Badly.

Jesus, being friends with this girl was a helluva lot easier when I was ten.

Eighteen, horny, and her looking like that was not the best combination. Still, I remained right beside her, sticking to the girl like glue.

"We definitely would've gone to homecoming together," she offered teasingly. "And winter formal – and prom." She sighed in contentment. "Both junior and senior year."

I cocked a brow. "Oh, you think?"

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"Yeah, fair point." I agreed with a sigh. "And we probably would have dated all through middle and high school."

Her eyes widened. "You think so?"

"Of course," I replied. "We would’ve been serious, too – right up until I fucked it up and you dumped me just before we went off to college."

"Obviously." She snickered. "And I would have been your first kiss."

"And my second," I agreed, knowing that she absolutely would have been. Hell, I'd thought about kissing her enough times.

"And your third." She laughed. "So, who was your first kiss?"

I grimaced at the memory. "Ashley Thomas."

"Uh!" She feigned hurt. "You broke your promise."

"Huh?"

"You promised me that you would never kiss Ash."

"Shit." A weird flood of guilt filled my stomach. "I'm sorry."

"Be sorry to yourself. Ew." Molly shuddered and then choked out a laugh. "You tongued one of the Barbies. Gross. I bet she tasted like glitter and puppy dogs."

"In my defense, I only kissed her because Rourke begged me to," I offered with a chuckle. "He was dating Britt and needed a wing man."

"Well, it sucks to be your lips."

"Tell me about it," I chuckled before asking, "Who was yours?"

She rolled her eyes. "The man in the moon."

I frowned. "Huh?"

"Look at me, D," she grumbled, reaching up to play punch my arm. "Do I look like I've been kissed a lot?"

Yeah, but fuck, I hoped she hadn't.

"Come on, Molls," I pushed, curiosity piqued. "I told you mine."

"I can't tell you," she finally said and then laughed at my outraged expression. "Seriously, I can't."

I rolled my eyes. "Because it's a big secret?"

"No…" she drawled slowly. "Because it hasn't happened yet."

"What?"

"Hey, don’t look at me like that," she huffed. "It's not a big deal."

"But you're eighteen."

"And deformed," she was quick to point out. "If you haven't noticed that by now, then you seriously need to consider getting your eyes tested, D."

"Don't do that," I warned, narrowing my eyes. "Don't put yourself down like that."

"Whatever." She sighed. "It's no big deal."

"It is to me," I replied. She was saying the words about herself but they cut me just as deeply. "Don't do it, 'kay?"

"Yeah." She swallowed deeply, brown eyes glued to my face. "’Kay, Daryl."

She was watching me with those big brown eyes that always made me feel at ease.

Not tonight.

Not any night since the night she was taken from me.

I wanted to tell her that she was so fucking beautiful. That I'd never seen anyone so goddamn pretty, but she had a hard time hearing my truths. It wouldn’t matter anyway. I'd caused this girl a helluva lot of hurt. The most I could possibly hope for was friendship and I was pushing my luck with that. It didn’t stop me from wanting to make everything better, though. In my drunken stupor, all I could think about was how Molly deserved the best senior year ever.