She opened her mouth. I kept going. “That grin you mentioned . . . you’re the only one I ever want to give it to.”

My voice cracked and so did Eliza. She threw her arms around my neck, stuffing her face into my shoulder. Her beautiful smell and warmth enveloped me.

“I—” she started.

“I know you said that wasn’t a love letter . . .” I choked.

Her shoulders shook against my chest, and soon her tears dampened my jacket. I squeezed and held her closer.

“Sorry,” she said, “I really thought this was it.”

Wetness ran down her cheeks and I grinned. “I love you.” I said it. Excitement shot from my elbows to my knees. “I did it, I finally told you.” I fist-pumped into the air. “Hell yeah!”

“I love you too, Nick.” Her laugh seeped under my skin. “Ugh, that feels so good to finally say.”

Joy twisted our fingers together as she collected her thoughts. “What about Carter, though? I don’t want to lose him either.”

“Maybe we apologize,” I said. “I tell the world I didn’t sleep with you. We make it clear that we love him too. And we wait.”

“I just . . .” she trailed off. “I want both of you.”

“Me too.” I pushed my hand through my hair. “I want this. And you. And I hope that’s good enough for him.”

“I think he just needs time. He’ll do the right thing, I know it.” Eliza kissed my cheek. “So did I tell you that I love you yet?”

Really stinking cute.

The tree’s bark caught my jacket as I backed into it, with Eliza’s chapped lips against mine. Breathing my air, Eliza slipped the letter out of my hand, allowing it to flutter to the grass. I didn’t need to read it again anyway; its contents had burned into my memory, as the taste of her had, and the subtle sound of her knotting her fingers in my hair.

She pushed her passion into me. We kissed until the sky turned purple, savoring each other until the last ray of sun had set our hearts on fire.

RULE NUMBER 22

A bro shalt cheat only on his homework. Never on an exam, a girlfriend, or himself.

Things were not the same in the weeks, then months, that followed. Carter had meant it when he said he was done. He began to treat me even worse than we treated the freshmen when we hazed them, like when they would talk to us, and we’d talk over them like we couldn’t hear them. When we walked past the froshies in the hall, we would bump into them and pretend they smelled like women’s deodorant. It had recently occurred to me that we should stop doing that.

When Carter walked by me in the hall, he didn’t react in the slightest. When I started talking at our lunch table, he waited for me to finish, and changed the subject. I would have preferred for him to be blatantly rude.