Taylor had arrived early and had rifled through her backpack, looking for the pocketknife that Luke had recently given her. Despite the protests of his conscience, he had read her journal, including the entry she had made about having prostituted. It had plagued him for the last few hours. Coming back to the car lot to find her gone had made him assume that it was not a one-time thing and that she was at it again that night.

Unaware that he had read her journal, Aria imagined that Ciarra had said something to him about it.

“Dude, I only went with her one time and it didn’t work out … Why the fuck do you even care?” Aria yelled back, taken completely by surprise by his outrage, especially given that he didn’t bother to consult her about the trajectory of his own life.

“Because you’re better than that. You’re better than her. You don’t need to go doin’ that shit.”

Taylor turned back to face the windshield, his arms crossed to protect his vulnerability. He was quietly crying.

Aria felt judged, but beneath that judgment she could clearly see from his reaction the attachment that he had to her. Feeling loved to that degree made it impossible to defend herself with an attack.

“I only did it once and it didn’t work out. I swear to God I haven’t gone back, it’s too fucked up,” Aria countered.

“You swear to God you aren’t lying to me?” Taylor said, turning around to face her again, scanning her face to determine her sincerity.

Aria said nothing further. She looked him straight in the face. Taylor started to cry again, pulling her head toward him with the crook of his elbow so as to hug her as best as he could, given the awkward position of their bodies relative to one another.

Taylor considered her to be like a little sister and the idea of her falling prey to predators behind his back was more than he could bear. “OK, just promise me,” he said, wiping the tears away from his cheeks.

“I swear to God,” Aria said, trying to wiggle out from under the pressure of his request.

“OK, ’cause I love you,” Taylor said, waiting for her to reassure him in return.

“I do too,” she said. It was not an impressive response, but it was enough for him to turn back around and position himself to go to sleep.

Aria was as uncomfortable with the pressure Taylor put on her to live up to his expectations as she was with the sudden realization that he cared so much about her. That pressure, though uncomfortable, made her feel warm inside her chest.