“Max Miller?”

I turned, hearing the high-chiming voice of Heather Rodgers and saw her trademark long blond hair. She was wearing a short white dress that stuck to her like a sticker. I know you say you watched me a lot in high school, and I hate that you thought I actually messed around with all of those chicks. I don’t think many of them even had a sincere interest in me, not like you. Those girls just wanted to piss someone off, or have meaningless sex, something I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to do again. Heather had pursued me a good portion of my junior year. I had avoided her at all cost because she played soccer with you when you made JV your freshman year, the year I started noticing too much about you. She was always a pretty girl for the most part. I’m sure you’d say she was gorgeous. You’re like your dad, and see the good in everyone. Her big blue eyes that were a little wide set, and white smile greeted me, and all I could think about was you. It wasn’t fair, not many can compete at your level.

“Oh. My. God! It is you! I can’t believe it!” She laughed and tightly gripped my bicep, either trying to feel my muscles or in an attempt to turn me on. I didn’t know, and quite frankly, didn’t care. You know how you say my mind never stops? Well a flash of thoughts were brought to the forefront of my mind and I could recall her being one of the ring leaders in causing drama for Jenny when she got pregnant.

The ugly memories made me take a step back, but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued talking. “When did you get back? Are you staying? Oh my gosh, we should totally hang out!”

My eyes grew and my mind stopped, and began processing thoughts in a whole new direction. You were always too nice, always worrying about hurting someone’s feelings. I can be a dick and don’t have much remorse when I am, but as much as I wanted to tell her to get lost, you were right, my mom taught me better than that. I was about to lie to her when Jameson rescued me.

“Dude, there she is!” He motioned to the front of the house, clearly not paying any attention to Heather, and I was relieved to stop.

“Sorry, I have to go,” I briefly explained, putting my shot glass down and taking a couple of steps in the direction Jameson was headed. I wrapped my fingers halfway around his bicep to stop him from running over to you guys. You told me you knew he had a thing for Kendall the second he saw her in your backyard, but truly, I think you would be surprised to know just how far he was willing to go.

“What are you doing? Play it cool, let her come to you,” I instructed.

I didn’t know either of you then, but I remember watching Kendall and seeing the domineering look in her eye that was like a dare for people to not look at her. I can’t remember what she was wearing, or what her hair looked like, only that look. I barely noticed her because you were behind her, and just like you were able to do even back when you were a freshman, all of my thoughts stilled and focused on you. You were smiling at someone, and I remember the jealousy that rolled through me that I worked to ignore as I followed your attention to see who was on the receiving end. It was a chick I didn’t recognize, and even though I knew that should cause some sort of relief, it didn’t.

I soaked in your appearance as you spoke with her. Your eyes occasionally drifting in my direction made me wonder if you could feel my stare. It would have been hard to notice; there were too many sets of eyes on you at that point. It had been three years since I had seen you when I pulled up on my motorcycle, and although I never told you this, seeing you that day beside Mindi, nervous and distracted like you were the first day we met, made me regret ever leaving. I’d been struggling to fight a downpour of thoughts about you all week.

You were wearing those bright yellow jeans, the ones that called for my hands to rest on your ass … you know the pair. If anyone else tried wearing them I’d probably find them hideous, but you wore them like you didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought. How wrong you were.

“That guy is totally hitting on her!”

My attention broke to Jameson in confusion. You hadn’t moved. You were still surrounded by the same girls that had convened around you when you stepped in. Then I saw your eyes scan over a group, stopping at Kendall, and remembered why Jameson had that scowl on his face.

It was Jimmy Carson. I’m sure you knew what she was doing, trying to bring Jameson over to her, but I didn’t know her game then. Instead, I told him, “That guy’s a douche. She won’t waste her time on him,” and slapped a hand to his shoulder. “Let’s check out who’s here. Believe me, she’ll come find you.” I swear, I thought she would. I’d seen her go out to her car each time Jameson was outside, returning his eager glances.

A couple of hours into the party I realized I was wrong. You’ll probably roll your brown eyes at me to know I thought it might encourage her to come over if I could find a girl to talk to Jameson. Men generally pick up their game if there’s competition when they’re truly interested. It took getting to know you for me to realize jealousy and competition don’t create a healthy love. It’s a natural emotion, but it’s not something that should ever be used as a pawn.

I was scanning the dance floor for a prospective girl when Brock walked up to me with a shit-faced grin.

“I heard some girls talking about riding the Max train tonight. I had to come find out if it was true!” He clasped my hand in his and slapped my back with the other. “I can’t believe these girls still think your shit don’t stink! Rub some of that bullshit mojo magic on me, player.” He took my hand and rubbed it on his chest, making me laugh even though I sincerely loathed the sentiment. I didn’t know at that time you were just as lost as me, but rather than hopping from one person to the next, hoping one would make you feel something different, something that made you want to commit to someone like I did, you did it by staying in the same relationship, waiting to feel something more.

“Gentlemen, it’s nice to see you both here.”

I turned to see Nathan Hudson approaching, and frowned. Even before I knew you hated him, I loathed the guy. He could be such a cocky bastard and I hadn’t consumed nearly enough alcohol to listen to him discuss who he planned to sleep with, and who he already had.

“Check it out. Baby Bosse is here.” You know I can get agitated over stupid things, but even before I loved you, I felt protective over you. I turned to gaze over my shoulder and caught sight of your bright yellow jeans, making it easy for me to follow you. “I’m so getting in her pants tonight.” You’ll be impressed to hear he said these words to me and I didn’t level him.

“What’s up, Baby Bosse? How are you doing, Ace?” You smiled at him. He could have told me the winning lottery numbers and I wouldn’t have known because I was so distracted. You see, you’ve always been more difficult than others for me to read. For starters, you’ve had a lot of practice placating people—I just wasn’t aware of how fluent you were. I don’t think even you were. And then there’s your mouth. The way your lips curve, and the different variances of your smile that are so slight and yet so significant. Maybe that’s what misled me. Maybe your eyes held a warning and I just never paid enough attention because your mouth was always my favorite distraction. I hated that you smiled at him. I hated it more that it made me question myself.

“It’s good.” Your words broke me from my thoughts and when my eyes left your mouth, I saw you looking at me. Your eyes didn’t hold mine; they never had on the few occasions we caught each other’s attention growing up. I had no idea what he’d asked you. Your words took several seconds to process as I tried to gain my footing with all the noise and commotion happening around us. God, do you remember how loud that place was?