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T he next day, I sit on the edge of a futon in a dimly-lit off-campus apartment. It’s a marching band party. I came with Jax and his roommate Liam. A marching band party. Apparently I’m a sucker for Jax. This is moving way too fast, now that it’s finally moving .

Because I’ve always loved him, I think. And then I want to smack myself .

“I thought you said that Bud Light tastes like stale water with an aftertaste of vomit?” Jax asks me .

I glance down at the silver can in my hand. “I was thinking I’d use alcohol as a cover for releasing my inhibitions .”

“What?” he asks, bending down so that his voice comes out too loud into my ear. “I can barely hear you over the music .”

“That’s probably for the best .”

“I’ll be right back,” he promises me, and I wince at how loud he is, but smile back anyway .

In a few minutes, he’s back, swinging a six-pack of hard lemonade .

He holds out a hand. “I seriously can’t handle this. Can’t even talk in here. Come with me ?”

When I slip my hand into his, his fingers press firmly into the base of my wrist, and there’s something so familiar and so intimate about it that I shiver. Keep it together, Ash. You know all about hand-to-hand combat and ghosts, but you don’t know thing one about how to handle a guy. You’re going to ruin everything. Don’t be stupid .

My inner voice rebels against my downer brain’s chatter and says: Be stupid .

Jax leads me out onto the narrow wrought iron balcony off the apartment .

“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t think drinking plus heights are a good idea .”

“I’ll protect you from yourself,” he promises me .

“It’s never worked before. Where’d you get the sixer ?”

“Liam got Rebecca to buy it. You know it cost me twenty bucks ?”

“That’s with the friends and family discount? Terrible .”

“So you’d better relish it,” he says, twisting the top off a bottle for me .

“Oh, I will. You too,” I say. “I know I’m just your cover. Your excuse. You don’t like beer either .”

“You know what my dad always says about drinking,” he says .

It begins to rain, soft drops splattering intermittently on the cement floor. I find myself grinning at the timing, to have the rain begin the second we step outside. But it’s quiet here, with the white-silver moon hanging low over the trees, and I don’t want to go back inside .

“I don’t, actually .”

“He says it doesn’t matter how much you drink. Just who you drink with .”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a point where it matters. Like a point where you die .”

“You are the biggest downer .”

“I know, you don’t want a reminder of the foolishness of underage drinking whilst engaged in the act .”

“Whilst? You’re taking college to heart, smarty- pants .”

“If I were smart,” I say, “I think I would feel like I knew what I was doing. At least sometimes .”

Jax looks at me seriously, and I have the feeling he’s about to say something fond and wise, but a raindrop falls directly into his eye. He doubles over, his face scrunching. I start laughing and can’t stop .

“I hate you, Landon,” he says, his eyes downcast to the floor, as if he doesn’t want to risk another raindrop attack. “How can that hurt so much ? God .”

“You don’t really hate me.” I step close into him, putting my hands above his eyes like a visor, shielding him from the rain. The rain splatters down on my head, ruining the flat-iron job I did, beginning to soak my blouse. We should go inside. But instead I stand there, with my hands framing his eyes. The cold settles into my skin and yet between us, I feel the heat of his body. His eyes are warm, intent on mine. There’s something new in his face, something fond, a tiny trace of a smile on his lips .

Jax’s hands wrap around my hips. Now we’re locked into this position, face-to-face. When he grins at me, the faint dimple in his right cheek shows. I smile back, encouraging him, although I feel terrified too. This is where it can all start to go wrong. I’m not relationship material .

But I want him. From that particular warm voice, to the way his lips quirk up when I say something ridiculous, to the way he walks me to my door and doesn’t expect anything from me, he’s all too good .

I can’t live without him now that I know he’s here, and not just as friends. I want him to kiss me. I need him to kiss me. And now that I’ve come this far, I’m afraid to make the first move, in case somehow I’ve misunderstood everything .

The patio door slides open behind us .

“You guys,” Liam says, “You might have noticed this, but it’s raining. And you are being weird .”

Jax’s hands slide quickly away from my body; by the time Liam has shut up, I’m standing there alone, with Jax’s arms folded guiltily over his chest. I push wet hair back behind my ears. I must look like such a mess. Why does Liam care? Why does he have to interrupt us ?

“Not being weird,” Jax says. “I just like the rain. I’m a pluviophile .”

“A pluviophile?” I repeat dutifully, following Jax as he leads the way back into the noise of the party .

“It’s someone who loves rain,” Jax says, rather unnecessarily. “You want to go call next for the beer pong table? We’ll play winner ?”

“Sure,” I say, because the magic is broken. Tonight might be fun, but we aren’t going to trade kisses or confessions .

I’m both bitterly disappointed and relieved. And I wonder if he feels the same way .