Halfway through the movie a soft brush against my thumb catches my attention and I peer down to see Max’s thumb gently skimming back and forth over mine. He continues for a few moments, and I’m transfixed by the simple action. His thumb pauses, and I watch as he moves his hand so that his fingers lace securely with mine.

“I’m not dating, Felicia,” Max says quietly, “I haven’t been dating anyone since Karli’s party. I just, I don’t know, I needed to distract myself from you. I don’t want to interfere. I know you’re with Eric. I don’t understand it, but I know you are.”

“So you distracted yourself by sleeping with Felicia?” The accusation comes out before I can think of a more tactful way of asking.

Max shakes his head, carefully keeping eye contact with me. “We hung out a few times, but this incredibly distracting blonde that lives next door made me realize I was just making everything worse.” He gives me a small, hesitant smile that causes a flurry of excitement to unleash inside of me.

I want to wrap my hands around Max and finally kiss him, but I don’t. I’m not even worried about betraying Eric at this point. I’m worried about betraying myself. Kissing Max and telling him how much I like him, and how long I’ve liked him right now, would be a breach of trust to a relationship I’ve been stubborn and admittedly stupid about maintaining. I need to end it before I begin something with Max in order for our relationship to begin on the right path.

Simultaneously I’m trying to process the last few weeks. Seeing him with Felicia hurts even though I know it’s completely hypocritical because I’ve been doing the exact same thing. And then there’s Megan, and I don’t even know who Megan is. And Max seemed to waffle between his feelings even before Felicia. Was that before Megan? Who’s Megan?! But Jameson warned me that he wouldn’t act on anything until Eric and I broke up.

My head’s spinning faster than the Tilt-A-Whirl at the circus.

“What are you thinking?”

My eyes focus on his, my heart beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird, as I try to articulate my emotions. “I’m worried that you’re going to go back to the gray.”

“Back to the gray?”

“Every time I think you’re telling me that you like me, something happens and you seem to go back to the land of gray where I can’t fully decipher your words or intentions.”

“It’s always been black or white,” he says, shaking his head. He grins as my face balks at his response. Max has been anything but white and black for me.

“I have to finish some things.”

Max nods and then doesn’t ask or say anything more about it. I don’t know if he understands my silent explanation, or is just being polite and allowing me to sort through my feelings. We sit through the entire movie, and he never moves any further than keeping his fingers interlocked with mine.

That night as I enter my room, my cheeks ache from the smile that’s been spread across my face for the past few hours. I head to my closet and stop when I notice Max standing in his window, motioning with his arms for me to open mine.

“Do you want to go with me to San Diego tomorrow? I have to go do a walk-through at seven. We could go grab breakfast and then go.”

“I have something I need to do tomorrow. But I’ll see you when you get home.” I can tell by his bright smile, he knows I’m referring to Eric.

“Thanks for talking to me, Max.”

“Always, Ace. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next morning I try to contact Eric to see if we can meet up so I can finally end things. He has to realize this is coming; all summer we’ve seen each other only a handful of times and none of them have been even remotely romantic, usually ending in a disagreement or him leaving early, like the barbecue or the party at Tim Evans’.

He agrees to meet me at five, and I spend the afternoon mentally preparing what I’m going to say.

I pull into the parking lot at 4:57 p.m., intentionally parking a few spots away from him. The words that I’ve been rehearsing all day run through my mind again as I step out of my car. I feel slightly guilty for suggesting we meet at a restaurant when I know I’m going to break up with him, but for the first time since Tim Evans’s party, I don’t feel confident in knowing what Eric’s reaction is going to be.

“Finally! You’re late!” Eric says, striding over to my door. He hastily closes it and grabs my hand, pulling me in the direction of his.

I raise my eyebrows at his annoyance. “What are you doing?” I ask as he opens his passenger door. “We’re supposed to be going to dinner.”

“We are, but not here. I promised some people we would be there by now. We can talk after dinner. This is a big deal. We need to go.” He speaks as though I’m his errant child. I frown and cross my arms across my chest, refusing to move.

Eric releases a loud sigh, making his nostrils flare as he avoids eye contact with me by looking over my shoulder. He works to maintain a temper that I’ve only seen a small number of times.

“Harper, I’m sorry. I would really appreciate you doing this for me. Afterward we can talk all you want, but this is really important to me.”

I let out a deep breath and get in the car. As soon as I’m in, I regret my decision to be compliant and try not to visibly cringe when he places his hand on my bare thigh. He hands me my cell phone that I’d left at his house, and I accept it and try to fight the impulse to text Max and see how things went.

We arrive downtown with the wish I hadn’t gotten in his car running through my mind for the thousandth time in the last fifteen minutes. My mind wanders to Max again, and I wonder what he’s doing as I follow Eric inside the dimly lit restaurant.

Eric gives a name to the hostess, and we’re taken to the middle of the restaurant where there’s a table with three other couples already seated. They seem to notice us before we’re halfway across the restaurant and one of the men waves to us, grinning.

Dinner is just short of being considered ugly. The “important people” are a bunch of social climbing snobs trying to see whose face they can step on to reach the next rung.

I’ve met plenty of people like this in my life and partially due to the fact that I’ve never cared for them, and partially due to the fact that I’ve just hit number three thousand and eighty-two of times that I’ve regretted agreeing to come to this dinner, I don’t even bother trying to be polite and courteous. When one of them makes a scene to the waitress and acts like a complete scumbag, I snap, excusing myself from the table and leave.

“Babe, slow down,” Eric pleads. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against his chest and he leans forward and kisses my neck, making every muscle in my body constrict.

“Eric, stop.” His breath reeks of expensive brandy, causing my stomach to churn, and his clawing hands make me feel dirty and restless. I push his arm away and continue down the sidewalk.

“Babe, why are you mad? Maybe you just need to get laid. That always puts girls in a good mood. You just need to give it up already, stop playing hard to get.”

I whip my head around, glaring at him. “I’m done Eric! We,” I say, motioning with my finger between the two of us, “we’re done.”

“Harper.” He spits my name, like it’s the answer to all evil as he jogs a few steps to catch up to where I’m heading toward a line of cabs. “Why are you being so damn difficult?” People are starting to stare at us, making me regret for the three thousand and eighty-third time that I got in his damn car. “They were just kidding around, Harper. There’s no need to be so uptight,” he says, fishing around in his pocket.

I stop and face him. “No, they aren’t. But, really, I don’t care because they’re your friends and I don’t expect to ever see them again.”