“I thought you and Hardin are friends?” I say.

“We are. I’m not saying anything bad about him—that’s just how Hardin is. He has sex with a different girl every weekend, sometimes more than one.”

My ears are buzzing and the fire feels too hot on my skin. I stand up before I realize what I am doing.

“Where are you going? What’s wrong?” Zed asks.

“Nothing, I just . . . I need some air. Some fresh air,” I mumble. I know how stupid that sounds but I don’t care. “Be right back, I just need a second.” I march away quickly before any of them can follow me.

What is wrong with me? Zed is sweet and he actually likes me, he enjoys my company, and yet all it takes is a mention of Hardin and I can’t stop thinking about him. I take a quick stroll around the stands and few deep breaths before walking back over to them.

“Sorry, the fire was just . . . too hot,” I lie and sit back down.

Zed has his phone out and turns the screen away from me as he slides it back into his pocket. He tells me it’s fine and we make small talk with Landon and Dakota for the next hour.

“I’m getting sort of tired, I had an early flight,” Dakota finally tells Landon, who nods.

“Yeah, I’m tired, too. We’re going to get going.” Landon stands up and helps Dakota to her feet.

“Do you want to go, too?” Zed asks me.

“No, I’m okay. Unless you want to?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cool.” We say goodbye to Landon and Dakota and watch as they disappear into the crowd.

“So what’s the reason behind the bonfire?” I ask Zed, unsure that he really knows.

“I think it’s like to celebrate the end of the football season,” he tells me. “Or the middle of it, or something . . .?” I look around and notice for the first time that a lot of people are wearing jerseys.

“Oh.” I look over at Zed. “I see it now,” I say and laugh.

“Yeah,” he says and then squints. “Is that Hardin?”

I snap my head in the direction he’s looking. Sure enough, Hardin is walking toward us with a short brunette wearing a skirt.

I scoot closer to Zed. This is exactly why I didn’t listen to Hardin on the porch—he’s already found some girl to bring here just to spite me.

“Hey, Zed,” the girl says in a high-pitched voice.

“Hey, Emma.” Zed hooks his arm around my shoulder. Hardin glares at him but takes a seat with us.

I know I am being rude by not introducing myself to this girl, but I can’t help but dislike her already.

“How’s the bonfire so far?” Hardin asks.

“Warm. And almost over, I think,” Zed replies.

There is tension between the two of them. I can feel it. I don’t know why there would be—Hardin made it clear to his friends that he doesn’t give a shit about me.

“Do they have food here?” the girl says in her annoying voice.

“Yeah, they have a concession stand,” I tell her.

“Hardin, come with me to get some food,” she demands. He rolls his eyes but stands up.

“Bring me back a pretzel, yeah?” Zed yells, smiling, and Hardin clenches his jaw.

What is up with them?

As soon as Hardin and Emma disappear I turn to Zed. “Hey, can we go? I don’t really want to hang out with Hardin; we sort of hate each other, in case you forgot.” I try to force out a playful laugh, but it doesn’t happen.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” he says. We both stand up and he reaches for my hand. We hold hands as we walk, and I find myself looking around for Hardin and hoping he won’t see.

“Do you want to go to the party?” Zed asks as we reach the parking lot.

“No, I don’t really want to go there, either.” That is the last place I want to go.

“Okay, well, we can just hang out another . . .” he begins.

“No, I still want to hang out. I just don’t want to be here or at that frat house,” I say quickly.

He looks surprised as his eyes meet mine. “Okay . . . well, we can go to my place? If you want; if not, we can go somewhere else? I actually don’t really know where else to go in this town.” He laughs and I join him.

“Your place is fine. I’ll follow you there,” I tell him.

During the drive, I can’t help but picture Hardin’s face when he returns to find us gone. He brought a girl there with him, so he has no right to be upset, but it doesn’t really ease the pang in my stomach to justify it like that.

Zed’s apartment is right off campus and is small but clean. He offers me a drink, but I decline since I plan on driving back to my room tonight.

I plop down on the couch, and he hands me the remote before going back to the kitchen to make himself a drink. “You can be in control; I don’t know what you like to watch.”

“Do you live alone?” I ask him and he nods. I feel a little awkward as he sits next to me and puts his arm around my waist, but I hide my nervousness with a smile. Zed’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he stands up to answer it. Holding a finger up to tell me he will be back, he wanders into his small kitchen area.

“We left,” I hear him say. “So . . .” “Fair.” “Too bad.” The few snippets of conversation that I catch make no sense to me . . . except the “we left.”

Is that Hardin on the phone? I stand up and walk toward the kitchen as Zed hangs up.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“No one important,” he assures me and leads me back to the couch. “I am really glad we are getting to know each other; you’re different from the rest of the girls here,” he says sweetly.