Harper flopped on her stomach and bounced my bed. "What are we watching?" "Like you won't pick the same movie." I rubbed my better-smelling hair with my towel and handed her my laptop. Not surprisingly, Booksmart sat at the top of my Netflix queue. She gave my screen a firm nod. "Read my mind." I snuggled under the comfort of my blankets next to her and puffed out an exhale. She radiated warmth, so I snuggled into her side and rested my ear on her shoulder. "You're so predictable." "I know what I like. Feel better?" With a flick of my wrists, I tossed my towel at my laundry basket and fell short. "Cleaner, but I need a brain wipe." Thanks to Logan, my brain was inoperable. Our exchange replayed on a loop like a bad movie that I couldn't leave because I was too invested in the plotline. What the fuck was he thinking? On what planet would any girl have been impressed -his apparent favorite word- with the shit he spewed out of his mouth? Finally found something at the beach more irritating than the sand, which I couldn't wash off in my shower. Line after line after line. I was surprised my ears weren't bleeding by the time I got in Harper's car. Whoever this Logan idiot was, he wasn't worth the effort to insult him, despite the limitless inspiration he laid out at my feet. Like I would kiss him. A frog wouldn't kiss him. The way the moonlight cast highlights on his nose and cheekbones and the slight part in his lips painted a tempting picture, but he probably had every kiss-transferable disease. I shuddered. A date was worse. I couldn't spend another minute listening to that arrogant windbag. He would probably take us to a carnival house of mirrors to admire himself from every direction. "Why are the hot ones ruined by their hotness?" The exaggerated gasp from the girl who named him Adonis was a bit much. "You… think he's hot?" "Please, a blind person could sense he was attractive." "I still think you two had a moment back there. You looked like you wanted to either kiss him or beat his ass into the sand." She turned back to the movie. "To answer your question, they know that they're hot. So, they can and will get away with being an asshole." By far the worst one I'd ever met. Thank fuck Jake wasn't there to hear any of that shit. Unless… Logan acted that way on purpose. Why though? He started with genuine sincerity. What a derailment. It didn't matter. He didn't matter and 'arrogant jerk who thinks lewd statements are charming' wasn't in my plan. I left Logan for the sand crabs and blocked his number. That weird-ass exchange was, done and over, except for the annoying way he burrowed into my brain space and parked his giant butt on my hippocampus. Our interaction shouldn't matter, but it did. A lot. "Ahh." I cupped the pressure mounting in my forehead. Harper's lips stopped twitching to the movie lines and she turned to me. "Are you alright?" "Yeah?" I responded with a crack in my voice. Totally unconvincing. "No. That guy obliterated half my brain cells, I swear. I can't - I can't think straight." Her voice softened and her warm, smooth hand rubbed my forearm. "I'm sorry, Elle. About today." "For?" "All of it," she admitted with a sigh. "I'm glad it's over," I replied. Ugh, I still needed to get Jake. "Almost over." She cursed and shook her head. As her lips twitched more movie lines, I reclined against my headboard. Me and football players. How did I attract them? I projected my most powerful 'go away' vibes, why didn't they work on Logan? What the hell was he thinking? Jake bordered tolerable some days, but I wanted nothing to do with the rest of them. For excellent reasons. A shudder ran between my shoulders and trickled down my spine from the haunting images. Goosebumps prickled the hairs on my forearms and I closed my eyes. When we left, Harper said she was proud of me and respected my silence. Unfortunately, my best friend came with an interest in details. She nudged me until I opened my eyes to curiosity swimming in hers. "On the asshole scale of ignorable indifference to bury the evidence, where's Adonis?" "Off the charts." A dry taste coated my tongue. "A football asshole." "Oh, your favorite kind." Her sarcasm contrasted with the sparkle in her eyes. "Can we narrow it down a little? Jake went from grade-B asshole to -" "I'd rather we didn't." I shook my head and rubbed my aching forehead. "I want to forget about him, and any other boy if I can help it." "I haven't seen Jake that riled up since Bright Eyes Foster stuck a flower on your locker last Valentine's Day. Poor kid is probably still picking his underwear out of his crack." "Jake needs to dial it down." My eyes rolled at her reference to a boy who had the same sky blues as her, and Jake's reaction when the poor kid had the wrong locker. Total misunderstanding. "But the last thing I need is Jake finding out, so please let's just forget that happened. But thanks for the reminder. Come on." I shifted out of my covers and walked into Jake's room. A thick, damp, hazmat-level smell rose from the dirty laundry tossed in the general direction of his hamper. Disgusting. "Why are we - oh fuck, it reeks in here!" Harper pulled her shirt collar up over her nose and coughed. "How do you share a bathroom?" "Water shoes in the shower and daily toilet wipes." My nose wrinkled at his crumpled blankets and I grabbed the two-foot-long, cylindrical cardboard tube on them. "We need a diversion, my dear Harper." Her voice was muffled by her shirt mask, and a wrinkle in her nose peeked over the collar. "Another one?" "Yep." My nails pried open the white stopper at the end and revealed a poster. The woman's bikini made Harper's dental floss number look modest. "Less dramatic, more tradition." "Right. I'll be back." By the sound of a slammed cabinet, she went into the bathroom and returned with a small box paired with a smirk. "Why do we do this?" I grabbed a Band-Aid and taped it over one of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman's protruded nipples. "Ha, this one looks like you." "Seriously?" Harper grabbed it from my hands, dipping her chin so the model's body draped over hers. "What part of this reads me? Nipples the size of glue sticks?" Before I answered 'giant breasts and pouty lips,' her fingers rubbed over a nipple, she closed her eyes, and squealed, "Oh, God, Jake! Right there! Fuck me harder!" "And now it's weird." I taped over the second nipple, which was now aligned with Harper's. "I can't believe he still hangs them up," I mumbled at the sea of breasts and ass that adorned the light gray walls between Jake's ridiculous number of football trophies and USC paraphernalia.