Mom still had her job when Saturday rolled around, no thanks to me. I was so wound up that whenever Shontell was in the same room as me I screwed something up. Like ordering a hundred cases of those party favor sized bottles of bubbles instead of ten or when I almost stabbed her with a letter opener after tripping over my own untied shoelaces.

Mom sent home to rest, making up some excuse about me having a headache.

I was halfway up the long drive way to our oversized rental home when someone called out my name. Then I was ambushed, entangled in a mess of arms and red hair. Squeals of giggles pierced my ear.

"Holy shit, Wave, when you and Theo said this place was huge I wasn't expecting all this!"

My brain struggled to keep up with what was happening right in front of me. "Naomi?"

She pulled away, hands on my shoulders and brows cinched. "You're still mad, aren't you? Everything was fine on the phone, but now that you see me in person you wanna hit me."

"No," I laughed. "I don't want to hit you. I just-You're here!" How did I forget she was coming?

"Wow." She dropped her hands from my shoulders, frowning. "Could you sound any less enthusiastic?"

"Sorry! I'm not mad, I promise," I assured her. "You might've wasted your time coming down here, though."

"What? Why?"

"Long story," I sighed, starting towards the house. "I'll tell you about it while you're making me chocolate peanut butter cookies."

• • •

"So, you like him?" Naomi asked, licking peanut butter from a spoon.

As I helped her prepare the cookies I filled Naomi in on everything that had happened that summer, starting with the book festival. It felt like forever ago when Stephen and I crashed into each other's lives.

"Not enough to jeopardize my mom's job." I bit into a cookie that hadn't fully cooled off, immediately chasing it with milk.

She eyed me from across the island. "You couldn't wait two more minutes?"

"No, actually." I smirked.

"Maybe his mom was bluffing," Naomi said. "You said she saw you two flirting the other day and she hasn't fired your mom."

"Yet," I emphasized. "She could be waiting for the perfect moment. Or she probably saw me crap myself when I saw her that day and now she knows I won't even sneeze in her son's direction."

Naomi scooped out the last of peanut butter from the jar, jamming the spoon in her mouth as she mulled over what I said.

"It doesn't matter," I told her, grabbing another cookie. "I told you, he's a player. New girl every day. I'm better off forgetting him."

"Yeah, don't ever go into acting," she snorted. "Player or not, you like him."

She was right. No matter how many times I told myself Stephen Davis was bad for me, I kept hoping he'd message me. The other night I even spent a few hours out on the balcony hoping he'd come out and we could silently continue our reading date. Pathetic.

"It doesn't matter either way. I'm not risking my mom's job," I said, nibbling on the cookie. "I wish there was a way to speed up the getting over him part."

Her brown eyes sparkled, lips curving up into a mischievous grin. "Really? Because the Uber driver told me about this eighteen and under club around here, Stop Light or something like that. We can get all dressed up and check it out. Maybe meet some cute boys, get your mind off your neighbor."

As soon as the idea popped into her head it was decided that we were going. That was how things worked with Naomi once she had an idea. There was no stopping her.

"I packed a lot of cute outfits and I plan to use each one!" She said, already heading up the stairs.

Naomi might've had the smarts to pack cute outfits, but not me.

That was how I ended up squeezing into one of Naomi's little black dresses. She was thinner than me and at 5'7 I had a good six inches on her, so the dress was tight and way too short for my liking. I put on some sheer tights with little hearts dotting them and a jean jacket to cover up a little more. I'd probably get hot, but I didn't care. It was better than feeling naked.

Naomi came out of the bathroom, connected to her room, in a black plaid two piece and assessed my outfit. "Sweetie, I love you, but the Chucks?"

"Well, I can't fit my size nines in your size sixes," I shrugged.

"It's fine, no one will be looking at your shoes anyway," she said, nodding approvingly at the rest of the look. "And I like what you did with your hair! You hardly ever wear it up."

I double checked my bun in the mirror above the dresser that was currently littered with make-up and hairpins. "Thanks," I said. "I wanted to try something different."

"Oh, you know what you need? Earrings!" She exclaimed, digging through her suitcase on the bed.

"What are you two dressed up for?"

I jumped at the sound of my mom's voice. I didn't even hear her come in over the music blasting from Naomi's phone. Naomi stopped the music and greeted my mom with a hug.

"Hi, Mrs. Davidson," she said, releasing her from the hug. "Thanks for letting me stay."

"Yeah, I doubt you'll be thanking me after I put you to work," my mom said with a laugh. "I'm sure Waverly told you, Shontell is very—"

"Picky? Wishy-washy? Meticulous?" I finished for her. Mom narrowed her eyes at me.

"Two younger siblings have made me very patient," Naomi said proudly.

"Good," Mom chuckled. "Now, what are two up to tonight?"

"Going to the club to get a little tipsy."

Naomi elbowed me in the ribs. "It's a teen club, Mrs. Davidson. No alcohol."

"That's what the pre-game is for." I smirked.

"My daughter, the comedian," she rolled her eyes. "Try not to stay out too late. Tomorrow we have another round of dress shopping."

"Oh, I love looking at wedding dresses!" Naomi grinned.

"So did I before this summer," I mumbled under my breath.

My mom disappeared into her room and Naomi hip bumped me. "Let's go find you a boyfriend," she said with a wink.

• • •

After waiting in line for nearly an hour and fifteen dollar cover charge, we were finally inside. Green Light was pretty packed. Most of the crowd gravitated towards the stage as they waited for the performer.

It was my first time at a place like that. My knowledge of club life came from movies. So far, real life clubs seemed to be a lot more chill than the ones on tv. It felt like a middle school dance in a cafeteria, only with a better DJ.

"Let's go to the bar," Naomi shouted over the music. "See what the selection is looking like!"

Wait. She was serious about finding me a boyfriend?

"I don't really want to meet any guys."

Naomi gripped my wrist, pulling me through the crowd. "A coke with no ice—got it!"

"What? No, that's not—" I gave up trying to talk to her as we squeezed up to the bar.

We claimed two empty bar stools near the end of the bar. The music wasn't as loud, so I could talk to Naomi without yelling.

"I didn't really come out to find a boyfriend."

Naomi ordered two sodas before turning to me. "Okay, boyfriend was too strong of a word. But you said you wanted to speed up the process of getting over Stephen and the only way to do that is by meeting someone more interesting."

Maybe she had a point, but who could be more interesting than the son of my favorite author?

"I'd rather just hang out with you," I told her. "We wasted a whole month not talking to each other."

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "We?"

"Okay, me," I admitted. "I wasted a whole month not talking to my best friend. I don't want to think about boys tonight."

"You sure?" she asked, slowly swiveling on her stool. "Because the boys here are finer than a parking ticket."

I snorted at the corny line. "How would Theo feel about you saying that?"

"What?" She shrugged, innocently. "I'm checking these guys out for you." She turned back around in her seat just as the bartender slid over two glasses of Coke.

"Well, you can stop," I told her, sipping my drink. "I just want to listen to music and embarrass myself on the dance floor."

And that was exactly what I did. I wasn't the best dancer in the world, but by time the live music started the floor was so crowded that no one was paying attention to me.

Naomi kept ditching me, elbowing her way to the stage to see the band up close. Neither of us had heard of them, but Naomi became an instant fan when they covered one of her favorite songs. She wanted photographic evidence in case they hit it big.

I stood at the back of the crowd, vibing to music and waiting for Naomi to come back and take her drink when someone's breath tickled the back of my neck.

"Your smile lit up the room, so I had to come over."

I recognized the voice instantly and went stiff. Stephen. Before the panic fully set it, the cheesy pick-up line registered with me.

Whipping around to face him I asked, holding back laughter, "Does that line really work?"

His dark eyes nearly fell from the sockets. Even though he was dark skinned and the lighting was dim I knew he was blushing, embarrassed.

He laughed, scratching the back of his head. "It was a joke. I knew it was you."

"Liar." I couldn't stop myself from laughing when he let out a sigh, shoulders dropping, looking defeated.

"That line has worked for me before because it's so bad," he defended himself. "Girls like funny guys. Be honest, if you didn't know me—"

I cut him off, "I would've yelled at you for breathing on my neck."

He chuckled, glancing at the floor. "Yeah. I guess I'm a little off my game tonight."

A beat passed. Then another. Neither of us doing anything but staring at each other. At least on the outside. On the inside my brain tried desperately to remember why I shouldn't have been talking to him.

"I'm gonna go," he said, suddenly. "and salvage what's left of my ego."

He looked like he wanted to say more. Instead he turned and was swallowed by the crowd.

Naomi appeared at my side in a blink. "What happened? It looked like things were going so well."

I shrugged off whatever residual feelings were left in Stephen's wake. "Nothing. That was Stephen."

"Wait," she gaped, eyes darting to find him in the crowd, but he was long gone. "Your summer fling Stephen?"

"He wasn't a summer fling." Could you even have a summer fling with someone you hadn't kissed?

"Sweetie," Naomi said, sympathetically. "Your mom can find more clients."

I quickly doused out that small flicker of hope that sparked in my chest.

No.

I made a promise.

"You're doing the exact opposite of helping."

"Okay, sorry," she took her drink from me with one hand and grabbed my hand in the other, tugging me into the crowd. "Let's dance and forget."

All the dancing in the world couldn't stop me from searching for Stephen's face in the crowd.