She had a fucking trash bag for her belongings.

That was it.

Fuck.

“Eat,” I say. “There’s a lot of food, and you don’t want it to go to waste.”

She gulps and then grabs another roll, and nods her head at me.

It’s cute, the way her cheeks turn a slight pink color.

I suddenly want to eat something very different, and I wonder if my appetite would be sated or just set on fire by the taste.

I clear my throat. “May we be excused?”

Dad tosses his napkin. “Any homework?”

“Not that I know of. Got pulled out of school right after lunch, but I’ll check online and try to get Belle updated on what classes she’ll be taking if her name and registration number is there.”

“Good man.” Dad winks. “Thanks.”

“Well, you did give me a car…” I joke.

He laughs with me, and even Belle and Mom smile.

I suddenly walk away from dinner feeling a bit more light-hearted than I did this morning and this afternoon.

Maybe I should be trying harder and not trying to make everything about me.

Belle follows me up the stairs and into the theater room; still in the dress, I can’t stop staring at it, wondering how the hell Hailey would have ever looked even a quarter as good in it.

Maybe I bought it for the right person all along—maybe it was just bad timing.

I quickly turn on something random and realize it’s the last Star Trek movie I’d been watching on repeat. I can’t remember the name of it, but clearly, Belle does because she does a little gasp and then admits. “My only dream is to go to comic con.”

She covers her mouth and shakes her head.

I actually laugh out loud. “Ah, closet nerd. Nice.”

“Yeah, hanging out with the lacrosse captain… nice.”

“Deserved that.” I admit hanging my head.

“Yup.” She leans against the leather couch, and I fight not to stare down the front of her dress like a creeper. “So, what kind of fresh hell am I going to be put through tomorrow?”

“Oh, well…” I walk over to the mini bar. “That’s gonna take a quick drink.”

“Underage drinking post wine at dinner, how very rebellious of you.”

“Yes, I’m so rebellious. I wear a tie to school every day, joined every club in existence, including fencing, and have to be the student body president my Senior year while everyone else is out living their lives… soooo rebellious, one shot of whiskey.”

I quickly make her one and clink our glasses together.

We both take it.

And then it’s quiet, the movie is in the background, and for the first time in my life, I don’t want to burn down my school or my house. I want to drive her tomorrow in that car. I want to show her off. I want her to smile more and more and more. Maybe it’s a penance from my own guilty conscience.