“It’s nice.”

His long fingers tapped against the wheel while the palm of his other hand rested on the stick shift.

“Why do you do that?” he asked, nodding toward the hand I had braced against my forehead. His gaze returned to the road. “Because of the scar, right?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to hide.”

I had nothing.

We drove in silence to the lake. All of the dark and silent little beaches and parks surrounding it were known to be prime make-out places. Of course, it’s not why we were there. In fact, I had no idea why we were there.

“Let’s go,” he said, climbing out of the car and tearing off his T-shirt. What the hell was it with this guy and being half-naked?

Honestly, I just wasn’t sure how much more my heart and hormones could take since the self-love hadn’t worked. One moment I’d been happily picturing John’s hands, John’s mouth. Heat curling down low inside of me. The next, I’d been back at the Drop Stop surrounded by blood, adrenaline crashing through me in terror. Nothing worked anymore; both my body and my mind were against me. I’d wanted to scream, put my fist through a wall. I was disconnected from everything.

“Go where?” I asked, standing beside the car and watching him start in on his shoes.

“Swimming. Come on, there’s no crowd here.”

Oh shit. “But what are we going to wear?”

He just stopped and looked at me.

“Underwear. Right. Forget I asked,” I mumbled.

Half of a moon hung high in the sky. Better than a full one for sure, but still. On my list of things to do, stripping down in front of John did not feature strongly. Or really at all.

“Something wrong?” he asked, stepping out of his jeans. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“No.” Yes.

“You’ve jumped off the rock before, right?”

“The rock?” I looked around, at last taking full note of where exactly along the lake we were. “You want to jump off a cliff into the water in the dark? Are you insane?”

He threw back his head and laughed loud and long. Asshat.

The sound did strange things to me. “You’re serious.”

“Absolutely—hurry up.” His jeans went onto the driver’s-side seat, then he shut the door and leaned back. “I won’t look if it makes you feel better.”

“Shit.”

“It’s okay to be afraid, Edie. You just can’t let it stop you from doing anything.”

I could do this.

No. No, actually I couldn’t.

Oh, God.

Hands shaking, I lowered the zipper and pulled the dress over my head. Wrestled off my boots and socks and stashed it all in the car. Thank God I’d worn a decent black lace bra and plain cotton boy shorts. “Let’s go.”

Grass and dirt beneath my feet and the heavens overhead doing the sparkling, twinkling thing. People jumped off the rock all summer long. It was almost like some rite of passage, to be stupid enough to jump off the cliff in the first place, and then to be a good enough swimmer to get back around to the beach. I’d never felt the need to complete that particular passage.

“Do you normally bring girls here?” I asked, following behind him up the trail. All those bouncy white bits of me were out of his sight with him in front. My hands still roved, covering my chest, holding back my belly, fumbling over my thighs. Stupid insecurities. Though seriously, what the ever-loving hell was I doing? The temptation to turn and run ate at me. No way could I imagine any of the cheerleaders and assorted others Hang had pointed out as being among John’s special private-time friends going hiking in the middle of the night.

“No.” Amusement filled his voice. “Anders and I come here sometimes, but that’s it.”

“You guys been friends a long time?”

“Since the first day of first grade.”

Georgia and I had been the same; funny how fast forever could end. Thoughts of her caused the usual pain, but I pushed it aside. Adventuring with John being way more interesting than inner turmoil.

“Careful here.” He turned back, held out his hand. His fingers were stronger than mine, the skin rougher. Together, we climbed the rocky trail to the top of the hill and stood at the edge. Hands disengaged and all returned to relative normal.

“How you wanna do this?” he asked. “You want me to go first?”

“It’s pretty dark down there. I can’t see the water properly.” I pushed some pebbles off the edge with my toes. They scattered and fell, eventually splashing.

“Don’t worry. It’s there,” he said.

Interestingly enough, I’d been too busy hauling ass to the top of the hill and fretting about the fall to worry about my body. John’s gaze did a quick up and down; no expression of horror or anything crossed his face. We were friends, apparently. It was fine. Still, the thought of him in the water looking up, watching while I plummeted, didn’t appeal. Nor did him catching the view from above, either.

“Do you want me to push you?” he asked.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

More laughter from the ass. “Relax, Edie. I wouldn’t do that.”

Eyes all squinty, I gave him a disgruntled look.

“Sorry. You can trust me, I swear.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled.

“So,” he said eventually. “What are we doing?”

“Can we go together?”

“Sure.”

I held out my hand and he took it, grip strong and sure.

“Count of three, on three,” he said. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

“One. Two. Three.” And we jumped.

I screamed and he laughed, the lake rushing up to greet us. Adrenaline surged through me, making me feel more alive than I had in a long time, but it was over so fast. Then we were in the water, submerged in the dark. Of course, I had to let go of his hand to swim to the surface. Still alive, thank you baby Jesus, blood pounded behind my ears. My underwear had even managed to remain intact.

John treaded water, wet hair hanging in his face. “You good?”

“Yeah. That was great!”

“What else haven’t you done before?”

“I don’t know.” I swirled my arms around in the water, keeping myself afloat. Talk about an embarrassing topic of conversation. I wouldn’t lie to him, but I wasn’t willing to be specific, either. “The usual.”