Over the course of the following week, I try my best to keep my life separate from Luke's.

However, it doesn't quite work out the way I want it to.

As an excuse not to sit with Luke's friends during lunch, I end up skipping the period altogether to study in the library. I come to the decision that it will probably be best if I continue to slowly drift away from Emma and Piper, Peter included, so that they'll become accustomed to life without me once again. I'm hoping that Luke will decide on his own to reappear into their daily lives to keep the focus off of my missing appearance, though of course that doesn't work out.

After the first day I don't sit with my new friends at lunch, Emma corners me the next morning at my locker. She asks me where I was during our break the previous afternoon and why I never showed at the table, and I scramble to come up with some sort of viable excuse. Before I'm able to utter a word, she draws on to say that I better not try disappearing on her again because—whether I like it or not—she's my friend now, and I'm stuck with her.

Though my plan is to allow Luke to return to his simple life without placing myself in the middle of his problems, I can't deny that Emma's words warm my heart.

So I end up returning to my usual table for lunch after my talk with Emma, not surprised that Luke decides not to associate with us for the entire week. As far as I can tell, his friends are still pretty upset over his immature behavior. I do continue to ignore Luke as best as I can, however, keeping my space from him. In return, he offers me the same. I suppose I'm doing him a favor, regardless of whether he knows my avoiding him is intentional or simply out of hatred for him. I do still put in an effort to hang out with Alissa, though only when she isn't with her brother. In English class, I don't bother trying to talk to him. I come to find that Luke does seem somewhat happier when I'm not around him, so I fully intend to keep on with what I'm doing.

I come to find that what Piper once said to me about Luke being considered the Prince of Crestwood is seemingly true. Observing the way those around him treat Luke, you'd think he was actual royalty. Girls fawn over him and a multitude of guys casually strike up conversation with him when he's roaming the halls. It's clear to me that Luke doesn't view his peers with the same regard, as he doesn't seem to keep any particular people in his circle. Besides Piper, Emma, and Peter, I haven't seen him make much of an effort to hang around anyone. I also notice that nowadays the only time Luke talks with his friends when I'm not around, which I suppose is to be expected.

As of right now, I haven't had any sort of interaction with Luke in exactly a week. I'm not quite sure why this realization bothers me, as that's all Luke has ever seemed to do. Bother me, that is.

Sitting up in my bed, I ran a hand through my dark hair. I've been studying for a math test I have the following day, though I'm hardly paying attention to the numbers on the page in front me anymore. I guess I got too lost in thought, thinking about Luke—of all people.

I close my textbook before setting it down on my nightstand, sighing as my gaze rolls upward toward the ceiling. I feel like a mess, and I'm certain I look the part as well. Even though I'm freezing, I toss aside my blanket and rise from my bed, wandering toward my desk and grabbing a notebook and pen from my bed. I shove the notebook back into my book-bag, setting the pen onto the surface of my desk. I come to the conclusion that I have done more than enough studying for one day, and I could definitely use a break.

Standing up, I catch myself absentmindedly staring out of the window. It's dark out by now, but a light shining from the adjacent house captivates my attention.

Like I'm in sort of trance, I wander over to my window for a closer look. Peering through the glass and into the windowpane of the room opposite mine, movement catches my eye. And just like that, I spot a glimpse of Luke. I can clearly see him perched on his bed, face buried in that book I constantly notice him reading in English class.

I can't help noticing that a pair of dark glasses adorn his face, which I'm unable to deny suit him perfectly. It's as this thought passes through my mind that I realize I'm staring, and Luke could glance up and catch sight of me at any moment. I take a step back from my window before drawing my curtains closed, just to be certain I won't risk another peek.

After all, seeing Luke does nothing but fill my chest with an odd aching sort of pain these days.

»»----- -----««

I wake the next morning in a panic, fearing that I've overslept and will therefore be late for school. It's as I'm rushing to get ready that I remember it's finally the weekend, and with that realization I jump right back into bed and begin to drift off once again into a peaceful slumber.

Well, at least that was the plan.

Before I'm actually able to fall asleep, I'm startled by my bedroom door being burst open. I turn my attention to the front of my room to find Kendall in the doorway, glaring at me with her arms crossed. With a loud groan, I pull my blanket all the way up to my face, hoping that if I ignore my sister she'll just go away.

"Oh, no you don't," Kendall snaps, making her way over to my bed and ripping the blanket off of me in record time. "You need to get up," she persists, shaking me. I don't know what my sister's problem is, or why she's so intent on getting me out of bed. All I know is that I have a strong urge to kick her right now.

"Why?" I whine as my eyes slowly begin to adjust to the brightness of my room, frowning as I blink up at Kendall in annoyance.

"Because you look disgusting and the Bradford's are coming over for brunch!" Kendall cries, as if this is news I should have already known.

With the mention of the name Bradford, I bolt upright. Because Luke is no doubt going to be with his family and if he's coming to my house again, I refuse to give him further reason to poke fun at me or try to make my life miserable.

So I force myself to get out of bed and hop into the shower before readying myself for the day, trying to look at least halfway decent. It dawns on me that Kendall didn't have to warn me about the Bradford's coming over at all, and I make a mental note to thank her later even though I'm certain I'll never go through with it.

Just as I finish dressing, I hear the sound of the doorbell chiming downstairs. I hesitate a moment before making my way out of my room, finding myself nervous to be around Luke. I tell myself this is because he's always a complete ass to me and has nothing to do with how good he looked in his glasses, though even I have a hard time convincing myself that's true.

"Jade!" Mrs. Bradford exclaims once I enter the living room, offering me a warm smile. "You look lovely!"

I glance down at my black lace shirt and jeans, sure that I couldn't look any farther from lovely if I tried. I notice Luke rolling his eyes at his mother's compliment off to the side, which only makes me more positive that Mrs. Bradford is simply trying to be nice.

Nevertheless, I return Mrs. Bradford's smile and express my thanks before perching myself on the end of the leather couch, wanting nothing more than to return to my bed and sleep.

It isn't long before my mother walks off with Mrs. Bradford, wandering into the kitchen for tea. Shortly afterward, Luke's father follows after mine into Dad's study, no doubt going off to discuss more business arrangements.

Just when I think I'm free of the adults, my mother pops her head back into the living room and suggests, "Kendall, why don't you go and show Alissa around the garden? The roses are looking especially beautiful this morning."

I go to offer taking Alissa with me instead, but the glare my mother shoots my way stops me short. With that, Kendall and Alissa make their way to the backdoor, neither looking too thrilled at the prospect of having to spend time together.

"Jade." Mother's green eyes find mine once again as she says, "Why don't you show Luke up to your room?"

I gape at my mother, wondering if I heard her correctly. I know my mother didn't just tell me to take a boy up to my room, especially considering how uptight she's always been. I can understand what she's trying to do here, pairing Luke and I together as we're close in age, but I don't see why Kendall gets to take Alissa to the garden while I'm expected to take Luke up to my room?

Mom seems to sense that I have a problem with her request, because she inhales a sharp breath before forcing a smile. "Please don't make me ask you again."

I grit my teeth, flushing as my mother chides me in front of Luke, a wave of embarrassment flooding my veins. I try to compose myself, returning my mother's pressed smile as I mumble, "Yes, Mother."

"Behave, Luke!" Mrs. Bradford calls after her son as we begin to ascend the staircase. Glancing at Luke over my shoulder, I can tell that he is just as upset with this situation as I am. "And mind your manners!"

Neither Luke nor I talk as we climb the stairs. He simply follows after me in silence, arms crossed stiffly over his chest. I make my way toward my bedroom with Luke trailing along, staring down at his phone as he walks.

Turning the knob on my bedroom door, I mumble beneath my breath, "This is my room."

"Really now?" Luke questions with sarcasm, allowing the door to swing closed behind him as he follows after me. "I would have never guessed."

I roll my eyes at his remark, deciding not to validate it with a response. Instead, I wander over to the other side of my room and begin to point out random objects, such as my dresser and nightstand. Luke raises his eyebrows curiously as I do so, no doubt wondering why I'm bothering to do something so ridiculous. I finish my little tour by taking a seat on the edge of my bed and smoothing down my comforter, saying, "And this is my bed."

I know I'm acting stupid, though I'm really just trying to break the ice that's freezing over between the two of us. I'm not expecting any sort of reaction from Luke however, simply trying to find something to fill the silence drifting between us.

I suppose that's why I'm rather shocked to see Luke crack the faintest of smiles, which he tries to hide with an eye roll.

"Well, then." Luke strolls up to the opposite side of my bed, smirking slightly. The next thing I know, Luke is reaching for the teddy bear I have owned since the age of five by its little arm, teasing, "What's this?" By the way his eyes are gleaming, I can tell Luke believes he has somehow embarrassed me. However, I don't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's right. After all, I've been publicly arrested and had that horrible experience be used for headlines in top magazines all across the country. It's going to take a little more than Luke Bradford making fun of me for still sleeping with a teddy bear to make me crack.

With this in mind, I shrug and casually say, "That's Miles."

Luke seems taken aback by my answer. Glancing down at the ratty brown bear in his hand curiously, he mutters, "You have a teddy bear named Miles?"

I take it as a good sign that, for once, Luke isn't snapping at me or glaring my way as if he wishes I was dead.

"Yeah," I admit with nonchalance. "He's the only guy I've ever slept with."

The second those horrid words leave my mouth, I cringe. I can feel my cheeks as they burst into flames, unable to believe that I really just said that. In my head, I know there's nothing to be ashamed about over what I just relayed, as I'm only seventeen and though I've dated before, I've never found the right person I want to take that next step with. Yet I can't help feeling embarrassed, considering the person I just told this information to is Luke fucking Bradford.

Working up the nerve to risk a glance at Luke, I find that he doesn't seem very shocked by my revelation. I have no idea what I expected his reaction to be, though I'm grateful he isn't making fun of me. Yet, at least.

Luke sets Miles back onto my mattress gently, propping him up against a throw pillow. "Nice to know" is all he says in reference to my previous comment, and I'm suddenly glad he can't read my thoughts. I don't want Luke to know that he has just done me a huge favor by not reveling in my embarrassment, and I don't want him thinking I now owe him or anything.

I find myself fumbling over my words as I mumble. "Could you . . . uh . . . please not tell anyone about what I just said?"

Luke's gaze lifts and finds mine, his cobalt blue eyes intently holding my dark green. His expression is seemingly offended by my request, and I'm unsure as to why.

"Who would I tell?" he questions, shaking his head as his expression turns baffled. "No, not who would I tell—Why would I tell anyone?"

I shrug wordlessly, glancing down at my comforter. "I don't know," I say, barely audible. "Because, you know, you don't like me?"

Exhaling, Luke runs a hand through his blond hair. "Regardless of whether or not I like you, I'm not that much of a dick. You told me something in confidence. It's only fair I keep it that way. Lord, Jade. Do you always think the least of people? Or is it just me?"

With his last question, a surge of pain rushes through me. I can't deny that Luke is right, as I do have a tendency to always assume the worst of others. It's as if I've become so accustomed to people hurting me (ahem, my family), I've started to think that everyone else wants to do the same.

"I'm a Montgomery," I say in a quiet tone, finding Luke's gaze as I offer a sad little shrug. "It's in my nature to be wary of people."

Luke parts his lips as if he's going to say something, though closes his mouth once again quickly. His expression is sorrowful as he turns his back to me, mindlessly glancing out of my bedroom window. I can tell that he seems to feel the same way I do when it comes to trusting others. After all, his childhood couldn't have differed much from my own. In the world Luke and I grew up in, the number of people you can trust is always small enough to be counted.

"Your bedroom faces mine," Luke states, abruptly changing the subject. When he turns around to face me once again, I find his expression to be neutral, carefully concealing what he's feeling.

I'm unsure of how exactly to respond to his statement, as we've established this fact a while ago, the time he caught me staring.

I can't help smirking as I blurt, "Horrible, isn't it?"

Luke laughs—the sound one that shocks me. There's a genuine smile on his lips as he mumbles, "Yeah, for me."

I roll my eyes at this, rising from my bed and crossing my arms over my chest. "Really now?" I tease, fighting back a smile. "You're not the one whose view from their window is the horror that is Luke Bradford."

"I know." He shifts his weight, crossing his arms over his chest and mirroring my stance as if to mock me. "My scenic view is obstructed by the monstrosity that is Jade Montgomery."

I gasp in mock-offense. "You take that back right now, Pretty Boy."

"When pigs fly, Clumsy," Luke fires back, smirking as he does.

"Well, if you jumped out of the window, those few seconds before you splattered all over the ground would count as a pig flying."

Luke's grin is cocky, my insult seemingly going in one ear and right out of the other. In a mock sort of coo, Luke taunts, "Really? I thought a pig flew when you fell down the stairs the first time we met."

I notice that there is something slightly different about mine and Luke's banter. Unlike usual—when we are insulting each other with a burning hatred that has us at one another's throats—it's almost like we're teasing one another the way two friends would. When Luke glances my way, I notice that his expression is devoid of its usual burning glare. And when I speak to him, I find it hard to resist a smile.

Soon enough, the both of us are laughing, though neither of us can seem to remember what it is we're laughing about exactly. As our laughter shortly fades, Luke and I share a glance, our gazes almost timidly meeting the other's. Sitting here, I can't help thinking that this change in the atmosphere between Luke and I is almost . . . well, it's almost nice.

I have an idea that—in another world—Luke and I could maybe be friends. We're similar enough when it comes to certain things, such as the way we were raised, our families, and our mutual love of witty comebacks. Not to mention the fact that I have befriended the same people Luke has known since his childhood. And even though my reality belongs to a world in which Luke and I are not friends, in this moment I get my hopes up that maybe the two of us could work things out . . .

"I'm sorry," I blurt out of nowhere. Luke shoots me a curious glance, though I don't give him the chance to speak before I'm rambling on. "About your friends and all. I shouldn't have—I mean, they were your friends first, before I even met them, and I just . . . I didn't meant to . . ." I trail off suddenly, unsure of how to put what I'm feeling into words. I've never been very good at showing emotion, and the fact that I'm trying to express what I'm feeling and apologize to Luke Bradford at once only makes it that much harder.

"I'll stop," I say finally, unable to look at Luke. "Sitting at the lunch table, I mean. Technically, it was yours first. And you obviously don't want me there, so . . . it's yours."

Risking a glance at Luke, I'm startled to find that he isn't glaring at me in hatred or disgust. I suppose I had been prepared to face that cold stare of his, frosty eyes freezing me in place. Instead, I look up to find that Luke appears almost . . . regretful.

"You don't need to apologize to me, Jade," Luke murmurs. I notice that his tone is one he's never used with me before, his voice patient and measured. I've only ever heard him regard Emma this way before. "I was being a dick, honestly. I mean, you're allowed to be friends with whomever you want to be friends with. And it's just a stupid table. Not like I own it."

Taking in Luke's words, I find myself feeling discomfort. I'm not the kind of girl who apologizes often, nor do I make it a habit to reason with others. I've always been the kind of person to stick to my own league, ruled by the fire within that often gets me into trouble. It seems that—in this moment—I have made an exception for Luke.

And I don't necessarily mind that.

"So, does this mean you'll start sitting with your friends again?" I question. "Because they really miss you."

"I guess that depends"—crossing his arms over his chest, Luke glances down at me with gleaming eyes—"on what happens between you and I from here on out."

"That sounds like a proposition. Do you have something in mind?"