Page 2 of Sugar Rush (Sugar Bowl 2)

When the elevator stops and the doors slide open with a soft whoosh, I bolt out and then turn left and dash for the front doors. I practically run over John, our doorman, and apologize to him as I hit the sidewalk.

The BART stop is one block down and half a block over, and luckily the sidewalks are fairly empty. It's past the morning rush hour but it hasn't hit lunchtime yet. I race around the corner of Mission and Fremont at a Mach 1 sprint, and my eyes immediately go to the bench in front of the bus stop. There's only two people there waiting, and neither of them are Sela.

My chest heaving for air, I look both ways down the street, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I squint, peer hard...willing her to appear.

Fuck...I can't even remember what she was wearing.

Totally fucking useless.

She's gone and I know it, so I start a slower paced jog back to my building. I utter another apology to John as I brush past him into the lobby, head over to the service stairwell, and take the stairs down one more flight to the garage. Sela has to be going to her apartment and I can easily beat her there by driving. I'll just be waiting at her front door for her, and hopefully by then I'll have something monumental figured out to undo this clusterfuck I've created.

TEN YEARS AGO...

"Bryce is such an asshole," Whitney says as she leans her elbows on the rail bordering the upper level of the mall. It overlooks the food court below, and the smell of greasy burgers and stale Chinese food filter upward. My nose crinkles in disgust.

"Agreed," I say as my eyes slowly roam around the upper level, checking out the action tonight. I'd already scanned the food court below, and nothing of interest was going on down there.

"He didn't say why?" she asks.

"Nope," I say calmly, although my stomach curdles when I think about the very public brush-off I got yesterday after school. Bryce and I had been dating for three months, and my face flushes with embarrassment when I think of all the proclamations of love I'd given him. He was my first real boyfriend in high school and I had fallen head over heels.

Bryce was very tall with sunny good looks that would have been common in Southern California, but only made him stand out like a beacon in our school in Menlo Park. He was the star of our basketball team, every girl wanted to be with him, and every boy wanted to be him. Some of the best days of my life were spent just strutting through the hallways between periods, my hand grasped tightly in his as he'd walk me to my next class.

It was like a dream, and I was giddy, and happy, and in love.

And then he crushed me by dumping me after school in the parking lot standing outside the driver's door of his Mustang, surrounded by his buddies. I thought he'd be driving me home as he did every day after school since basketball season was over. Instead, he simply told me, "Listen, Sela...I want to break up."

I was stunned, and sure I heard him wrong. "What?"

"It's the end of my senior year. I'm heading off to college in a few months. I don't want to be tied down, especially not with a girl as young as you. You're not going to be able to hang with me and it will just be awkward, you know?"

No, I didn't know.

I didn't understand at all.

"But I'm sixteen," I told him lamely.

"Tomorrow you'll be sixteen," he pointed out, and one of his friends snickered loudly. At least Bryce had the grace to shoot him a dirty look and a small shake of his head.

"And you're breaking up with me the day before my birthday," I said in wonder and not to him in particular, and not a question either. Just a statement as to his douchiness.

Bryce just shrugged and reached for his car door. But then, as an afterthought, he said, "Look...you're a nice kid and everything..."

I tuned him out as I turned and walked away. That's all I needed to hear from him.

He thought I was a kid.

And now my eyes roam the busy Saturday night floors of the mall, bustling with shoppers and teens just hanging out, looking to have some fun. My eyes cut over to the Gap, directly across from me, and I see three guys walk out. All in jeans, T-shirts...look about my age, maybe a little older. Two of the guys are okay, but one is really cute. He's carrying a bag in his hand and laughs at something one of his friends says. He then pauses, takes his phone out of his back pocket, and answers it. His eyes travel left as he talks with a smile on his face, sweeps across the expanse of the mall, and then his gaze lands right on me.

While he converses with whoever is on the other line, he stares at me...lips quirked upward and eyes bright with interest. I smile back at him, conveying interest because he's really, really cute with light brown hair that's worn a bit long and what looks to be brown eyes.

My pulse starts fluttering when he ends the call, says something to his friends without taking his eyes off me, then starts heading my way across the bridge that connects to the opposite sides of the second story.

Whitney is rambling on about Bryce, something about wanting to crush his nuts in a vise, but I don't pay attention to her. He gets closer, his friends following a few steps behind him.

I can tell the minute that Whitney sees him because her voice trails off with a soft, "Oh, wow."

"Hey," he says when he stops a few feet from me. His eyes cut to Whitney and then back to me. While he doesn't overtly check me out, I can tell he likes what he sees. I'm thankful for my most flattering jeans and my mom's red heels I stole out of her bedroom before I left, hiding them in my large purse while walking out the door in sedate black flats. Those now reside in my bag and the red heels add four inches to my height.

"Hey," I say back, my eyes cutting down to his bag. "Good shopping?"

He shrugs, and it's very cool, I think. "Just killing time. We're getting ready to head out to a party."

"Cool," I say, hoping I sound cool and not lame.

"I'm Dallas," he says, and then nods to his friends. "That's David and Blake."

I turn slightly and grab Whitney's hand, pulling her forward to stand beside me. "This is Whitney...my best friend."

Dallas nods to her and his buddies turn away from us, both checking out their phones. Neither one of them looked at Whitney twice, which I don't get. She's really pretty with auburn hair and soft brown eyes.

But then Dallas makes me forget that when he leans in toward me and says, "Want to go to the party with us?"

"Where is it?" I ask casually, trying not to sound excited.

But I'm so excited. This is exactly what I was looking for tonight. Some type of validation that I'm interesting and worthy of a man's notice.

"It's over in Atherton," he says. "Some rich dude's house. My sister goes to college with him."

The way he says "rich dude" leads me to believe that Dallas is not rich himself, but that doesn't bother me. He's very cute and he looks at me like he doesn't see a kid.

"Sounds fun," I chirp at him. "Right, Whitney?"

"Um, I can't," Whitney says. "My curfew's at ten P.M."

Bummer. My parents said I could stay out until midnight since it was my birthday.

"Excuse me a minute," I say to Dallas, and pull Whitney five paces away. I lean in toward her and whisper, "Come on, Whitney. I really want to go. Call your mom and tell her you're staying the night with me."

She shakes her head and looks at me with worried eyes. "No way. Last time we tried that and got busted, I was grounded for a week. And besides...we don't know these guys."

My eyes cut over to Dallas, who is looking down at his phone.

So freakin' cute. Way cuter than Bryce.

"He's nice," I say. "And it will be fun, and besides...it's my birthday. The birthday girl gets to do what she wants."

"No, Sela," she says adamantly. "I don't want to get in trouble, and you shouldn't go off with strangers. It's dangerous."

Something deep in my brain acknowledges the truth of this statement, but I push it aside. I'm sixteen, a hot guy is interested in me, and I want to see what the night holds. I'm feeling adventurous and

a little vindictive, imagining having fun on my birthday with Dallas and relishing in being able to show up at some function in the near future with him on my arm and Bryce being jealous.

"I'm going," I tell Whitney resolutely. "And I really wish you'd come."

"Sela, don't," she implores me.

Turning away from her, I tell Dallas, "I have to be home by midnight. I live in Belle Haven."

"Not a problem," he says with a charming grin, and it wouldn't be. It's only a few miles away, and if worse came to worst, I could always cab it. I had the cash that Mom and Dad gave me for my birthday celebration with Whitney and so far, we'd only bought an ice cream tonight.

"Last chance," I say resolutely to Whitney with my head tilted to the side.

"This is not a good idea," she warns me, but my decision is made.

Impulsively, I reach out and hug her. "I'll be fine."

She gives me a wan smile but it doesn't really project. She's worried and miffed I'm doing this, but I'm too filled with excitement to even care at this point. I turn toward Dallas and I'm beyond giddy when he takes my hand in his.

"Come on, gorgeous," he says as we start to walk away. "This will be a night to remember."

I totally know it will. Grandiose ideas fill my head of Dallas coming by my school to see me; maybe taking me to the spring dance. I swear I won't strut too much as we walk by Bryce and his mouth hangs open in disbelief. I look over my shoulder to see Whitney chewing on her bottom lip with worry, and I wave. She doesn't return it.

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