“Yeah, I do, but I can do all that after school’s out. You can come with me.” He peered at me. “Are you jealous?”

“No!”

He was grinning now. “Worried about all the wet T-shirt contests?”

“No!” I hated that he was making this into a joke. It was infuriating, being the only one who was mad.

“If you’re so worried, then just come with us. It’ll be fun.”

He did not say, If you are worried, you shouldn’t be.

He said, If you are worried, you should come with us. I knew he didn’t mean it that way, but it still bothered me.

“You know I can’t afford it. Besides, I don’t want to go to Cabo with you and your ‘bros.’ I’m not going to go and be the only girlfriend and drag down your party.”

“You wouldn’t be. Josh’s girlfriend, Alison, is going to be there,” Jeremiah said.

So Alison had been invited and not me? I sat up straight. “Alison’s going with you guys?”

“It’s not like that. Alison’s going with her sorority.

They’re getting a bunch of rooms at the same resort as us. But it’s not like we’ll be hanging out with them all the time. We’re gonna do guy stuff, like off-road racing in the desert. Rent some ATVs, go rappelling, stuff like that.”

I stared at him. “So while you race around with your buddies in the desert, you want me to hang out with a bunch of girls I don’t know?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know Alison. You guys were beer-pong partners in our house tournament.”

“Whatever. I’m not going to Cabo. I’m going home.

My mom misses me.” What I didn’t say was, your dad misses you too.

When Jeremiah just shrugged, like, Have it your way, I thought, oh, what the hell, I’ll say it. “Your dad misses you too.”

“Oh my God. Belly, just admit that this isn’t about my dad. You’re paranoid about me going on spring break without you.”

“Why don’t you admit that you didn’t want me to go in the first place, then?”

He hesitated. I saw him hesitate. “Fine. Yeah, I wouldn’t mind if this was just a guys’ trip.”

Standing up, I said, “Well, it sounds like there will be plenty of girls there. Have fun with the Zetas.”

Now his neck started to turn a dull red. “If you don’t trust me by now, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve never done anything to make you question me. And Belly, I really don’t need you guilt tripping me about my dad.”

I started putting my shoes on, and I was so mad, my hands shook as I tried to lace up my sneakers. “I can’t even believe how selfish you are.”

“Me? I’m the selfish one now?” He shook his head, his lips tight. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he closed it.

“Yes, you are definitely the selfish one in this relationship. It’s always about you, your friends, your stupid fraternity. Have I told you I think your fraternity is stupid?

Because I do.”

In a low voice, he said, “What’s so stupid about it?”

“It’s just a bunch of entitled rich guys spending their parents’ money, cheating on tests with your test bank, going to class wasted.”

Looking hurt, he said, “We’re not all like that.”

“I didn’t mean you.”

“Yeah, you did. What, just because I’m not premed, that makes me this lazy frat guy?”

“Don’t put your inferiority complex on me,” I said. I said it without thinking. It was something I had thought before but never voiced. Conrad was the one who was 28 · jenny han

premed. Conrad was the one at Stanford, working a part-time job at a lab. Jeremiah was the one who told people he majored in beerology.

He stared. “What the hell does that mean, ‘inferiority complex’?”

“Forget it,” I said. Too late, I could see things had gone farther than I had intended. I wanted to take it all back.

“If you think I’m so stupid and selfish and wasteful, why are you even with me?”

Before I could answer, before I could say, You’re not stupid or selfish or wasteful, before I could end the fight, Jeremiah said, “Fuck it. I won’t waste your time anymore.

Let’s end it now.”

And I said, “Fine.”

I grabbed my book bag, but I didn’t leave right away. I was waiting for him to stop me. But he didn’t.

I cried the whole way home. I couldn’t believe that we had broken up. It didn’t feel real. I expected him to call me that night. It was a Friday. He left for Cabo on Sunday morning, and he didn’t call then, either.

My spring break consisted of me moping around the house, eating chips, and crying. Steven said, “Chill out. The only reason he hasn’t called you is that it’s too expensive to make a call from Mexico. You guys will be back together by next week, guaranteed.”

I was pretty sure he was right. Jeremiah just needed some space. Okay, that was fine. When he got back, I we’ll always have summer · 29

would go to him and tell him how sorry I was, and I would fix things, and it would be like it never happened.

Steven was right. We did get back together a week later. I did go to him and apologize, and he apologized too. I never asked him if anything happened in Cabo. It wouldn’t even have occurred to me to wonder. This was a boy who had loved me my whole life, and I was a girl who believed in that love. In that boy.

Jere brought me back a shell bracelet. Little white puka shells. It had made me so happy. Because I knew that he had been thinking of me, that he had missed me as much as I had missed him. He knew like I knew that it wasn’t over between us, that it would never be over. He spent that whole week after spring break in my room, hanging out with me and not his fraternity brothers. It drove my roommate Jillian crazy, but I didn’t care. I felt closer to him than ever. I missed him even when he was in class.

But now I knew the truth. He bought me that stupid cheap bracelet because he felt guilty. And I was so desperate to make up, I hadn’t seen it.

Chapter Six

When I closed my eyes, I saw the two of them, together, kissing in a hot tub. On the beach. In some club. Lacie Barone probably knew tricks and moves I’d never even heard of. But of course she did.

I was still a virgin.

I’d never had sex before, not with Jeremiah, not with anybody. When I was younger, I used to picture my first time with Conrad. It wasn’t that I was still waiting for him. It wasn’t that at all. I was just waiting for the perfect moment. I wanted it to feel special, to feel right.

I’d pictured us finally doing it at the beach house, with the lights off and candles everywhere so I wouldn’t feel shy. I’d pictured how gentle Jeremiah would be, how sweet. Lately I had been feeling more and more ready. I had thought this summer, the two of us back at Cousins—I thought that would be it.

It was humiliating thinking about it now, how naive I’d been. I’d thought he would wait as long as it took for me to be ready. I really believed that.

But how could we be together now? When I thought of him with her, Lacie, who was older and sexier and more worldly than I’d ever be, at least in my mind—it hurt so bad it was hard to breathe. The fact that she knew him in a way I didn’t yet, had experienced something with him that I hadn’t, that felt like the biggest betrayal.

A month ago, around the anniversary of his mom’s death, we were lying in Jeremiah’s twin bed. He rolled over and looked at me, and his eyes were so like Susannah’s, I reached out my hand and covered them.

“Sometimes it hurts to look at you,” I said. I loved that I could say that and he knew exactly what I meant.

“Close your eyes,” he told me.

I did, and he came up close so we were face-to-face and I could feel his Crest breath warm on my cheek. We wrapped our legs around each other. I was overcome with this sudden need to keep him close to me always.

“Do you think it will always be like this?” I asked him.