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"I have to go the bathroom," I say loudly.
Cash glances over his shoulder. "What?"
"I don't know where the bathroom is," I lie. "I need to go. NOW!"
"Wild," Cash's eyes widen as he glances at Wilder, "can you take her?"
Wilder exhales dramatically. "Sure."
We walk silently over to the only concrete building on the premises, the crowd surprisingly sparse for a Sunday afternoon.
"What do you want?" Wilder gets straight to the point.
I open the bathroom door. "I already told you. I want you."'
"Ingrid," he rolls his eyes.
"What happened to Blondie?"
He drops his head a little, moving his face closer to mine. "I can't give you what you want, okay?"
"I think you can," I bargain. "Especially if you want me to stop being mean to Cash."
"What specifically do you want?" he tries again.
I step inside the bathroom. "I want you to kiss me."
"That's not a good idea," Wilder removes his sunglasses, his hazel eyes cold and hard.
"I love you," I ball my fists at my sides. "I love you so much that the thought of never kissing you again makes my heart hurt."
"It's o-over, B-blondie," he stumbles over his words. "It was just a summer fling."
I hold my wrist out showing him my tattoo. "This isn't some fling to me. This is permanently marked on my arm. Forever. Just like yours. It's not a summer fling and you know it."
"He's in love with you," Wilder harshly replies. "He's given up everything for you. I can't tell him that I..."
"You can't even admit it to yourself, can you?" I shake my head. "You love me. You want to be with me, too."
"It doesn't matter what I want."
"It does," I place a hand on his chest. "It matters to me."
"He's not going to Johns Hopkins. If he was going, then maybe we wouldn't have to stop. He wouldn't be around long enough to figure it out. But I can't keep this from him. I can't lie to Cash any more than I already have."
"I'm not giving up," I warn him. "I'm not going to make it easy for you to walk away from me."
He gives in for a moment, his fingers tangling with mine. "I can't give you what you need."
"I don't need anything special. I just want you."
"Ingrid," he swallows hard. "We live in a small town. We're going to college in a small town. We're not going to make it out alive if we screw over an Allred."
I move closer, inhaling the smell of him. Laundry detergent with a woodsy hint. "Kiss me, Wilder."
"It's just going to make things worse," he says quietly, his resolve slipping.
I slide my hand from his chest up to his neck. "Kiss me."
