Like, if Devon’s theory made sense (and it did), why did I spend a few hours rolling around Saxon’s bed yesterday? Why not go home and wait to talk to Jake?

And if Jake was the one, why did I have so much fun with Saxon? There were elements of Saxon that I really connected with. We were both excellent students, we were both great athletes, we knew how to carry a conversation that was witty and funny and flirty all at once. Not that Jake didn’t have these qualities; he just didn’t have them in enough measure to feel like he could compete with me. He was always a little in awe. And I hated that.

I thought back to my pedestal idea from yesterday. I had hated being there. It was too much pressure, and it felt temporary anyway, like I was just waiting for myself to screw it all up. Maybe I had pushed it for that exact reason.

Suddenly Dawes was calling all quizzes forward, and I had to fold away the thoughts of Jake and Saxon and scribble in the last five answers on my quiz. I finished just when Devon was starting to wave his hand back at my seat with crazy panic.

By the time the period was over, I was not feeling any more ready to see Jake later. And I had to face Saxon in Government. Luckily, there was a quiz in Government, too, so there wasn’t much to do except keep my head down and avoid Saxon’s looks. Which were getting more irritated by the minute. When the bell rang, he followed me into the hallway.

“What’s up with you, Blix?” He grabbed me by the elbow. “This is crazy. You’re acting like an asshole.”

“Because I didn’t chat with you during the quiz?” I shook out of his grasp and moved away from him subtly so that he couldn’t get a hold on me. “You’re the one acting like an asshole.”

He managed to grab me again anyway, pulled me to him, and I melted into the way he smelled and the way his body felt against mine. He was bad, just like me. Corrupted, loose-moraled. We were never going to be on anyone’s pedestal.

I kissed him hard, and he kissed back.

He squeezed my butt possessively, and I loved and hated it at the same time. My head felt swimmy and overheated.

“Much better,” he murmured in my ear, then turned to leave for class and did that athletic boy jog that I loved.

I felt like there were actual winged insects in my stomach. It was not a good feeling.

“Um, Brenna?” It was Kelsie. Her eyes were wide. She had a great new haircut, a cute little bob. I wished I could pull something like that off. But, Kelsie looked like a pixie with excellent bone structure. My face was pretty enough, but in that broad, Slavic way that I can thank my Eastern European potato farmer ancestors for.

“I love your haircut,” I gushed. Yes, I was deflecting.

“Thanks,” she smiled. She shook it a little. “It’s so easy to do now! I love that shirt. Please tell me you went on some incredible trip to Europe to get it, because if you tell me you made it I’m going to puke with jealousy.”

“I did go on a trip to Paris,” I said sheepishly. “But I also made the shirt.”

“You better have brought me one!” she demanded.

I took the rolled-up shirt out of my bag and handed it to her. “Black, v-neck, small. I wouldn’t forget you.”

She hugged me and we went to art class. “I’m so glad my best friend is so talented,” she sing-songed.

I felt a rush of happy warmth. Best friend? I would have wanted to call Kelsie that, but I wasn’t sure she felt that way. We were at a weird juncture for really close friendship; both of us had boyfriends and busy lives outside of school, so we didn’t make a lot of time for girl stuff. Which, considering my current dilemma, seemed incredibly stupid. Maybe some girl time would have kept me from all of this insanity.

“I’m glad you like it.” We sat down and took out the last thing we had been working on. I was doing copper plating, and Kelsie was weaving something incredible out of her macramй string. Mine had ended up looking like an old knit hat turned inside out.

“So.” She looked down at her string with careful focus. “Was that Saxon Maclean I saw grabbing your butt after you two kissed?” I knew she was trying to be nonjudgmental, but Saxon wasn’t the kind of guy you didn’t have an opinion about. And he and Kelsie had been on one date earlier that year. It hadn’t panned out. Lucky Kelsie.

When she did lift her eyes to mine, the look she gave me was so reassuring and kind, I felt choked with self pity. I wanted to pour my guts out to her, but didn’t know where to start. She helped.

“What happened between you and Jake?” Her face was so calm and sweet, I just let loose.

I started on Christmas, and I told Kelsie the entire tale, scratching inane lines and squiggles in my copper plate while Kelsie wove a beautiful, complicated knot pattern in her macramй.

When I was finally done, my eyes were hot with tears, my voice was shaky, and my copper plate looked like almost everything I made in crafts; uninspired crap.

“It would have been better if you’d dated Saxon first,” she said finally.

I was so surprised that she had echoed Devon’s sentiments exactly that I just looked at her, my mouth hanging open.

“Because you would have seen him for what he really is and gotten over it,” she rushed. “And you could have been happy with Jake because you would have known.”

“Devon said that if I had done that, I would have had the worst example of a boyfriend as my first, and that I would have held all the rest of them to this really low standard.” Which was really harsh towards Saxon. He had his real flaws, but I know he cared about me and had a weird system of loyalty. Plus, I had met his mother. Lylee was, as far as I was concerned, the worst kind of parasite. Saxon never had a chance with her as him mom.

“Wow.” Kelsie put her nearly complete, perfect creation aside and rested her chin on her hands, deep in thought. “Devon is really smart.”

“I know.” Then I added my portion of the theory to the mix. “Part of me feels a little like Jake kind of worshipped me, you know. Like he didn’t see any flaws. So maybe…”

“You wanted to throw some flaws in his face?” Kelsie asked gently. “But, Jesus, Bren couldn’t you have just been a little bitchier or just dumped him and not dated Saxon? I mean, there’s not a single guy in the world he hates more.”

I nodded. I didn’t add that there was probably no one he had loved more either. And I realized that Saxon’s not telling Jake about their blood bond might have a lot to do with me. My head buzzed and my throat ached from unshed tears.

By the time the bell rang, Kelsie had made me promise to call if I needed and invited me out with her and her boyfriend Chris later in the week if I wanted.

Saxon waited outside the door when the bell rang. We walked to what was quickly becoming my saving-grace period: gym. I always hated it in middle school. There were so many rules and the team thing was intimidating. But since I had proven myself some kind of cross country star, I could spend the entire period running. Every day. And I needed it.

“Ready to run, Gump?” Saxon put an arm around my shoulders.

“I need it.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

He looked at me quizzically. “Okay. No comment there.”

“Why would you say that?” I growled.

“Why are you looking for a fight?” he growled back.

His black eyes flashed, his color was high, and he had never looked so good. Or so excited. Saxon really did seem to have a thing for confrontation. It did something for him that peace just didn’t. He reached for me, and we kissed hungrily. Usually I’d be embarrassed to kiss like that so publicly, but Saxon had a way of negating all social norms. When we pulled away, he was breathing hard, his hands gripped on my shoulders.

“God, I want you,” he said lowly.

“It doesn’t hurt to want.”

He slid his hands down to my hips and kissed me again. It was good despite our strangely public arena. The hall outside of the locker rooms was crawling with people.