shut, leaving me and Avery alone on the patio.

My mind was reeling. If he didn't write it, why did he apologize to me over and over? If he didn't write it, who the hell did, and why did Avery tell me it was Luke?

I narrowed my eyes at her, waiting for her explanation that I knew wouldn't be good enough.

She blinked, and two tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Reese," she whispered.

"I don't believe you," I said firmly.

Avery hung her head, unable to look me in the eye. "I was so mad at you for not being my friend anymore. I was mad that Luke liked you."

I scoffed. This could not be real life. I bore holes into Avery's forehead, waiting for her to continue.

"I saw the way he looked at you in Biology, and I wanted him. You were always smiling at him and turning around to say something about class. I could tell you liked him. And like the bitch I'd become, I did something about it." She paused and took a deep breath.

"You wrote it?" I hissed.

She shook her head. "No, Russ wrote it. I heard him and Miles talking about it. It was their game. They were the only two who played it. But I borrowed it from him to lie to you. I knew once you thought he'd done something like that, you'd never give him the time of day."

I laughed to keep myself from throwing up. Of course, Russ wrote it. It made sense once she said it. Every douchebag thing he ever did to me, and I'd still thought that Luke was the bad guy.

Avery finally looked up like a scared puppy. "I told Luke you hated him because he was your competition for valedictorian and that you would never date him. And the rest kind of played itself out."

I didn't think someone could be that self-centered. "It looks like you won then, Avery."

"I didn't." She shifted her weight to her other heel. "I was so selfishly mad at you for not being around. I lost my best friend. I've always regretted it. I was young and stupid, and then I loved being popular. Without you around to shine, I was cool."

"I don't want to hear anymore."

I turned toward the patio exit, but Avery raised her voice slightly, and her words came out rushed. "Luke broke up with me when he found the game in my room. I had a copy in my desk all that time. I was so ashamed. I told him you never knew about it. I couldn't face what I'd done."

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I'd hated him for that long over nothing. He was the exact opposite of everything I'd thought he was for years. He even defended me when it mattered—broke up with his girlfriend over something she'd hurt me with.

Hate got me nowhere.

But honestly when I thought about it, neither did love.

"I loved you, Avery. I wished for so long that I didn't have to watch Colin every weekend so I could hang out with you. I missed my best friend. I was hurting. But it turns out, you were just a shitty person like everyone else."

"I'm an asshole," she replied. "Trust me, I know."

"You never deserved Luke. He is too good for you."

"He likes you," Avery said softly.

Anger and shame rose inside me at her words, and my stomach heaved. I almost doubled over to throw up in the potted plant next to the door. I had screwed up beyond anything. I was the asshole in this situation—every situation. My eyes stung when I realized I wouldn't be able to face him—face what I'd done myself. I couldn't look him in the eye and explain the past ten years to him. It was so unbelievably unbearable to even think about.

I swallowed my feelings. "It doesn't fucking matter. It isn't enough. And you know what, Avery? I forgive you. I don't hate you. I'm not going to let it control me anymore."

This was supposed to be the summer of me, and that's exactly what I was going to do. No one else. Just me. Alone. How it had always been for me.

How it was supposed to be.

Fuck being vulnerable.

Fuck hanging on to shit.

I let it all go and walked out of the patio without looking back—leaving it all behind me.

I was going to love myself.