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When we’re having coffee after the meal, he places a wrapped present on the table. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. Thank you for being an amazing girlfriend.”

“Gosh, thank you! What’s the occasion?” I love gifts, especially when they’re unexpected. I run my thumb along the rich, dark ribbon. “I didn’t know you could wrap gifts.”

“Lindsey did it. And there’s no occasion. I remember you mentioned it a while back and figured you’d like it.”

I tear open the wrapper. It’s a vintage-inspired newsboy hat in a distinct shade of herringbone gray, the very same one I showed him in an Instagram story.

“Not sure if it’s the one, but it was the closest I could find.”

“Iadoreit.” I rub the material between my fingers, turning it over to admire it from a different angle. It’ll contrast nicely with my dark hair, and I have three entire outfits planned around it already.He paid attention.“Isn’t this expensive, though? You’re working so hard to save money for college and your summer trip.”

“Please. This is nothing. Let’s be happy you have a rich boyfriend, okay?” He manages to keep a straight face while mustering my exact tone, and I laugh.

But his smile fades a second too soon, and his gaze shifts to his phone when it buzzes. He silences it without checking, but I catch the tension in his shoulders, like his mind’s already drifting back to his to-do list.

“I should drive you home,” he says. “I have to get back to studying—I’m behind.”

Already?

I can offer something to pull him out of the fog. Something to make him excited again—much better than another designer gift he wouldn’t use. “Wait. I have an idea.”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for my big announcement.

“Remember I told you about my parents’ lake house? No one’s using it on Sunday.” Is there a more tactful way of approaching this? I swallow. “Maybe we can . . . you know . . .”

He studies me for a second. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Yes.”

“Because we don’t have to if—”

“I’ve given a lot of thought to it. This is what I want.”

He smiles, and it makes cute creases on his face, and then he’s not smiling anymore. “Wait, you mean tomorrow?”

That’s the beginning of all things unfortunate.

“Yeah, we can go tomorrow afternoon. It’s got lake and mountain views. There’s a deck, an outdoor Jacuzzi, a media room—”

“I have my physics test Monday morning, remember?”

“Exactly. It’s onMonday.” I laugh, even though my throat is dry, so it comes off as more of a cackle.

“Believe me, I want to, but I won’t be able to concentrate the day before. I’ll be freaking out about the test,” Sean says, as if he ever freaks out about anything.

My stomach drops. All the anticipation and hope I built up crumbles. It shouldn’t matter this much, but I feel stupid for planning it, for daring to think he might be happy about us being close inthatway. That he’d see this as something special. “We can leave in the morning, be back by afternoon. You’ll still have plenty of time to study.”

“I need the entire day tomorrow. I’m so sorry.” He looks at me like he knows he’s letting me down, but it doesn’t help.

Ever seen the movieCarrie? She’s standing onstage, glowing, crowned prom queen, then in an instant, she’s drenched from head to toe in pig’s blood. That’s me right now. “Are you serious?”

He nods and glances at his watch. He’s already checked out.

If my life were a movie, I’d hit Pause, rewind, and stop myself from making a fatal mistake. I’d lecture myself about the importance of his test and how inconsiderately I’m acting. Remind myself not to take it so personally. Sex can wait. His education can’t.

But staring at Sean across from me now, who has awhat’s the big dealfrown etched on his handsome face, bottled frustration rolls out like a knocked-over jar of marbles. He’s rejecting me despite all my efforts. I can’t do one thing right. “I can’t believe you’re turning me down.”

“Why can’t we go next week? The lake house isn’t going anywhere. This is a tough week, that’s all.”