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them. They are who they are.” The words were empty, almost totaly free of inflection or recrimination, but I knew Jason cared more than he let on.
    “I’m going to hop in the shower and get the smel of pepperoni

    “I’m going to hop in the shower and get the smel of pepperoni out of my hair,” I said, tugging my ponytail out of its elastic. “You can find us a movie on cable.”
    Jason reached over and grabbed my hand again, tugging me back down, a serious, thoughtful expression on his face. I crouched so we were at eye level. “Do you think everything wil be al right?” he asked, leaning forward until our faces were inches apart. His eyes were ful of shadows and storms.
    I suppressed a shiver. Jason had this uncanny way of looking at a girl—an intensity that could leave you disorientated and a little lost. He did it without even trying. After three years, I stil wasn’t completely immune to it.
    “Do you?” he repeated, softer this time.
    How was I supposed to know?
    I stared into Jason’s eyes, and for a split second I had that feeling you get when an elevator drops too quickly. You know there’s a floor underneath your feet, but it feels like you’re faling. I nodded and my hair fel over my face. Without missing a beat, Jason brushed it back, his fingers lingering on my cheek just a second longer than necessary.
    “Everything wil be al right,” I lied, and then I headed for the bathroom before the confusion could show on my face.
    For an instant, I’d had the impossible feeling that Jason had been about to kiss me.
    I wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at the person looking back at me. Plain and pale with dishwater blond hair and guilty back at me. Plain and pale with dishwater blond hair and guilty brown eyes. Nothing special. Nothing like Amy had been. I leaned forward, gripping the edge of the sink. I couldn’t stay in the bathroom al night.
    “It’s okay,” I whispered to my reflection. “She would understand. You didn’t mean to think it.”
    Sometimes, thoughts just popped into my head—like the ones I occasionaly had about Kyle. None of those thoughts ever meant anything, and neither had this particular thought.
    It was nothing. Less than nothing.
    Thinking that Jason had been about to kiss me didn’t mean I wanted him to or that he had actualy been contemplating it. It was exhaustion and stress and the smel of alcohol on someone else’s breath. It wasn’t want or reality.
    Amy wouldn’t need to forgive me, because there was nothing to forgive.
    I shut off the bathroom light and opened the door.
    Jason was snoring softly on the couch. He was stil wearing his jeans, but he’d tossed his shirt onto the coffee table, knocking over one of Tess’s pilar candles in the process. CNN flickered on the TV. So much for a movie.
    With a sigh, I turned off the television just as a story about Senator Walsh came on. Lately, it seemed like Amy’s grandfather was always on the news.
    Jason roled onto his side. I cringed a little as I noticed the dark smudges on his skin. Trey realy had done a number on him.
    I watched him for a minute, holding my breath and waiting to see if he’d wake up. Asleep, he looked younger. His face lost the hard if he’d wake up. Asleep, he looked younger. His face lost the hard edges it had developed over the past five months and he didn’t look as haunted.
    Dozens of girls at Kennedy High would have kiled to have a shirtless Jason Sheffield stretched out in their living room. I could probably have taken pictures and auctioned them off. I couldn’t realy blame them. Kyle was lean and athletic through years of playing soccer, but Jason had the kind of body that came with personal chefs and trainers. The kind of body that cost money.
    Practicaly every girl at school had, at one point or another, spent a boring Spanish class fantasizing about kissing Jason.
    Including me. Before I knew Amy—before I knew Jason was with Amy—I had daydreamed about him,