“Do you want ice?” He looks over his shoulder at me and I simply nod, not certain what he’s planning to fix.

After placing a plate in the microwave, he grabs two glasses from a cupboard, fills them both with ice water and deposits them on the table, sliding one to me. He then travels to the microwave as it beeps and takes out a plate of pizza.

Rather than sit down, Max disappears down the hall and returns with a docking station and his phone.

“Sorry, I don’t have your type of music on here.”

“My type?”

He looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Country.”

“Country isn’t my type.”

Max’s eyebrows draw together. “All I ever hear from your backyard is country music.”

“My mom.”

“Not you?”

I shake my head. “No, country music is always about either love, or love ending, and I like music that talks about life.”

“A lot of people would argue that love is life.”

“Maybe.” I watch my finger draw a star in the condensation on my glass.

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” I confirm.

“You’ve never been in love?”

I look up feeling Max’s eyes on me and shake my head. “I’m only nineteen.”

“Love has age requirements now? I’m pretty sure I was like eight when I fell in love with Pamela Anderson.”

My head tips back as I laugh. “I’ve been in like plenty of times; I’ve even been in love with the idea of being in love. But big gesture, life-sacrificing, stalking, jealous, craving, crazy kind of love … no.”

“That’s a lot of adjectives. Sounds like you’ve put some thought into it.”

I shrug nonchalantly and take another drink of water.

“You’re definitely dating the wrong type if you’ve never felt jealousy.”

“Do you feel jealousy?” I’m not sure if Max is aware my question is laced with the question of whether he’s dating the right type or not.

“I have before,” he admits, glancing at me. “Each time Pamela had to go save another idiot I felt a little jealous.” I laugh again and watch as Max smiles in response. He clears his throat and looks over to his phone. “Do you know this band?”

“Sure, they’re one of my favorites.”

“Why do you like them?”

“Good music is like poetry. The lyrics are more than just words, they’re a story of emotions.”

“Do you think love does that?”

He’s looking at me with uncertainty making me wonder if it’s the subject at hand, or my answer that he isn’t sure he wants to hear. “I hope so.”

There’s a long pause as I try to recall how exactly we got to discussing love in the first place when Max breaks the silence, a cocky grin across his face. “You really plan to stalk the person that you’re in love with?”

I softly chuckle, thinking of the many hours of stalking experience I’ve gained recruited by my sisters or friends. Just the time devoted to Max alone is fairly substantial, but if guys are anything like us, he already knows.

“I hope that I’ll want to. Not like creepy, installing an app on his phone so I can track his whereabouts or anything, but healthy stalking … like wanting to know what he’s doing and where he’s going.”

Max lets out an easy laugh and leans back in his chair before sliding the plate closer to me. “Eat. It will make you feel better tomorrow.”After we finish the pizza that went cold from talking, I stand to leave. Max walks to the door with me, and I expect him to stop as I make my way across the porch, but he continues with me up to my front door.

“Do me a favor.”

I turn and look at Max, my mind racing with possible requests.

“Stay the hell away from Marshall.”

A small grin spreads across my face as I reach forward to pull the door open. “See you around, Max.”

He nods in reply and then turns and disappears back to his house.

On Thursday I find myself surrounded by a small group of people that I’ve known since grade school. We’re out in the middle of the lake, where alcohol is being poured freely and often and jokes and stories are exchanged with the sole intent of upping the last one told.

Jolene leans against my shoulder, giggling as she recounts a story involving alcohol and streaking.

Eventually the conversation turns to dares leading several people to line up for a diving contest. I watch Kelsey jump off the side. She attempts to flip backwards in a somersault and only manages to partially rotate before her back slaps against the rippling water making me cringe. She surfaces nearly instantly in a fit of giggles.

Emory and John help her back into the boat as Lisa gets ready. She’s nimble and more daring than probably anyone I know. She throws her arms in the air as she leaps off the back and flips through the air, gracefully gliding into the water looking like an Olympic contestant.

“Ace, your turn!” Emory shouts.

“I’m just judging for accuracy.”

“You and lakes. I forgot.”

I smile and give a brief nod of acknowledgement before he turns to prey on the next victim while I sit back and continue nursing the same bottle of beer that I’d accepted a few hours ago. I try to lose myself in the web of memories being spun around me.

“Max Miller, what’s up, man? It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!”

“Hey.” Max nods in our direction as I climb out of the car and close the passenger door.

“This is the ticket we need. Max is crazy smart when it comes to cars.”

“That’s okay, really. My parents have Triple A. I’ll just get it towed,” My words come out so fast I can see Emory’s eyebrows draw together, trying to untie them.

Emory yells out the passenger window next to me, “Hey, man, could I ask you for a huge favor?”

Max glances from Emory to me and back to Emory before he saunters over to the driver’s side. “What’s going on?”

“A bunch of us were down at the lake and her car wouldn’t start. We tried jumping it but that did nothing.”

“Sure. I’ll take her.” There’s a strange edge to Max’s voice. I haven’t seen Max since Kendall and I had our TP adventure.

Emory glances over the hood of the car to me, and I nod to let him know that I’ll be fine.

“Alright, well if you don’t mind, I’m supposed to be at work soon,” he says, rotating his wrist to glance at his watch, “but if you guys need anything, call me.”

“She’ll be fine,” Max replies, sounding a bit defensive to the silent insinuation.

I nod again and smile to Emory, trying to be more convincing than I feel. “Thanks again for the ride home!”

“Anytime, beautiful.” Emory winks and flashes a smile before he climbs back into his car and drives away.

I fall into step next to Max as he makes it to his Jeep parked in the driveway.

“Where’s Eric?” Max asks.

“He didn’t go. He’s doing something with his parents in San Diego.”

“And you didn’t go?”

I’ve met Eric’s parents. Neither of them are overly friendly and mostly discuss business, which bores me senseless. Even when they do talk to me, it’s mostly at me rather than to me leaving me feeling judged and awkward. Now I just opt not to attend, and Eric never seems to care.

“Shouldn’t you be choosing wedding colors or something?”

The question makes my eyes widen in both shock and horror. “You’re under the impression I’m going to marry him?”

“Haven’t you guys been dating for like a year?” Max grabs a set of keys and unlocks his Jeep before going to a keypad by the garage and entering a code to make it open.

“Do you have multiple personality disorder?” I ask.

Max looks over his shoulder at me, raised eyebrows and rounded eyes goading me. I briefly wonder if he’d overheard the loud discussion when Jenny, Kendall, and I were hanging out in the pool and they took turns doing Eric impersonations and loudly encouraged me to dump him.

“We like to do our own thing,” I finally answer, watching as Max shuffles things around in a tool box. He glances up at me as he latches it and carries it with him to the Jeep.