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about everything that’s happened.”
    “I’m sorry, too. I wish things had been different.”
    “Well, you can’t change the past.” I sig hed and stood up off Mike’s s oon-to-be bed, then
    looked out at the twinkli ng stars in the sky to the west; they reminded me of David—after our
    blissful night on the rooftop—and for the rest of my life, they always would.
    It’s funny really, how the night sky holds my thoughts of David, the way the blue, sunny sky
    always held my thoughts of Mike.
    “What you thinking ‘bout?” Mike interrupted.
    “Just thinking how much I’ll miss you.”
    “I’ll be there soon,” he said.
    “I know, but you’ll be gone soon, too.”
    Mike sighed.
    The sound strengthened my memory of his face; his prominent jaw, with a kind of ar rogant
    set to it that’s completely softened by his charming smile—the kind of smile that makes you a part of
    his world when he offers it to you.
    I could see his shaggy, s andy-coloured hair, how it becomes lighter in the summer, and his
    autumn-brown eyes, the way they flood with thought when he presses his lips tight under them while
    he’s playing chess—trying to figure out the next move.
    “Where are you, Ara? What worl d of thought have you slipped away to thi s time?” he asked
    in a soft, almost whisper.
    “A world I don’t want to be in—a world where I miss you.”
    “I miss you, too,” he said.
    “I miss you more.”

Chapter Three

Chapter Three
    “I’ll be back before dark,” I called to Dad, closing the lid on Vicki’s sewing box as I stuffed a
    pin into my pocket.
    “It’s going to rain—take a coat.” Dad’s voice carried down the stairs.
    Taking a quick glance at my bare arms, I shrugged and left the laundry-room, then tiptoed out
    the front door, pulling it quietly closed behind me.
    “Take a jacket,” David said sternly, standing right in front of me.
    “God! Don’t do that.” I rested my hand over the thumping pulse between my ribs. “You keep
    scaring me.”
    “Jacket.”
    “Oh, fine.” I went to walk away, then stopped and folded my arms. “Actually, no. If you want
    me to bring one— you can go get it.”
    He shook his head, his round eyes filling with agitation before a brush of wind swept my hair
    back, then he grabbed my hand and led me to the car—with my jacket over his forearm.
    “I love how you do that.”
    “Hm” is all he said.
    We sat quietly on the first half of the drive out to the lake, not a peaceful silence either—a
    deliberate one. Even if I had anything good to say to him today, he doesn’t deserve to hear it after he
    forced me to accept that dress last night.
    “Well, Vicki seems happy about your dress,” David chimed, and a flash of pure white teeth
    gleamed out through his dark-pink lips.
    “I’m sure.” I folded my arms.
    “Oh, come on, Ara? You’re not really mad, are you? It’s a dress, let it go.”
    “It’s not the dress I have a pr oblem with—” And all of a sudd en, we’re arguing, again. “I t’s
    that fact that you went behind my back, you picked through mine or Vick i’s brain until you found
    what you wanted, then you took it upon yourself to force me in a direction I didn’t want to go.”
    David smiled. “But you love the dress.”
    Even though I refused to look at his charming smile, I could still feel its warmth. It’s just so
    hard to stay mad at him. My arms dropped to my sides. “I do love the dre ss—but I’m just afraid it
    will always be like this, David. That you won’t respect my decisions.” Like the one to stay human.
    “I never thought of it that way.” David looked down at the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Ara. I
    must have misinterpreted your thoughts yesterday when we talked. I’ll…I’ll take the dress back.”
    “No. Don’t do that.” I choked on my own words . “Just...in future, even if my t houghts
    indicate the opposite, listen to me when I say no.”
    David nodded. “So, you’ll wear the