April's romper is so short, that as we sit on the train with my friends, I'd be surprised if her ass wasn't touching the seat. I love it on her - it's red and floral, with a diamond-shaped cutout a few inches above her belly button. It ties at the chest, which means she doesn't wear a bra with it. Typically, I don't notice how skimpy it is, unless I'm admiring that fact. Only reason it's being called to my attention right now is because Owen has been staring at her for the past ten minutes.

Luckily, she hasn't picked up on it. She's too busy winding herself around me like a snake, in the way she loves to do. In her mind, our bodies should always be touching in as many places as possible.

"Baby," she says softly, stroking my facial hair. She's pressed up against my side, one arm over my chest to hold the opposite shoulder. Her other arm is wrapped behind my neck, making sure no space comes between us. She's warm, smooth, and a bit sweaty. But it's over 90 degrees outside; I can't blame her. And either way, I don't mind. I'm used to her sweat by now.

"Hmm," I say, as her thumb grazes my lower lip.

"What're you looking at?"

I can't believe Owen doesn't feel my eyes. He's staring at her open skin so unabashedly that even if April weren't my girlfriend, I'd tell him to cool it. It's borderline creepy.

I pat the outside of her left hip, the skin warm under my fingers. I turn my head, looking away from Owen and into April's eyes. They tend to change color in different lights, and right now under the fluorescents of the train, they're close to being steely gray.

"You," I say with a smile, and she returns it. She rubs my shoulder and tucks her head in the crook of my neck, cuddling as close as she can. I pat her hip again, closer to her ass this time, and feel her giggle. "I'm always lookin' at you."

"Good," she says, picking up her head again. She kisses my jaw then runs her hands through my hair, carding her fingers through the dense curls. "You need a trim," she tells me.

"I'll get one soon," I say.

"I'm getting highlights on Saturday," she says, tracing the collar of my shirt. "You should come with me, then my girl could probably fit you in. I don't usually take that long."

"Alright," I say, kissing her cheekbone.

"You're gonna go to a women's salon to get your hair trimmed, Avery?" Mark cuts in from across the aisle.

"What's wrong with that?" April retorts, speaking before I can. Her hand flattens on my chest as she looks to Mark, who's wearing a bemused expression. "It's just a haircut."

"It's not like I'm gonna get a Brazilian," I say, making a joke out of it.

"Yet," Derek mutters.

All the guys snort and laugh, but I just roll my eyes. "Ignore them," April says, turning away to rest her head on my shoulder. "You can tell they all get theirs cut at a $5 barber. You always look the best."

"Thanks, boo," I say, narrowing my eyes at them.

When our stop comes, we all walk down the stairs together - with Mark and Derek in the front, Owen, Alex, and Ben in the middle, and me and April bringing up the rear. She tucks her hand into mine, intertwining our fingers, and walks close. "How long do you think they'll stay?" she asks, glancing up at me as we all make our way down the sidewalk towards mine and Alex's apartment.

"I don't know," I say. "We didn't really set a time…"

"It's just that I'm kinda tired," she says.

"You don't have to stay, Spike," I say, using my pet name for her. I made it up because whenever we take showers together, I love turning her hair into a giant spike. It always makes me laugh, and she always lets me. "I won't be mad."

"I know…" she says. "But I wanna be with you. Maybe we could watch Say Anything again."

Say Anything is her favorite movie in the world. "I invited them over, though," I say, wedged between a rock and a hard place. "And you said you were cool with it. Remember, I asked you on Thursday?"

"Yeah," she says, a bit pouty as she rubs my hand with her thumb. "I know. I guess I just feel like being with you."

"You will be with me," I say, squeezing her fingers. "It just so happens that the guys'll be there, too."

She shrugs, then doesn't bring it up again. We get to mine and Alex's place and go upstairs, each of my friends finding their usual place in the living room. Mark starts up the Xbox and doles out the controllers, and I have to ignore the exasperated look that April gives me. I promised the guys tonight. We haven't hung out in forever. They didn't want April to join in the first place, so this is somewhat of a compromise in the first place. I can't tell them to put the game up because she hates the sound of it. That'll ruin everything.

I almost expect her to say something outright, about how she doesn't like the violence and the loud gunfire, but she doesn't. She just makes a cup of tea and sits on the couch behind where I am on the floor, and stays quiet. Alex and Derek are the loudest out of all of us, cursing and swearing when things go wrong, and cheering ferociously when they get ahead.

"Fuck yeah!" Alex roars, bursting from his chair. "Take that, pussy boy."

"Shut up and get back to breastfeeding," Owen says.

"I'll get back to breastfeeding," Alex says. "On your mom."

With that, April stands up from the couch. "I'm tired," she says, just to me. "I'm going to bed."

I look up at her from the floor. "Alright," I say.

"Avery, your guy's about to fuckin' eat shit if you don't press A."

I try to ignore Ben. "You okay?" I ask April.

She glances around the room, then lets her eyes roam back to me. "Yeah," she says with a sigh. "Just… can you come up and say goodnight to me in a sec?"

"Sure," I say.

"Avery, jump!"

I press A repeatedly, then look to April who's still lingering. "I'll be up," I promise, then give her a smile. She doesn't give one back before walking upstairs.

After she leaves, Derek talks while still staring at the screen. "Does baby need you to tuck her in?" he asks, smirking while talking in a baby voice. "Maybe she needs help with her jammies, too."

"Yeah, seriously," Alex chimes in. "How old is she? 5?"

"It's just something we do," I say, trying to concentrate on the game as I'd fallen behind.

"She's needy as fuck, dude," Alex says, shaking his head. "I could not deal with that shit."

"I don't deal with it…" I say.

"Yeah, you bend over and take it," Mark says, laughing.

"No," I say defensively. "It's just how she is."

"Well, 'just how she is' is annoying," Alex says. "I wanna know when you're gonna dump that ass."

"When you do, I call first," Owen says, and I jab him in the ribs.

"Fuck off," I say.

"Just saying," Owen says. "Redheads are attracted to each other. We gotta keep the lineage going."

"If you don't shut your bitch-ass mouth…" I say.

He just laughs, though. None of them find me intimidating, no matter how hard I try.

"Baby?" I hear, April's voice drifting down the stairs.

Ben looks over from where he sits by the coffee table. He raises his eyebrows and whispers in a high falsetto, "Baby?"

"Fuck you," I mouth, then call, "Coming, Spike."

I set my controller down and weave through the living room, climbing the stairs once I reach them. The door to my bedroom is open with yellow light flooding the hallway, and when I peek inside, I see April cozy on her side of the bed. It's technically only my bed because she doesn't live here, but we're over at each other's places so often that it's basically like we share.

Her hair is brushed and fanned out on the pillow like a halo, and she's wearing one of my t-shirts; a maroon Loyola one. "There you are," she says, extending her arms.

"I'm here," I say, crawling onto the bed and falling into her arms. If it wouldn't get me endless shit from my friends downstairs, I'd fall asleep with her. She smells so good and her body is so warm and welcoming, it's tempting.

"Missed you," she says cutely, lips moving against my forehead.

"Missed you," I say back.

I pick my head up in preparation to tell her that I should get back downstairs, but the look in her eyes reels me in. I cup her jaw with one hand and kiss her lips, taking a deep breath from my nose as she slips her tongue into my mouth and curls one leg around both of mine to yank me closer. I smile against her and tangle my fingers in her hair, scratching her scalp with my fingernails as she lifts her hips to bump mine - letting me know without words what she wants.

"Real quick?" she asks breathily.

"Yeah," I say, shimmying my shorts down as far as they need to go. I push the duvet away and find that, when she lifts the hem of the t-shirt, she's not wearing any underwear. "Mmm, shit," I say, kissing her neck. I open my mouth over her pulse point and her body responds, quivering under mine as she widens her thighs.

I push inside her all at once and she traps me, knees closing in on my hips as she bends her legs up. Each time I pump into her, she moans in the way I love, right by my ear. Her sounds turn rhythmic as they match my body movements, and I know she's close when she digs her nails deep into my shoulder blades.

"Harder," she breathes. "Harder… harder!"

I slam my body into hers and bite my lower lip, trying to keep my orgasm at bay until she has hers. She lifts her hips to meet mine again and again, still whimpering and keening, until it happens. She freezes, inner muscles spasming and tightening, until she grabs my face and crashes her mouth to mine. As we're connected in more ways than one, I come inside her and keep kissing her until we're both spent.

"Oh, shit," she says as I pull out. She throws her arms onto the pillow above her, blinking sleepily in my direction. "You're the best, baby." I shoot her a cocky half-smile, propped up on one elbow. "Kiss me," she says, puckering her lips.

I thumb her nipples and kiss her senseless until she's too exhausted to kiss me back. When her lips go slack and her breath comes slower, I pull away to see that her eyes are closed and her chest is rising and falling steadily. I smile gently and pull my t-shirt down to keep her decent, then cover her up with the duvet.

I clean up quickly in the bathroom, then head downstairs to rejoin the guys. As soon as I sit back down in my spot, Mark's eyes dart over with a glint in them. "Oh, Jackson!" he moans, pitching his voice higher. "Harder! Harder!"

"Oh, oh, oh, oh my god!" Derek mocks, squealing out moans that I assume are meant to copy April's from moments ago.

"Uhhhhhhhh!" Alex cries, head thrown back.

"Damn. Could she be any more dramatic?" Ben asks, scoffing.

"I thought it was fuckin' hot," Owen says.

"Leave her alone," I grumble, trying to concentrate on the game.

"So that's what 'saying goodnight' was, huh?" Mark says.

"Oh, yeah," Alex says. "You didn't know?" He raises his eyebrows and lets a puff of air from his lips. "Yeah. Try hearing it every other night."

"Stop listening, then," I say.

"Kinda hard when your precious girlfriend is moaning the walls down," Alex says. "I think, at this point, I could give her an orgasm just as well as you can. I know everything she likes 'cause I have to fuckin' hear it all the time!"

"Shut up," I say, but without much gumption behind the words.

"You're pussy whipped, bro," Derek says, talking to me without looking over. "She owns your ass."

"He's right," Ben says. "You gotta grow a pair. She runs your life."

"So?" I say.

"So?" Alex repeats. "Honestly? You want a chick running your life at 22? Dude, you're not dead. You don't have to be tied to her. You're way too young for that. I'd be surprised if she didn't propose to you down on one knee, in like, the next year. You don't fuckin' want that! You need to experience all the college pussy. Not just one ginger bush."

"Quit," I say, but his words do hold some weight. I met April when we were freshmen, almost four years ago, and haven't been with another girl since. The last girl I slept with before her was during my senior year of high school, and that feels like forever ago. I can barely remember what it was like.

"Imagine this. You don't take our advice and you stay with Kepner forever. You guys get engaged, get married, have like, twelve kids. Then, you're 40 without a purpose in life. Just getting up, going to work, coming home, having no sex, going to sleep, and doing it all again the next day. And the next. And the next. That sounds like fuckin'... I don't know, that sounds like torture to me," Mark says. "You gotta get out there and see what there is. Try new shit. If you don't, you're gonna get stuck, and you're gonna hate your life in 20 years. You will. Trust me. Happened to my dad and he went through this whole midlife crisis. I don't want that for you."

"It won't be like that," I say.

"It totally will be," Derek says, and Ben nods. "She's gonna trap you. And you're not gonna be able to leave once she gets pregnant."

"And believe me, it'll happen," Alex says.

I stay quiet for a long time, staring ahead while my mind goes crazy with battling thoughts. I love April. But what if they're right? What if staying with one person forever makes me bored once I hit middle age? Maybe I do need to go crazy right now, to get it out of my system. It'll be better for everyone in the long run.

She does control a lot of aspects of my life. I guess I just never looked twice, thinking it was normal. But maybe it's not. Maybe, for once, I need to step out on my own to see what it feels like.

"But how would I go about it?" I ask, speaking up in the middle of my thoughts.

"Huh?" Ben says.

"I couldn't…" I sigh. "It would really hurt her."

"Wait," Alex says, sitting up straight. "Are you really considering this?"

I shrug. "I don't wanna hate myself when I'm 40."

"Just tell it to her like it is," Mark says, madly pressing buttons on the controller. "She's a big girl. She can get mad, or just take it. Her choice. But it's your life, dude. She's toxic."

"She's not toxic," I say.

"To you, she is," Alex says.

"Not to me," Owen says, and I frown in his direction.

"If I end things, you are not allowed to get with her," I say sternly. "Don't."

"Well, I might fuck her," Owen says.

"You won't," I say. "You will not."

"Avery is so serious about dumping her!" Alex says, sounding way too excited. "Bro… I never thought this day would come. I never have to hear that whiny voice again."

"I… I don't know," I say. "I really don't know."

"No, trust your gut," Mark says. "You're obviously thinking about it. And now that you've thought about it, there's no going back."

"You gotta break it off with her, man," Ben says.

I rest my elbows on my knees and hold my face in my hands, staring at the carpet. I don't want to get stuck. I don't want to be unhappy. I always thought I was happy, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe there's a level I haven't even reached yet. "Yeah," I say, defeated. "I guess I do."

…

The next day, all the guys are gone and Alex makes himself scarce so I can do what I need to do. I hate doing it as soon as she wakes up, but I know that if I wait, I'll just keep putting it off.

I'm sitting at the end of the bed when she stirs, then she crawls over and wraps her arms around my waist from behind. She lays her sleepy head down between my shoulder blades and curls her warm body around me, and for a minute I lose my resolve. The guys don't see her like this, like she is right now, my sweet little Spike.

But I guess I don't see her like they do; the controlling, manipulative, apparently toxic, needy girlfriend.

"Baby," I say, rubbing her hands with mine. I haven't turned around yet. I can't bear to look at her face - her soft, tired eyes, lips pouty with sleep, her skin a little dewy. I can't. "We gotta talk."

"Mm-hmm," she says, nodding against my back.

"Like, a serious talk," I say, mouth going dry as my stomach turns.

"Huh?" she says, sounding a bit more wakeful. "About what?"

I take a deep breath, bracing myself. "About us," I say.

She picks herself up and gives me a chance to turn around, which I take. I'd be a coward if I didn't. We sit on the bed facing each other, and I have trouble meeting her eyes. They're already glassy and welled with tears, her lower lip trembling; how does she know what's coming?

"What?" she whimpers.

"I think… I think we should take a break," I say, exhaling loudly after.

"What?" she peeps again. "Jackson. Why?"

One tear falls from each eye. "I just think it's a smart choice," I say. "We've been together, you know, for four years-"

"Three years, seven months, and… four days," she says, doing the math quickly.

"Yeah," I say. "And… it's just, it's college. I feel like we should both get out there. You. You, too. You gotta experience more than just me, Spike."

"I don't want to," she says adamantly. "All I want is you. You aren't making any sense. I thought you were happy… I thought we were. We just had sex last night. Was it all… has this all been fake, Jackson?" She hastily wipes her eyes, sniffling loudly.

"No!" I say, insistent to let her know that. "No, not at all. I love you-"

"Then why are you saying all this?" she asks desperately. "If you love me, then why don't you want me around anymore?"

"It's because I love you," I say. "I want you to see more. Have more than just me. You deserve that."

"No," she says. "I don't want it. I don't understand. I thought… I thought…" She sniffles again.

"It's a big world out there," I say. "And we're so young."

"So?" she prompts. "So? I don't get it. You've never said anything like this before. Where did it come from?"

"I've just been doing some thinking."

Her eyes dart around as her brain connects the dots. Then, she looks at me with a hardened expression, though still crying. "Bullshit," she says, teeth bared a she spits out the word.

"No-"

"It was them," she says. "Your idiot friends. They put this in your head, didn't they?"

"No," I say. "It wasn't like that. It was-"

"Don't lie to me," she says, standing up and ripping the t-shirt off over her head. With her back turned, she steps into the romper from last night. It's wrinkled now, but she pays no mind.

"Well, that's who I was talking to about it, yeah," I admit.

"Spineless," she says, picking up her backpack. "You're spineless, if all it takes is them riding your ass. If that matters more than me, who loves you so much and was always loyal to you, then fine. Fine. I don't care. Let's be done. But you're a piece of shit, and so are they. Why don't you hook up with one of them, if you wanna see what's out there so bad?"

"Spike…"

"Stop it!" she shrieks, jutting one arm out to keep me at bay. I can't get near her. She won't let me. "We're done. That's what you want. Don't try to make it better." She puts both straps of her bag onto her shoulders and stalks out the door. "Bye, Jackson."

I collapse onto the foot of my bed, watching her go without having any agency over anything. I hear the front door slam shut, and the word 'goodbye' catches in my throat. Given what the guys told me last night, I should be feeling relieved right now, but I'm not. I don't feel anything close to positive. I feel like there's been a hole sawed through the middle of my life, and now it's flapping in the wind, gaping and offensive.

All I can hope for is that I made the right decision. And that time will fix this.

…

A few days later, when the guys hear that I went through with it, they insist on taking me out. I don't really want to go; I haven't wanted to do much of anything since breaking it off with April. I keep checking my phone, hoping to see some activity from her while knowing that I won't. She's stubborn. She was the one who got slighted, so there's no way she'll come crawling back. I miss her name lighting up my screen, that's all I know. Maybe that'll fade. Hopefully, soon I'll stop looking for her everywhere.

But the guys take me out and I don't put up much of a fight. If I want to get over her, I actually have to try. I have a few drinks and try to join them in playing darts and shooting some pool, but my heart isn't in it. I eventually let them go on without me while I sit at the bar, nursing a flat rum and Coke.

"Are you here alone?" someone asks, and I look over my shoulder to see a blonde bombshell to my right. She has big, blue eyes, and unbearably pink lips. She's not anything like April. Maybe she's what I need.

"Yeah," I say. "Have a seat."

I buy her a drink. I ask her where she's from, what she does. I take all the necessary steps - except learning her name. I don't want to know. I'm not going to date her; I'm just going to fuck her, and I think she knows that. And I'm pretty sure she's okay with it; she definitely gets where things are going, because she doesn't ask for my name, either. But she lets me pay the tab and gets in the back of a cab with me, where she immediately starts rubbing on my thigh.

The physical contact makes me think of April's closeness in public. We never got sexual in front of others, but she always was on me in some way. Though this reminds me of that, I try to force it from my mind. I can't think about her. It's counterproductive.

This girl continues to rub my thigh, then moves inward to my crotch. My dick twitches, awoken by female touch that it hasn't had for a while, and I try to relax. But my brain won't slow down or shut up.

"Maybe not here," I say. I feel put on the spot. What if the driver looks in the mirror and sees us? That would kill me. At home, I can do better. "We're almost there."

"Okay," she says, then winds her arms around my shoulders to kiss my neck.

My body doesn't buzz. My hair doesn't stand on end, and my chest doesn't warm up. I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I pay the cabbie and lead the girl into mine and Alex's apartment. I'm not sure if he's here, but I don't bother checking before I take her to my room and lock the door. She starts to undress right away, but I go slower. The doubts start to creep in, no matter how unwelcome. Should I ask for her name? By not asking, am I debasing her? But I really don't want to know. After this is over, I don't want to think about her. And if I learn her name, I'll be forced to think about her.

"Come here, handsome," she says, and when I snap out of my reverie I notice that she's completely naked and perched in the middle of my bed. Her boobs are big, too-round, and fake. Seeing them makes me miss April's - the left one a little smaller than the right, with such a wide space in between. The perfect place to rest my head.

"Be right there," I say, shaking my head to clear it. I strip and join her, crawling over her unfamiliar body. When I lower to rest on top of her, she's hard and bony in all the wrong places. Nothing about this is comfortable. Awkwardly, I try to kiss her, only to get lip gloss all over my face.

"How 'bout you just fuck me?" she says, pulling on my earlobes.

"Sure," I say, then reach for a condom. I turn around, embarrassed as I try to slip it on my limp dick, and struggle for a while. I've never had to do it like this before. Covertly, I try to stroke myself a few times to get it up, but nothing works. "Fuck," I hiss.

"Is there something wrong?" she asks.

"Um…" I say, looking over my shoulder. I toss the condom to the side and try to jack myself off again, hoping to get something from it. But I'm not excited. I don't want to have sex, and I'm not turned on. I just want to sleep. "Yeah."

"What is it?"

I sigh and sit down, abandoning the mission. "I think you should just go," I say, letting my head fall into my hands. "I'm really sorry, but this was a mistake. It's not you, I promise."

"Sure," she says tersely, standing up to grab her things. "You really know how to treat a lady, don't you?"

"Yeah…" I breathe, slumping over after she's gone. "I sure do."

…

I don't bother telling the guys the truth about how it went. I don't want to hear what they'll say in response. Instead, I let them take me to a house party on campus in hopes to find someone more my type. I don't have high expectations, but I figure it can't get much worse. I might as well try. It's been almost two weeks since the sad dick fiasco, and I think that should be enough time to bounce back.

The house is loud. Louder than I anticipated. As soon as we walk in, the bass finds its way into my bloodstream and roots itself there, partnering with my heartbeat. I let myself get lost in the way it feels as I weave through throngs of people on the way to the kitchen, then come back out with a beer. All the guys have dispersed, so I take to watching the crowd from the stairs where I have a good vantage point.

When my drink is about halfway gone, I see her. It hadn't even crossed my mind that she'd be here tonight, she's not usually a partier and she doesn't like loud music or a lot of people in one place. So, the fact that she's in the middle of the living-room-turned-dance-floor grinding on some guy knocks me way off balance.

I set my cup down and stand up, hands braced on the railing. I concentrate for a while, making sure it's really April, and when she turns around, I'd recognize that tipsy smile anywhere. The outfit, though, not so much. She's wearing a white denim miniskirt and a barely-there blue halter top. I've never seen her in something like that, but my body responds for the first time in what feels like ages. Fuck.

Her hair is up in a messy bun, pulled away from her neck. The guy she's grinding on - the one I can't quite see yet - has his face tucked there, it's the perfect spot. I should know. I used to rest my lips in the crook of her neck all the time, especially when we danced close. Even from far away, I can practically smell the sweet scent that was always on her skin.

She keeps dancing, and if I thought I was angry before, I'm furious when I see the guy she's dancing with is nobody else but Owen. Faster than I can make a conscious decision, I hurry down the stairs two at a time until I'm in the middle of the dancing partygoers, pissing people off as I push my way through them to get to her.

Once I reach April, I take her wrist to yank her away from someone who I thought was my friend. She stumbles, following me back through the crowd, until we reach a quiet spot by the door.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she spits.

I'm still holding her wrist. Not forcefully, but my fingers are wrapped all the way around. It feels so good to touch her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I say, eyes bulging.

"Dancing," she says, then rips her arm away to hold it close to her chest.

"With Owen?"

She narrows her eyes and they darken as she does. "I'm not your girlfriend anymore, Jackson," she tells me, and each word cuts deep and stings. "Leave me alone."

"Are you sleeping with him?" I ask, but she's already turned away, heading back to the dance floor. "April!"

She doesn't look back. All she does is stick her middle finger in the air, letting me know exactly what I can go and do.

I leave the house, but I don't leave the party. I sit on the front porch and watch people leave in pairs, half-hoping I'll see April and Owen, and half-hoping I won't. If I do, I'll beat the shit out of him and apologize to her. That's what should happen. Right? I don't know. I don't know anything these days, not since I fucked things up with her.

I don't know how long I sit there on the swing in the balmy air, but they don't come out. Either they left out a different door - together or separately - or they're fucking somewhere inside the house. As my eyelids get heavy, I convince myself that I don't care what they're doing.

But I can't imagine anything worse than the image of them together.

…

A few miserable days pass where I don't leave the apartment. I barely even leave my room. If food wasn't necessary for human survival, I would've stayed holed up in bed for hours on end.

Thinking. Just thinking, that's all I'm able to do. About her. About us. About what a fuck-up I am, and how badly I need to fix this. I don't know if she'll hear it from me, but I have to try. I'll feel like this for the rest of my life if I don't at least try.

So, I get up, finding that it's nighttime and dark outside. Glancing at the clock, I see that it's not yet 10 though, so I should be safe. She should be awake. I just need her to hear me.

I don't bother with the car. I have too much pent-up energy for that. So, I put on my running shoes and sprint across campus, sweating bullets once I arrive at her apartment. It's a building with six units inside, and she's on the second floor. I walk in the lobby and press her buzzer, hearing it ring two floors up.

"Who is it?" her tinny voice asks through the speaker.

"Me," I say. "Please, Spike, I need to talk to you."

"Jackson, go home."

"April," I say, persistent. "I'm not leaving until you hear me out."

"Why should I?" she says. "Leave. Or I'm calling 911."

I know she won't. But I also know that I won't get anywhere like this, arguing with her through the intercom. So, I leave the lobby and stand on the steps for a minute, scrolling through my phone until I find what I'm looking for.

Then, I stand in the middle of her apartment's tiny lawn and turn my phone's volume up as high as it'll go, playing 'Fade Into You' by Mazzy Star - her favorite song in the world.

It only takes a moment for the window to burst open and her head to pop out. "Jackson!" she hisses. "I told you to go home."

I don't respond. I just lift the phone higher, getting the song as close to her as I can. This has to work. It's from the movie she loves more than anything. I just want a chance, one chance, to fix what I broke.

"Jackson, I swear," she says, leaning further. "The neighbors are gonna kill me. Shut that off. Now."

Still, I don't say anything. I just sway back and forth with the gauzy beat, hoping it'll work the magic that I don't quite have a hold on.

"God," she says, and I hear tears in her voice. "God, fine. Come up. But only for a minute, then you're leaving."

"Thank you," I say, but the window shuts before she hears me.

I head back to the lobby and hear the buzzer signal the front door opening, then climb one flight of stairs to her place. The door is cracked open just a bit, so I push it further and see her standing by the couch with her back facing me.

"Hey, Spike," I say. "Thanks for letting me up."

She nods. I see her head move, but she doesn't respond with words. I figure I should use the time that I've been given to put everything out there. I don't want to waste the opportunity she's given me.

"Listen, baby, I'm so sorry," I begin, knowing that's the first thing I need to say. "What I did was wrong. It was so, so wrong. And I know I can't take it back. And I don't know if I can ever come back from it, but I just want you to know how sorry I am. I shouldn't have let the guys come between me and you. What you and I have is so much more special than… than honestly, anything I've ever had. And I let someone else judge it. And that shows me that they really aren't my friends at all, if they'd do something like that." I take a long breath. "But it's not all their fault. I mean, I listened to them, and that's on me. I shouldn't have, I know that. I don't know why I did. But I can promise that, if you'll take me back, nothing like that will ever happen again. Ever. I won't let anyone tell me about what's between you and me. Because that's us. And all I need is us."

She's quiet. Not saying anything, and I'm at a loss now.

"Spike, please," I say softly, practically begging. "Say something."

She finally turns around, tears streaming down her face. She doesn't bother wiping her cheeks dry as she lifts her shiny eyes - mossy in this light - to meet mine.

"You don't know how much you hurt me," she says. "Just throwing away everything like that, because of something they said. How am I supposed to trust you now?"

I scrub my beard with one hand, listening to the sound it makes. "I don't know," I say truthfully. "Honestly, I don't. But I'll find ways to show you that you can." I pause for a moment, my throat tightening with the urge to cry. I decide not to quell that urge, and let the tears come. My eyes grow hot and the tears slip down, but I wipe them away quickly. "I just don't wanna be without you anymore. I can't do it."

"I know," she says, walking closer while uncrossing her arms. She sobs, breaking down as she reaches me, and I pull her little body close.

"I love you," I tell her firmly, kissing the side of her head as her whole body trembles. "I love you, and I'll never be stupid again, I promise."

She nods, head squished against my chest, and tries to catch her breath. I hold onto her tightly, and I don't plan on letting go. Hugging her is like coming home, and no matter what anyone says, I won't leave home again.