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“Trying to control everything and everyone to make sure nothing bad ever happens. Driving everyone nuts.”

“I’m trying to take responsibility for what I did so it never happens again. Isn’t that what growing up is?”

“You’re asking me? I still sleep with stuffed animals.”

Oh,nowshe’s trying to lighten the mood. “You realize needing surgery right before my senior season is the first thing that’s gone wrong in my life since the car accident? That’s four years of me getting what I want again and again.”

“You mean getting what you think Anthony wanted.”

“No,” I snap. “I mean ... yeah. We wanted the same things, and I got all of it.”

She shifts in her seat, looking at the road in front of us. “It’s not your fault his life has turned out the way it has.”

“Actually, it is. In some ways, it really is.”

“Maybe. But he would have found alcohol and weed and everything else without you. Just because you were the first to let him try it doesn’t make you responsible for everything that came after.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t have found it. Or he’d have waited until he was older and had more sense.”

“Ant was never going to be an angel. He was trouble long before he tasted beer. You’re trying to make him faultless, but he never was.”

“He was just a kid.”

“So were you! You rewrite history, Lorenzo, and when you do, you hand him more excuses to treat you like shit.”

“I’d act the same way if the situation was reversed.”

“Would you? Doesn’t seem like you. You manage to love him even though he’s not perfect.”

“Nobody is.”

“Right. So maybe you can manage to forgive yourself even if you’re not faultless.”

“I’ll forgive myself when I’ve done what I need to do.”

“You mean when you’re in the pros and Anthony’s not? You think you’ll feel better then?”

I glare at the road. “You’re a hard-ass.”

“I’ve been spending too much time with you.”

I smile reluctantly. I always think of Ruby as flitting from one thing to the next, riding the constant highs and lows of her emotions, forever chaotic and messy. But it’s not always like that. When I’m the hothead, here she is keeping me steady. We take care of each other. We always have.

“We’re both the same,” she says. “Everything we do keeps us tied to this place, no matter how hard we try to get away. It just looks a lot better on you.”

Maybe it is that simple. People think it’s funny how different Ruby and I are, but really, they’re looking at only the symptoms. The disease is the same. Almost every significant moment in my life, she was part of. And the few she wasn’t, she knows because I have to tell her things only once before she sees them the same way they play out in my head.

When she turns toward the window, I look at her, and that’s when it hits me: This is what everyone wants.

I have someone who gets me, someone who has my back unconditionally. Someone who makes the shitty times fun. Someone who’s beautiful and wants me and is a great fucking kisser on top of it all. Maybe this is why I can’t keep my eyes off her lately. Because what if this is my girl right here?

What does it matter if the timing isn’t what I thought it would be? Here she is.

Maybe this is my girl.

TWENTY

lorenzo