No, I go back to Heather

Something in the back of my mind is telling me I should say no to Kelly, or at least that I have a good reason to; but I’m incredibly horny, and even if I’ve never crushed on her, I’ve fantasized many times about fucking her. I’m about to say yes when I hear a voice in my head—Whitney—saying, “Don’t lose heart.” Maybe she meant I have a chance with Heather?

If I do, I have to try; but I don’t want to turn Kelly down, exactly, in case I don’t really have a shot with Heather. “I’d be glad to, but I need to be getting back—I have to get home pretty soon. Mom made me promise.” I’m lying through my teeth. “I’m not even clear why, but . . .” I shrug.

Kelly looks disappointed, but not rejected. “Fuck,” she says softly. She considers for a moment, then says, “Maybe later this week?”

“That ought to work,” I tell her. As she gets out of the car, I add, “See you later, beautiful.”

She turns and flashes me a grin that almost makes me reconsider, then says, “See you soon,” and goes into her house.

I drive back to Heather’s house and let myself in. When I walk into the kitchen, I see her standing at the island, shoulders slumped, looking down at my note. “Hey, beautiful,” I say.

She whirls around, and I’m stunned to see the tracks of tears on her cheeks. Her face lights up in a glorious, amazed smile. “Andrew! You came back!” My arms happen to be spread; she flies into them and wraps me up in a fierce hug. I hug her back, not sure what else to do. “I thought—I was afraid—” Heather says, her head burrowed into my shoulder. “You came back!”

“Of course I came back,” I say uncertainly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Heather doesn’t answer at first, because she’s busy kissing my neck. Finally, she says, “You went with Kelly. I knew what she wanted as soon as I saw your note. I thought—I’d gotten so close, I’d made it this far without losing you, only to lose you to her at the last minute.”

I don’t think she’s expressing herself very clearly, but all the same, as hard as it is for me to believe, I only see one thing Heather could mean. “Thank you, Whitney,” I murmur, wishing she could hear me.

She can’t, of course, but Heather can. “What do you mean?”

I look down to see Heather looking up at me, eyes wide. I tell her about my conversation with Whitney at the party. Unlike her cousin, Heather giggles when I reference the diving-board incident, but her face soon grows sad. I tell her everything; by the time I’m done, her eyes have filled with tears. When I tell her why I turned Kelly down, they spill over, tracing lines down her cheeks. She blinks hard several times, then says softly, “Bless her. I love my cousin, but I never thought to talk to her about you; I would never have thought she knew anything. I guess she knew how I felt about you long before I did.”

Now my eyes go wide. “What—” I stop for a moment to regain my composure. “What do you mean?”