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I chuckle. “Mine will too,” I say, before I remember she won’t because she’s not here. “Shit.”

He gives me a sad, caring look. “I can stay a little longer. We can talk some more.”

“No, it’s cool. We should go.”

Desmond stands, holding his hand out for me. I take it and let him pull me to my feet. We hold hands again as we walk down the beach and toward our rentals. I still like the feel of his hand in mine, still have that word—bisexual—in the back of my head, but not sure I really even care about the label.

We stop before we get too close to the house, Desmond pulling me against him to kiss the hell out of me again. He kisses with a hunger that makes me feel wanted, like he’s feral for me in this way that’s unmatched.

“Text me when you wake up, yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I reply. I don’t know what this is, what it means, but I’m feeling it.

It’s not until I’m in bed at the rental that I think about the fact that I’m heading back home to Ohio soon, and Des to Florida. That we’re thousands of miles away from one another. That we have plans taking us to different colleges as we chase the same dream.

My cell phone ringing wakes me up the next morning. I think it’s going to be Desmond, but Serena’s name is on the screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” I say into my phone, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“Oak.” Her voice breaks, making it clear she’s crying.

I sit up quickly. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened, Ree?”

“I’m… God, we are so fucked. I’m pregnant, Oak. What are we going to do? We’re sixteen. We broke up. We…”

Pregnant. Serena is pregnant. We didn’t even have sex very many times. We just started not that long ago, and I always wrapped it up. “How—Are you sure?”

“I took two tests. My parents are going to kill me. Your dad is going to kill you. How are we supposed to… I’m scared,” she says before dissolving into tears.

I tell her it will be okay, that we’ll figure it out, that we’re in this together. I don’t know what she wants to do about the baby, but I’ll support whatever decision she makes, and if she decides to keep the baby, well, I’m not the kind of man who can’t be there for her.

I can’t be away from my own child. I’m not built that way. Especially after my mom having left us.

We stay on the phone for an hour, talking and making plans. As soon as we get off, I shower and text Des to meet me on the beach.

I’m already out there when he arrives.

“Hey.” He smiles, then looks at me and asks, “What’s wrong? If you weren’t into last night, then—”

“It’s not that,” I say. “I was into it. I just…” I start to walk away, rubbing a hand over my buzzed head, trying not to freak out.

Desmond follows me, the two of us not stopping until we’re at a bend in the beach, tucked into a hidden alcove.

“Serena’s pregnant,” I blurt out.

“Oh shit,” he says, then his gaze changes, like it dawns on him what that means. Desmond shoves his hands into his pockets, looking down at the sand. “You gotta do your thing,” he tells me.

“I know,” I admit. “But I… Last night—”

“Last night was fucking awesome,” he says. “But it was a fling, ya know? We’re both leaving soon. We live across the country from each other. It’s not like it could have been anything. It was just fun or whatever.”

Just fun.

A fling.

It’s not like we could have been anything.

There’s a part of me that knows his words are true, my brain telling me he’s right, but damn if what he said doesn’t bruise my heart. It fucking hurts, feels like he tackled it, taking my heart to the ground in a brutal move. “Yeah, just fun,” I reply. My eyes sting. Jesus. I’m losing it. Why do I feel like crying?