I slowly rotated my pencil around in my hand, chewing my bottom lip.

Why hadn't I studied harder?

I glanced up at the clock, feeling my heartbeat pick up in my chest.

Fifteen minutes to complete my final. And then my Junior Year was over.

I would officially be a Senior.

If I passed this English final. And at this rate, I'd be retaking 11th grade English.

Our final for my English class was divided between two apparatuses. This God forsaken essay question. And a research paper, which I'd made a 98 on.

But I couldn't afford to make a B in the in the class. That could ruin my Valedictorian status. That could ruin my dreams of getting into Duke, of studying medicine. That could ruin everything.

So I bucked up and finished what I started writing, even though I'm not even sure what the question's asking.

I finished writing right as the bell rang, and my teacher stood waiting by the door to collect our finals.

I handed her my final, and she flashed me a smile. "Have a wonderful summer Sophie."

Evil bitch.

I hiked my backpack up over my shoulder, heading out into the hallway where kids were screaming and yelling as though they'd just been released from prison.

And essentially we had.

But I wasn't exactly in a partying mood.

I headed out to my car, letting out a long sigh as I massaged my temples.

"What time is it?" I heard a voice call out behind me, as two arms wrapped around my waist.

"Not now," I muttered, disengaging myself from Bryce.

"Summer time," he corrected. "The correct answer is summer time."

"Are you ready to go?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, pouting his lips as he stared at me. "Did something happen on your English final?"

"I'd just like to go home."

He wrapped his arms around my neck, biting back a smile. "My love, it's over. Done. We're seniors."

"Maybe."

"I promise that you passed English."

"I needed an A."

"And I swear to God that you got it. You tutored me for that final." He reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Babe, it's one test. One final." His eyes flickered around. "Don't let it ruin your day."

I buried my head in his chest, letting him wrap his arms around my waist.

This one final could ruin my GPA.

"I know you're still thinking about it," he chastised.

"I can't help it."

He took my hand, dragging me back towards the school.

"What are you doing?" I whined.

"You do this to me every year," he called over his shoulder. "And this year I'm going to do something about it."

I let him take me back inside the school, curious as to what his plan was.

And then he opened up our English teacher's classroom door, where she was seated at her desk, grading finals.

"Mr. Harrison," she greeted, a half-smile on her face. "Can I help you?"

"I need to you talk to about the Final."

"Your grade was posted at lunch."

"It's about Sophie's final."

My eyes widened.

"Bryce!" I hissed.

"Sophie?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Sophie is really worried about the final," Bryce informed her. "And I know that you have other classes to grade and other people who are probably just as equally worried, but do you think that you could grade Sophie's final sometime soon? That way she doesn't-"

"Bryce!" I interrupted again, feeling my cheeks heating up.

"Sophie, you have a 98 in the class," she reminded me, with a slight smile.

"I know, I'm sorry for bothering you," I said, going to tug Bryce back out of the door.

"Are you really that worried about it?"

"She is," Bryce confirmed, with a nod.

She went digging through her papers, locating my final. "Well go on and take a seat, this will only take me a few minutes."

Bryce flashed me a smile, and I could only glare at him, my cheeks bright red at this point.

That boy was so infuriating.

And so we waited, the ticking of the clock the only thing breaking the silence.

I couldn't work like this.

Bryce was bouncing his knee up and down, puffing his cheeks up and letting the air out slowly. He flashed me a smile as he saw me staring at him, and I just shook my head at him.

"Alright Sophie, come on over and view your grade," she finally said, after a long stretch of silence.

I tip-toed over to her desk, my heart pounding in my chest.

I could practically feel it in my throat.

"Sophie, did you understand what the question was asking?" she asked me, as I reached her desk.

"Um, somewhat?"

"You should've asked me for clarification."

Why didn't I think of that?

She showed me the top of my test, which held a 75.

I felt my heart plummet to the bottom of my stomach. Never in my life had I made a C on any test. And this was a Final.

I was going to be sick.

"Good news is that you're going to keep your A," she said, showing me as she entered the grade into the system.

And I watched as my grade dropped from a 98 to a 94, which isn't the end of the world, but I'd sustained that 98 for 9 weeks. And now, the very last day, I'd dropped it 4 points.

I could feel the tears stinging at the back of my eyes, but I refused to be that girl.

"Don't be afraid to ask questions," she advised, with a kind smile. "But it was a stellar essay for a girl who didn't exactly know what the question was about."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you."

She nodded and I turned back to face Bryce, who was staring at me, waiting for some sort of sign.

We'd been whispering, since my grade situation was confidential.

I nodded towards the door and he practically bolted out of the classroom.

I knew he was bored out of his mind.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

I nodded.

"Well you don't have a happy face."

"I made a C."

He stopped short, his eyes wide.

"I kept my A. So I guess it's okay."

"Sophie Allen, I know you better than that."

Bryce cared about baseball. Everyone in the school, practically everybody in the town knew that Bryce Harrison lived, breathed, and slept baseball.

Me? I cared about school. I lived, breathed, and slept academics. This was my entire world. I strove to be the best. It was like a burning desire inside, to always push myself to achieve greatness.

And today I'd failed.

Bryce took my face between his hands, gently placing a kiss on my lips.

"I'm better than that."

"You know what I do after I have a bad practice or a bad game?"

I shook my head, burying my face in his neck.

"Come on," he said, wrapping an arm around me. "You need an ice cream fix. And Dawson is really good at snuggles when you're feeling down."

"I'd rather have snuggles from you," I muttered into his chest.

"Okay, I'll give you all the snuggles you want."

Sometimes I forget that I have the best boyfriend that walks the planet. But it's little moments like these that remind me of how lucky I am.

~*~

"Do you have your supplies?" mom asked me, as I came down the stairs.

"I do," I said, producing an old backpack, which was filled with school supplies from the prior school year that I'd no longer need.

Starting with my AP Chemistry book. Followed by my English stuff.

"You look very summery."

I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing a white tank, which cut off just below midriff. And then I was wearing a pink, high-waisted skirt, that flowed down to mid-thigh. I'd pulled the sides of my hair back into a white bow, and I was wearing my white, eyelet lace Keds.

"I feel summery."

Thanks to Bryce Harrison and his snuggles. And ice cream.

"Have fun tonight."

"I will."

"And be safe. As always."

"I'll do that too."

She reached over and kissed my cheek. "She's leaving!"

My dad came lumbering into the living room. "Be careful."

"I always am."

He humphed, kissing my opposite cheek. "What time will you be home?"

I shrugged. "I'll text you?"

"Don't if it's too late. Text your mom."

I chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"I love you," I reminded them, as I left my house.

"Love you honey!" mom called after me, at the same time dad said, "you too."

I parked at Bryce's house. I was riding to the party with Clayton, something I hadn't necessarily agreed on, but I didn't want to get behind the wheel of my own car if I decided to drink tonight, so it seemed like a logical idea.

Clayton and Steven Anderson were inside.

"Well hello," I said, raising my eyebrows.

"He's outside," Clayton said, without looking up from his phone.

I looked over my shoulder, where Bryce was playing tug-of-war with Dawson outside.

"Has anyone told you that you look gorgeous tonight?" Steven asked, with a half-smile.

"I'd lay off the compliments if I were you," Clayton advised, still without looking up from his phone.

"Just telling a pretty girl what she deserves to-"

"What pretty girl?" Bryce asked, as he stepped inside.

I placed my lips on his, smiling at him. Distraction mode. "Having fun?"

"Just giving him some exercise before we go," Bryce said, heading into the kitchen. "So what pretty girl?"

Well that apparently didn't work.

Bryce smiled at me. "You look beautiful by the way."

Apparently this is the place to go if a girl wants a self-esteem boost.

"Are we ready to go?" Clayton asked, standing up and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.

"I've got to grab my stuff to burn from my room," Bryce said, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He glanced over at Steven. "And if you say anything about my girlfriend while I'm gone, I won't hesitate to smash your face in. Your only warning for the night." And then he disappeared.

"So can I just not say anything about her?" Steven asked Clayton. "Am I still allowed to talk to her?"

"Would you just get in the car?"

Steven winked at me before heading out to the car, laughing.

Clayton finished off his bottle of water before following Steven out to the car.

I leaned against the counter, waiting on Bryce.

Then my phone went off, Kylie's ringtone.

She probably wants a ride.

"Hey," I said, answering her call.

"I looked everywhere for you afterschool!" she whisper-shouted into the phone.

"I was having a mini-meltdown," I defended. "Why? What's going on?"

"This is a Code Nine."

"I don't speak your combined spy talk. Is this a Code Red? Or a Level Nine?"

"Level Nine."

"Okay, deep breath in and calm down," I ordered.

Knowing Kylie, it was probably another situation with Landon. I swear, she should dump him on the side of the road and forget about him.

"Are you on your way to the party?"

"I'm about to-"

"You ready?" Bryce asked, coming back out into the living room.

"I'll meet you in the car," I said, pointing to my phone.

He flashed me a thumbs-up, heading outside.

"Sophie, my brother is in town."

"Wait, what?" I asked, feeling my stomach coil.

Kylie's brother.

He was two years our senior, and has had a crush on me since we were kids. I'd practically celebrated at his graduation last year, when he'd moved away to study out-of-state.

"He came in this morning," she continued. "And he's coming to the party tonight."

"Why?"

"Because he can? Because he likes to annoy me? Because he knows you'll be there? Who the hell knows? The point is, he's going to be there."

I may not have mentioned Kylie's brother's crush to Bryce. He's been annoying me since we were kids, and Bryce's jealousy was not something that I liked to spark if I could avoid it. Plus, I was never around Kylie's brother and Bryce at the same time. So it was never an issue.

Until now.

"It's not rocket science!" Clayton called from outside. "Grab backpack, put in car. Let's go."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll take care of the damage control tonight. Just try and keep Asher on a tight leash?"

"Yeah, no promises."

I hung up, picking up my backpack and heading out to Clayton's car.

"About time," Clayton huffed.

"Was that negative Clayton?" I challenged, handing Bryce my backpack as I climbed into the backseat. "Do you owe me three put ups?"

"Shut the hell up."

"What are put ups?" Steven asked.

Bryce chuckled as I handed him my phone. "Can you put this in your pocket? I don't have any on me."

He nodded, tucking my phone away.

"Seriously, what are put ups?" Steven asked again, as we pulled out of Bryce's driveway.

Bryce pulled his arm around me, using his other hand to text.

"Three positives," I informed him. "So like I'd tell you that you aren't the worst person I've ever met. And your pitching skills have slightly improved. And you don't smell like stinky cheese today."

Bryce chuckled, tightening his arm around me.

"Okay, let me try," Steven said, his lips twitching into a smile.

"No," Bryce declined, his voice flat. He glanced up from his phone to glare at Steven.

"I just want to see if I got the hang of it. It's only fair, since she did it to me."

Bryce glanced over at me, and I just rolled my eyes.

His gaze shifted back down to his phone, but the frown didn't leave his face.

"So I'd say that you have a nice smile."

"Beat you to it," Clayton muttered.

"So you've got two guys in the same car hitting on your girlfriend? You better be careful Bryce," Steven sang.

"Watch yourself Anderson," Bryce growled. His body was tense, and he dropped his phone, his gaze now fixated on Steven.

"Secondly, I'd say that you have the ability to make others smile when they don't necessarily want to. It's a gift you know."

Bryce's jaw shifted.

"There's nothing sexual about that sentence," Steven defended. "It's a compliment. Do you not allow guys to compliment your girlfriend?"

"Depends on the guy and their intentions," Bryce growled.

Steven smirked.

"Well thank you," I said, letting out a sigh.

It was going to be a long night if these two were at each other's throats all night.

"I still have one more," he reminded me.

"I think two is enough," Bryce countered.

"Thirdly, I'd say that you have nice legs. They're nice to look at when I'm walking down the hallway, especially because they connect to your ass."

Why Steven, why?

Bryce leapt at him from the backseat, but Clayton put one arm up from the driver's seat to the passenger seat, basically clotheslining Bryce in the process.

He sprawled out across the floor of the backseat, groaning as he clutched his throat, where Clayton had clotheslined him.

"I meant no harm," Steven said, laughing. "I just wanted to see it."

"See what? See your death?" Clayton shouted. "Do you not see me trying to drive? Fuck you Anderson."

"I've heard he was jealous, but he always seems so chill. I just wanted to see it in action." Steven glanced over at me. "I'm sorry Sophie, I don't really stare at your ass. Though I'm sure it's a nice one."

Bryce pushed himself off the floor of the car, and I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him into my lap.

"I'll fucking kill you," Bryce muttered.

"That's not a nice thing to say your girlfriend," Steven chastised.

"Forget him," I said, planting a kiss on the base of his neck. "He's trying to get you riled up."

"Well it worked."

I trailed my kisses up his neck.

I could feel him starting to relax.

"Are you aware of what's happening in the backseat of your car?" I heard Steven ask. "That's some rated R shit."

"Well you caused it, so now you can enjoy it," Clayton muttered in response.

Bryce crashed his lips against mine. His jealousy make out sessions were always the most intense.

I wasn't entirely comfortable making out with an audience, but I didn't want Bryce to murder Steven either, so I pushed my discomfort to the side for the greater good.

And it's not like I minded making out with Bryce Harrison.

"Okay, I think you've made your point," Steven said, after a few minutes.

"We're not making a point," I said, shimmying out from underneath Bryce.

"Well, maybe you aren't," Bryce countered.

"You were not just using me to make a point to Steven," I said, lowering my eyes at him.

I was his girlfriend. Not Steven's. He didn't need to use me to make some stupid point to him, or anybody for that matter.

"Just reminding Anderson of what he can't have."

"Maybe you need to check yourself."

Bryce raised his eyebrows, clearly taken aback.

"I'm not some piece of territory to be marked," I reminded him.

"I know that."

"Then don't talk about me like I am. Or use me like I am."

Bryce's jaw clenched. "I wasn't using you, you don't need to make this into a deal."

"So The Golden Couple makes out in the backseat and they actually fight?" Steven questioned. "This isn't at all what I imagined."

"Shut up Steven," Bryce and I said in unison.

"I'm not the one making this into a deal," I stated to Bryce. "I was just trying to make sure you didn't murder Steven on one of your jealous rampages."

"I don't rampage," Bryce declined, in a tight voice. "And it sounds to me like you were trying to control me."

"Would you both shut the fuck up?" Clayton called from the driver's seat. "Bryce, you needed to be controlled so you didn't taking Steven's fucking head off, that's why I clotheslined you. And Sophie, you're acting like a bitch. Which isn't much different than usual, but it's a little more difficult to deal with. So both of you shut up."

Silence fell across the car, and I reached up and twirled a piece of hair across my finger, stealing a look at Bryce out of the corner of my eye.

He was sitting slumped down in his seat, his arms folded across his seat. He was pouting.

We pulled up to the beach a few minutes later. The sun was already setting, and a good amount of people were already milling around, the fire high in the sky.

I went to get out of the car as Clayton parked, and Bryce reached over and handed me my backpack.

I reached over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"He gets that for handing you a backpack?" Steven inquired. "What do I get if I carry it for you?"

Bryce leaned forward and shoved him, hard.

"Okay, okay," Steven relented, rubbing his arm.

I stepped out of the car, and Bryce met me around the opposite side, wrapping his hand around mine.

I didn't like it much when we fought. Especially when it was over something trivial.

"I'll carry it," Bryce said, slinging my backpack over his shoulder before I could say anything.

"Are you hoping for something in return?" I teased.

"Something better than what you'd give to Steven."

I chuckled, shooting him a teasing smile. "I don't know, what I had planned for him was pretty special."

Bryce gave me a flat look.

I laughed again, swinging our arms between us as we headed out to the beach.

I ditched my shoes at the edge, letting my feet sink into the sand.

Bryce opted to let his Vans get sandy.