QUINNThanks to the security team that we'd hired to keep the media and the curious public at bay, I could only barely see the people lining the perimeter of the roped-off section of the beach. I knew they were there, but it was okay; today of all days, I wanted to share all of my happiness with everyone and anyone. Behind me, the folding chairs that had been arranged on the portable wooden floor-and who knew they had such things!-were filled with our loved ones. We had quite a crowd, for what we'd both termed a small, intimate wedding, but then we were very blessed with both friends and family. My mother sat in the front row, flanked by Joe and Lisa on one side and Mark and Sheri on the other. Leo and I had dispensed with the silly idea of the bride's side and groom's side. We shared so many friends that making them choose which one of us to support would have been crazy. And our parents had decreed early on that they were all going to sit together, forming a united front. The
QUINNThe party was in full swing, with music blaring and the dance floor crowded. I was sitting on Leo's lap, with his arms circling my waist as we chatted with Zelda and Tucker. "Hey, did you see that?" Zelda nodded toward the crush of dancing couples. On the very edge, Gia was slow dancing with Tate Durham. She stared up into his face as he murmured to her, and I glanced back at Zelda with raised brows. "When did that happen?" I'd spent quite a bit of time lately with Zelda and Gia, who were both my bridesmaids, but Gia hadn't mentioned anything about Tate Durham. I didn't even realize she knew him, although thinking back, they must've met at Carolina, when we used to go see Leo and Matt."Got me. But they look mighty cozy.""She deserves a little happiness. And Tate's a good guy." Leo, who had been talking to Tucker about how brutal mini-camp had been this year, picked up on my last words. He followed my gaze to Gia and Tate and smirked. "Well, it's about time." "Hey.
LEOI couldn't remember her name. The girl standing in front of me, twirling a lock of her blonde hair around one scarlet-tipped finger as she leaned forward to give me a good look at her tits down the scooped neck of her snug sweater ... I didn't know what to call her. That wouldn't have been such a big deal if I hadn't spent a couple of hours last night fucking her senseless. "I didn't know if you had my phone number." She smirked and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "We didn't actually do much talking last night.""Yeah, that's true." Holly? Hallie? Hildie? God, who was she?"But in case you wanted to get in touch so we could . . ." One of her light eyebrows rose suggestively. "You know, get in touch again, you should have my number." Before I could reply, she eased closer to me, brushing her boobs into my chest as she reached around to grab my ass. Or I thought that was what she was doing-but no, her fingers dug into the back pocket of my jeans and p
QUINN"Some people think they're so much better than the rest of us. So much smarter." The voice behind me was all too familiar. A mix of apprehension and annoyance flooded my mind. Trish Dawson. Perfect. Just who I needed to deal with today. Clenching my jaw and kept walking. I'd learned through painful experience that ignoring girls like Trish was the only way to deal with them. It didn't make them stop, and it definitely didn't make me feel better, but pretending they didn't exist let me hold onto some dignity. "Hey, queer queen. I'm talking to you." She was closer to me than I'd thought, and so I wasn't ready when she reached around and knocked the notebooks out of my arms. I felt my face go hot as I stopped to pick up the books. This wasn't my first experiencing with being bullied; I figured they'd laugh and move away. But this time, they didn't. Trish and the other three girls formed a small, tight circle around me, all of them smirking. "What's the matter, queen
QUINNNate stood there, leaning against the door jamb with what might've looked like casual nonchalance in other guys. But I knew he did that to rest his legs after the long walk down the hallway. Rowing crew had helped Nate improve his strength, no doubt, but it couldn't take away the damage caused by the degenerative muscle disease."Hey, Nate." I smiled, craning my head back so I could see him better. "I thought you had practice today.""Canceled." His eyes flickered over to Jake. "Hey, man." "Nate, this is Gia. I've talked about her, I know, but I don't think you've met. Gia, this is my best friend in the world, Nate Wellman. He's known me since I was born, and he harbors all of my deepest, darkest secrets." I'd meant my introduction to be light and flippant, but Nate didn't so much as a crack a smile. His gaze skittered over Gia, and he gave her a brief nod. "Hey."Her eyes lit up as she looked him over, and I realized with a jolt that Gia saw something in Nate that
NATE"Nate. Hello? Earth to Nathaniel. Your mother's been talking to you for the last five minutes." I glanced up from my plate. "What?"My parents exchanged a look I was all too familiar with: worry and anxiety thinly veiled with amusement. They were wondering if me being preoccupied meant something was brewing inside me, something that could threaten my health and possibly land me in the hospital for days. And of course, along with that concern came the fear that this could be a symptom that my disease was progressing. I knew it was what they dreaded. Hell, I did, too. I'd been maintaining for so long, rolling along on a careful regiment of meds, monitored exercise and an enforced eight hours of sleep each night. It would be easy to fall into the trap of complacency, but after seventeen plus years of battling this motherfucker, health was nothing I ever took for granted. "I'm fine." I stressed the two words. "I feel great. Not hiding anything. I'm just in a bad mood. You gu
NATEMy mood didn't improve the next day. What my father had said lingered in my head, making me both angry and miserable at the same time. I avoided seeing Quinn, which was something I never did, and missing her only made me feel worse.At lunch, I ignored the cafeteria and instead went outside, planning to spend the forty-five-minute period on one of the more remote benches that were scattered here and there on the school's lawn. I shivered as the autumn wind blew down the collar of my T-shirt and kicked myself for not grabbing my jacket before I left the building. I'd just spotted an empty seat-and in the sun, no less-when Leo came loping across the grass, heading from the student parking lot toward the side doors of the school. He didn't see me at first; he had his head down and was wearing dark sunglasses. But when he did notice me, his steps slowed, and he paused just short of the sidewalk. "Hey, Nate. Everything okay?""Maybe I should be asking you that. Where were you?"
LEOUp until junior year of high school, I'd been pretty good about limiting my partying to Friday and Saturday nights. During football season, of course, Coach was strict about us sticking to a curfew during the week leading up to a Friday night or Saturday afternoon game. But there were ways around that, and I'd become an expert in figuring out those ways. This week, we were playing on Saturday, which meant no one was too worried about Thursday night. I used the excuse of a history group project meeting to convince my parents I needed to be out. In the interest of maintaining plausibility, I did go to the meeting, made some contributions ...and then when it ended, I headed over to Matt's house.Matt Lampert and I had been buddies for years. Not close friends, like Nate and Quinn and me, but more casual-the way only boys seem to be able to manage. We didn't have deep conversations, but we played baseball or soccer or football together-pick-up games, usually-and joked around, like