“Are your dad and Logan still awake?” Randy whispered after his lips had traveled back up to my ear. “Will you get in trouble for having me up here?”

“No,” I said. “It’s Logan’s birthday. They went on a gambling boat for the night.”

Randy pulled back, a frown spreading across his full lips. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have walked through the front door instead of climbing up to your window.”

I ducked my head. “Well, you’re the one who wanted to prove you were sorry. I think climbing the drainpipe was the least you could do.”

He looked a little pissed for a minute, but he got over it fast. “Okay, you’re probably right,” he said with a shrug and a tiny little smile. He leaned down and kissed me again.

We stood there in front of my desk, kissing for a while. Both of his hands were on my waist, and my fingers were twisted into his hair. After a few minutes, he pulled away so we could catch our breath.

“I love you,” he said, touching the tip of his nose to mine.

“You, too.”

He pressed his lips to mine again, kissing me for a long moment before easing back just slightly. “Babe,” he whispered against my mouth, “do you want to…?”

My eyes opened, traveling momentarily to the bed before moving back to meet his gaze. He was waiting for me. Pleading with me. I kissed him again, relaxing against him, and pressed my hips a little closer to his.

The quiet moments were the best. When our heartbeats had just started to slow down and the only sound was our breathing. It was the most intimate feeling in the world, letting someone hold me like that. Those were the moments when I was reminded just how much we loved each other, when I could finally let myself fully relax, when I thought that maybe Chloe was right and I could really open up to Randy about how I felt. Those were my favorite moments spent with him.

“Okay. I’d better get going.”

Well, those moments were great when they lasted more than five seconds.

“What?”

Randy disentangled himself from me and kicked off the comforter that was spread over us. I watched as he climbed off my bed and moved to button his jeans.

“Where are you going?” I sat up and searched for my shirt in the sheets. Suddenly, I felt too exposed, too vulnerable.

“Shane wants me to meet up with him in the old Fifth Street parking lot. Some soccer idiots wanna start shit with us because of that freshman who hurt himself. I think it’ll be a good fight.”

“You’re ditching me to go fight with soccer players?” I asked. I yanked my T-shirt over my head and turned to stare at him. “I thought you were trying to prove that I came first.”

“I did,” he said. “I came here first, didn’t I? I could’ve gone straight to the fight, but I came to see my girl.” He walked over to me and leaned down, kissing me on the cheek. “And we had a good time, right?”

“No, you had a good—”

“I’ll call you later,” he said. “I was here longer than I expected to be—not that I’m complaining, but Shane’s waiting on me. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

He tried to kiss me again, but I jerked away.

Randy sighed and shook his head. “Don’t be like this, Lissa,” he said, and then he turned and walked out of my bedroom.

I started to go after him. I jumped out of bed, momentarily determined to give him a piece of my mind, but stopped in the doorway. I took a deep breath and forced it all back, forced myself to stay in control.

But a minute later—as the front door slammed downstairs and the sound of Randy walking toward his car on the street corner wafted up through my window—I knew this was the last time I would be left behind for this war. I had to do something about it. Put a stop to the stupidity. Get Randy out of this trap he was in. For him. For both of us.

And I knew just how to do it.

chapter five

The next morning, eleven of Hamilton High’s female students received an e-mail instructing them to meet in the library during their lunch period. Nine of the girls were dating football players. One had slept with most of the team. And the eleventh girl, a junior named Ellen Brennan, was the longtime girlfriend of the captain of the soccer team… and she was also my ex–best friend.

The e-mail directed each of the girls to take a seat at the round table in the back corner of the library, where they would be given details on a plan to end the fall sports rivalry that had plagued Hamilton High for far too long.

And you know who sent that e-mail?

Me.

“I don’t see why you had to send me an e-mail,” Chloe said, leaning her seat back and propping her feet up on the table. She had on really cute white sandals, and her toenails were painted bright red. “You could have just called me.”

I put a hand on the back of her chair and pushed it forward. Her feet slid off the table as she let the chair’s front legs hit the floor again. “I thought a group e-mail seemed more official,” I said. “And it’s so much more orderly.”

“You’re so freaking neurotic.” Chloe ran her fingers through her brown corkscrew curls. I knew she hated them; they were apparently a pain in the ass to manage. But they just looked so adorable on her. “And I don’t get why you won’t tell me about this plan of yours.”

“You’ll find out soon,” I told her, tapping my fingers on the table in front of me and checking the clock. “Where is everyone? Lunch started two minutes ago. It can’t just be us.”

“Did you really expect everyone to show?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone else has to hate this just as much as I do,” I said, crossing my arms. “I can’t be the only one sick of this stupid fight.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Chloe said. “But you’re the only one crazy and controlling enough to think you can do shit about it.”

Just then, the library doors opened and a group of three girls walked in, all carrying sack lunches. It took them only a second to locate the table I’d specified in the e-mail, and they took their seats across from Chloe and me.

“Hey, Lissa,” they each said in turn.

I nodded in welcome.

They ignored Chloe completely.

She ignored them right back.

“So what’s this about again?” Kelsey Foagler asked, twirling a strand of her blond hair around a long manicured finger.

“I have a plan to end the rivalry,” I told her.

“Oh, right. That’s adorable.” It was her MO to sound incredibly insincere.

“Um, thanks?”

The doors opened again and a few more girls trickled in with their lunches, taking the remaining places around the table. I smiled at Chloe, realizing that my plan might actually work. Only four more girls had to show up before I’d have everyone from the e-mail list. She just rolled her eyes at me.

One by one, the last batch of girls came through the library doors.

Ellen was the last to walk in, and I admit, I was shocked she’d decided to come. I’d added her to the e-mail list more on a hopeful whim than with actual faith that she’d show. We hadn’t spoken in a year, yet here she was, taking the seat beside me and giving me a smile like nothing had changed. But Ellen had always been a better, more forgiving person than I was.

“Hey,” I said nervously. “Um, it’s nice to see you.”

“You, too.”

Across the table, Kelsey was giving her a less-than-welcoming stare, reserved especially for girlfriends of soccer players. I couldn’t help cringing. Tensions from the feud had seeped into the lives of the girls, too. That had been what pulled Ellen and me apart last year.

The table was full of chatter. I cleared my throat a couple of times, trying to get their attention, but no one seemed to hear me.

“Hey, bitches, shut up and let Lissa talk!” Chloe shouted, and everyone fell silent. Man, sometimes I wished I had her nerve. At least, I did until I noticed Mrs. Hillman, the librarian, shooting us a disapproving glare. Oops.