"Ethan, wait!"
The group parted like the Red Sea as she rushed after him.
Her designer shoes, probably another gift from Jason, clicked against the floor.
Here comes the crocodile tears.
Ethan paused at the store entrance. The exit stood there in front of him, like salvation, but something in Amy's voice made him hesitate.
Don't turn around. Keep walking. Don't give her the chance, Ethan!
But sixteen-year-old hearts rarely listened to logic.
Amy caught up.
"Why are you being so cold to me?"
Her fingers found his free hand, intertwining with intimacy.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The touch. She knows exactly what that does to me.
Ethan's resolve wavered like a candle in the wind.
The warmth of her skin, the familiar scent of her perfume, the way she looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes, it all crashed over him in waves.
Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe Jason really is just a friend. Maybe—
