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where they currently stay with Hudson’s mother, Monica.
    How I know all this? Well, let’s just say that I’ve heard the story every year since “That Time” — as Hudson likes to refer to it — happened.
    â€œWell,” I said, returning back to the conversation at hand, “I’m pretty sure you probably spent the other half of the time sunbathing and shopping?”
    Hudson peered at me with confused eyes. “ Of course I went shopping!” she exclaimed. “What else would I be doing there?”
    I rolled my eyes at my best friend. I could name four million other things I would rather do. The first being able to spend time with my father.

Chapter Four

    Cameron
    I didn’t have any more classes with Olive that day. I tried not to let my devastation show as I shoved my books into my locker angrily. I had made sure to sign up for each and every class she had chosen — even that stupid pottery class. Yet, luck was not in my court, again.
    I grabbed my schedule out of my bag and ripped it up, letting the debris fall to the floor. School was the only time I had to spend with Olive. I had made so many plans to be with her and now I could only see her for an hour a day. My anger began to boil as I clenched the cool, sharp edges of my locker and squeezed, hard.
    â€œHey!” the voice said behind me. I felt a tap on my shoulder. “What are you up to?” It was Armando. He had just come out of his class and now he was standing next to me, towering over me at a whopping six foot four.
    I nodded a hello.
    Armando smiled and then checked out my hand. “Dude, you do know you’re bleeding, right?” he said, pulling my hand away from the locker edge.
    I checked out my bruised hand and chuckled softly. Blood streamed down my hand and wrist. I frowned. “Stupid lockers,” I said hesitantly. “That’s a hazard you know. They should put child proof edges on or something, right?”
    Armando laughed and clapped a big, brown hand on my shoulder. “Only for babies like you,” he said.
    I pushed him off me and laughed. “So, got any classes with Hudson?” I asked, dabbing my wound with one of my gym T-shirts. The gash wasn’t terrible; just a cut that would leave a hint of a scar.
    Armando ran his hand through his jet black hair. “Of course I do,” he said, flashing his brilliantly white teeth at me. “No way was I not going to be with her.”
    â€œThat’s called suffocating , Mannie,” I said, and smirked.
    Armando shrugged. “At least I’m not hurting myself over her,” he said, pointing at my wounded hand. “I have some control.”
    I glanced at my hand again, sighing. Armando was right. I had no control. I always felt as if I wasn’t myself. Thoughts — hostile ones — continued to course through my veins every second. And now I was hurting myself?
    I shook my head to mask my anxiety. “Don’t say anything to Olive,” I said in a hushed tone. “We are starting off on a good path. I don’t want it to stop.”
    Armando wrapped his arm around my shoulder and shuffled my hair. “Why would I ruin this little romance you two have?” he asked, his Spanish accent surfacing.
    I shrugged. “Good question.”
    We walked down the hallway and turned the corner out to the parking lot. I tossed out the bloody shirt, ridding myself of it. As I was headed for my car, Armando stopped me.
    â€œCameron,” he said, pulling out his swim bag, “you can still try out for the team. I mean, you love swimming.”
    I let my gaze fall to the floor. I did love swimming. In fact, swimming was one of the things that calmed me down. It was something I grew up on, something I had cherished. Up until things changed.
    I shook my head at my best friend. “I can’t,” I said sadly, pulling out my car keys. “I have to go