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  She’s truly lost her marbles. Seriously. Apparently, being forced away from Griffin has not only broken her sweet little Ally heart, but also her poor little Ally mind.

  “Ally,” I inform her, “Griffin’s never been to my house in his life! I don’t even think he knows where I live.”

  “He’s here,” she whispers. “I can hear his footsteps coming up the stairs. I can’t see him, Jazz! I can’t! I’m not ready. My heart—it will melt and explode and I’ll die. And he’ll feel bad and it will be horrible.”

  I don’t have time to tell her how insane she is being because suddenly there is a KNOCK at my bedroom door.

  No way!!!

  I bolt to answer it, but no freaking way can it possibly be Griffin. Seriously. No. Way. So when I open my door, my jaw drops to the ground. Because there’s Griffin!!! Here. At my house. And Ally knew. She heard his footsteps!

  Of course my mom let Griffin come up. Of course. She was probably hoping Ally would take one look at adorable, wonderful Griffin and know that she is being crazy. That she should stand up to her parents and stand up to her fears and follow her heart—you know, get back together with Griffin and stop torturing herself. And torturing poor Griffin.

  But my mom apparently wasn’t aware that Ally has bionic ears and can hear Griffin’s footsteps from a mile away. (They’re each other’s werewolves or something soul-mate-y like that.) (I don’t know. Ask Griffin.)

  Griffin gives me a tiny grin at my stunned face.

  Still amazed, I silently let him into my room. Standing in my doorway, he gently hands me his get-well offering. Which isn’t exactly the normal, but very Griffin and boy-like. I mean, it’s not a bouquet of balloons or flowers or even a card. It’s a greasy bag of greasy fast food.

  He grins as he hands it to me, “I know Ally would bring you yummy food she baked. But here’s some food I bought. It’s not just burgers, though. There’s onion rings. And chili fries. Look, really I’m just here to check on you.”

  I know why he’s here. Why he cares. He’s checking on me because he knows I’m Ally’s best friend and if anyone misses her half as much as him, it would be me. Also, he knows Ally would want me to be checked-up on. And Griffin is huge. He can take care of things, big time. (Except his heart—because he gave it to Ally. Poor guy.)

  Still standing just inside my doorway, Griffin kind of sniffs. His head jerks up. Um … ? His eyes flicker and then scan around my room. He gives me the tiniest look, like he knows it can’t be true (since Ally now lives three hours away), but he tilts his head as he asks, “Was Ally here?”

  “Uh. No,” I lie. Because Ally would kill me if I ratted her out (though I want to. Really, really, really bad).

  Griffin nods slightly. “Okay, I know you’re lying, but that’s okay. Enjoy the burgers—and get feeling better.” He turns to leave.

  I blurt out quickly, “Why do you think she was here?”

  “Look, no. I know she was here—or is here. I can smell her.”

  My eyes widen. “Smell her?”

  “It’s a good smell. And … I’m glad she came to see you.”

  His eyes flit hopefully about the room—like now he knows. For sure. Ally wasn’t just here; she’s still here. And he’s tempted to bolt to the closet and burst it open and make off with her—keep her in the trunk of his car where her parents can’t find her, or elope with her to Las Vegas. The only thing that stops him is the sight of Destiny.

  He makes a strangled choking noise when he sees her. Big, tough Griffin is spooked by Destiny. Because she’s crazy (for Griffin). She wants to “comfort” him. It terrifies him.

  “Um, okay. I’m glad Ally’s up on what’s going on with you—I’m going to go. ‘Bye.” He says all this really fast. Like his heart is being axed, since he knows Ally is here. Hiding from him. (Poor guy!)

  “’Bye Griffin!” Destiny calls after him, but he doesn’t look back.

  Watching him go breaks my heart.

  He could smell Ally? I sniff my room—nothing. But then again, I’m not a big ol’ missing-Ally-puppy-dog. Apparently, they have special noses.

  I turn toward my closet, informing the still closed door, “You two seriously need to get back together. Apparently, you both have super-powers towards each other. He can smell you when you aren’t even in the room, and you can HEAR him when he doesn’t even say a word.”

  It’s exactly like Griffin secretly used to say (when Ally wasn’t around to hear him)—they are each other’s werewolves.

  CHAPTER 8

  In my bed, as I drift off to sleep I think about Luke, about his warm brown eyes, and what it would be like to have him take me in his arms, to have him kiss me.

  He’s my werewolf.

  CHAPTER 9

  I didn’t go to school today. Mom wouldn’t let me.

  For most of the morning I worked on my guitar (Luke said I’m getting good!) and I played a bunch of online video games because well, because that’s what I do (I rock). Then at lunch, I poured myself a bowl of Coco-coco Puffs and ate them on the couch watching Buffy reruns, figuring I wouldn’t move from the couch until three. My plans got heaved out the window though when Renee came home for lunch—holding hands with Jonah.

  Ack!

  I jumped off the couch so fast there was a sonic boom.

  Renee scowled at me like I was acting like a lunatic, and embarrassing her, but I didn’t care, I had my spoon ready as a weapon and I planned to race up the stairs and bolt my door.

  Renee’s scowl disappeared when she turned to Jonah, though. She gave him this I-told-you-she’s-a-nut-case look and said: “You know my step-sister, Jazz, right?”

  Though she totally knows he knows me. Duh. He hit me with a car!—then had to be kicked out of my hospital room. A thousand times.

  Yet she acted like there was every chance in the world he had no clue who I was. (In her dreams.)

  (Well, mine too.)

  While being glowingly introduced, Jonah smiled at me all I want to grab you like. I almost bolted up the stairs. But all he said was, “How are you feeling?”

  The way he asked it, like he was more than willing to give me a sponge bath, and tuck me in my bed (again), I growled, “I’m awesome. All better.”

  Renee rolled her eyes. “That’s what she’s been saying, but she hasn’t combed her hair in a week.”

  That wasn’t really true. I combed my hair just yesterday. But I ignored her. So did Jonah. He seemed quite enraptured with my bed-head. Like it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. And so was my chocolate-stained robe.

  It sucked so bad that he was able to just waltz right in here—into my private life. My house. I wanted to make it clear that he couldn’t do the same to my room. Well, not again. Just break into it whenever he wants, and leave me more gifts. I wanted to make it clear—if I had to tell on him, I would. I would tell everyone. My parents, Luke, the police. Everyone. I wanted to make sure he absolutely understood that. That I wasn’t going to be a softie anymore. So I gritted my teeth and said, “I’m totally better and strong now—a total rock.”

  Jonah smiled, seeming amused. “Yeah?”

  I meant my heart was a total rock. No more sympathy for his tragic past. But my words got all twisted up, and what came out of my mouth was, “Look, don’t mess with me.”

  “Jazz!” Renee shrieked, as though I was embarrassing her, making a psycho scene with her shiny, prized hottie.

  But Jonah just smiled, like he was finding this all entertaining. And yeah, it probably was hilarious to him—my sister inviting him over to my house.

  And okay, I probably was hilarious to him too—with my veiled threats. I mean, since I hadn’t even told Luke what he’s been doing. Luke, who swore he’d knock Jonah’s block off if he ever did anything to me like he’s been doing since my coma.

  So, yes. I admit it. I’m very, very push-over-y. (I have like, a thousand stray-cats.) (And stray ex-boyfriends.)

  I need intervention.

  Jonah’s
eyes glistened with amusement.

  Totally just for show, he put his arms around Renee. He gave her a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. It made me cringe, but Renee, of course, practically melted into a puddle. Jonah had to hold her up to keep her from falling at his feet.

  I knew the kiss was only to prove a point. He had me where he wanted me. He had my crush-struck sister—and she wasn’t going to believe a word I said about his psycho-ness. And she was going to get destroyed. If Jonah so chose.

  For a moment I just stood where I was at, staring at the dude through narrowing slitted eyes. There didn’t seem to be anything I could do about him in my house. Not at the moment anyway, since Renee was under his spell, and my mom wasn’t home to puke out the truth to (totally rat out and tattle on the psycho that I had been protecting. D’oh!).

  I grunted. Loudly.

  With as much dignity as I could manage wearing a chocolate-stained bathrobe and Tweety Bird slippers, I turned away from Jonah’s smug face and marched up to my room.

  Renee gazed gaga-eyed at Jonah as I stomped away, seeming to have forgotten I even existed, but I could feel Jonah’s eyes follow me up the stairs.

  CHAPTER 10

  After lunch, Renee and Jonah went back to school. I heard them go. But I was busy texting Ally, “Should I just TELL on Jonah?”

  Ally’s quick reply: “Yes. Definitely.”

  “But …”

  “Jazz, he can’t just go in your room whenever he feels like it. That’s called breaking and entering.”

  “But it’s Jonah. HE’s broken.”

  “Right. Exactly. TELL on him.”

  “But he’s like a confused puppy-dog. Like he doesn’t really, truly know that what he’s doing is wrong.”

  “Jazz, he KNOWS! You need a new boyfriend. MAJORLY. You’re semi, sort-of liking his psycho attention.”

  “No. Wrong.”

  I can mentally see her lifting her eyebrows. “Jazz.”

  “Okay … barely.”

  Now she’s laughing. “That’s so warped.”

  “I know.”

  She sighs. “Go talk to Luke. He always makes you forget there is even another guy on the planet. Plus, if you tell him about Jonah he will be your hero. You LOVE Luke being your hero.”

  “I really am warped, huh?”

  “But despite that, awesome.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Right after Mom gets home from work, she and I go to Renee’s chorus concert. Normally, I’d totally skip it. But today, I’m just thrilled to be allowed out of the house, even if it’s just for this—to hear our lame school choir. (Though for all I know, they’re awesome.) Whatever. Like I said, I’m just psyched to leave my tomb.

  But I do a double-take when Mom and I enter the gym. ‘Cause Luke is sitting up in the front bleachers. I wince. I forgot Gia is in the choir too.

  Luke waves and gestures for me to sit with him, but I don’t. Instead, I turn to Mom. “I don’t feel well.” I rub my sweaty forehead. “I’m going to go back home.”

  It’s no lie. I don’t feel well. But if Gia weren’t here, I’d probably stay. Only, she is here, and I don’t feel up to watching Luke gaze at her all starry-eyed all night. I mean, I’m already sick.

  Unfortunately though, when I turn away from him Luke tilts his head, then gets up from the bleachers and follows me out of the gym.

  “What’s up with you?” he asks. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” I tell him, or more like snap at him.

  But he doesn’t get it. “I’ll walk with you,” he says.

  “No, don’t. I don’t want you to.” I keep walking. “Stay and listen to your girlfriend.”

  “Why are you acting like this?” he calls after me, but I just keep walking.

  I leave the building by myself. I head for home feeling dizzy and sick. The spots are back. They’re zooming in and out, going wild.

  “Jazz.”

  I hear my name, but it sounds far off. So distant. I turn to look. It’s Luke. He’s down the street, maybe half a block.

  I want to yell to him, tell him I’m falling, but I can’t. Nothing comes out of my mouth. I wanted to tell him to catch me. But somehow he’s already doing it. He’s here. Beside me. I can feel his arms cradle me as I fall.

  Luke.

  CHAPTER 12

  When I wake, I’m on the sidewalk, my head resting on Luke’s lap, his gorgeous eyes full of concern.

  “You’re awake.” He sounds so relieved and astonished it makes me smile.

  He puts away his phone. I guess he was going to call 9-1-1. Instead, he stares into my eyes, the worry still there. “I was afraid you went into another coma.”

  “No.” I swallow, trying to piece things together. “I just fainted.”

  He looks at me closely. “Are you okay now?”

  I glance around, feeling sort of dazed. “Yeah. I think so. Just weak.”

  Luke gently helps me to my feet. Then tenderly walks with me home.

  “Isn’t Gia going to be mad?” I glance sideways at Luke, knowing she will be. Luke’s leaving the recital to walk me home will make her explode.

  Luke raises his eyebrows. “She already is mad. But she’ll get over it.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know you two don’t get along, but I wish you could. You both mean a lot to me.”

  “I know,” I grit my teeth, “… I’m your best-friend.”

  “Yeah,” he says it kind of hurt. Like I was mocking him. And I don’t know, I guess I was.

  Now I feel bad.

  “Thanks for helping me home.”

  He practically carries me up my stairs, then he sits at my desk, playing my 3DS as I drift off to sleep, warming me with his words, “I’m going to sit here and guard you until your mom gets home.”

  Drowsily I admit to him, “I fainted yesterday too,” so tempted to tell him about Jonah. Tempted to let him be my hero. Well, even more of my hero than he’s already being. Purrr.

  “I know you fainted yesterday,” Luke says softly, his voice so gentle. “I picked you up off your yard and put you in your bed.”

  “Oh.” My eyes pop open. Wide. “You did that?”

  My heart pounds wild. So thrilled. And astonished.

  The thought has me all tingly and hot—big, tough Luke had carefully taken off my shoes and jacket and put unconscious me in my bed. Tucked me in. (Maybe even kissed my forehead.) Then carefully folded my jacket over my shoes, so I could find them together in my messy room.

  I blink at him, so tremble-y and stunned, totally mind-blown. “I-I thought someone was following me home.”

  “Someone was,” he says softly. “Me.”

  He murmurs huskily, staring down at his game, though he gives me a tiny look, “I wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”

  My heart melts. (I love him!)

  Dreamy, happy sigh. He followed me home.

  My hero!!!!!!

  CHAPTER 13

  Mom wakes me gently.

  “Hey sleepy-head,” she says soothingly. “I shooed Luke home just a while ago. He didn’t seem to want to go until you woke.” She smiles. “Is something special happening between you two?”

  If she means is he my every breath, then yes, something special is happening between us. And has been since we were five.

  But I give my cautious answer, “I don’t know.”

  She smiles knowingly. “Since you had your car accident he’s been very protective of you. I think the boy has finally realized he’s in love with you.”

  My heart slams against my chest. Breathe, Jazz!

  “Mom!” I protest. “We’re only friends.”

  She laughs. “With friends like Luke, I’d be careful. The way he’s been towards you lately, you’re going to wake up and find yourself married—with oodles of kids. And a cat.”

  “We’ve been best friends forever.”

  “But he’s only started to look at you the way he does recently.”

  My stomach feels all fluttery
and excited. It’s like: ‘I know, right???’ But I try to act chill, totally non-excited. Because this is my mom. “He has a girlfriend—Gia. Remember?”

  She smiles, “I’d give that another week—tops.”

  Okay, this is too much for me. My heart seriously can’t take it. I mean, I faint at the drop of a hat lately. So mentions of Luke and love—in the same sentence—and then my mom predicating a relationship demise of a girl I hate—well, it’s too much.

  But instead of Mom calling an ambulance like any wise, responsible human being should, she goes on teasingly, “I’m going to have to put new locks on your windows—and maybe bars.”

  “Mom!” I groan.

  “Maybe get you a can of mace—just in case.” She smiles, “I mean, the boy is icky.”

  Which is absolutely hilarious—and she knows it. Yet she almost manages to keep a straight face. Almost. But, do’h, obviously she knows I love Luke. Apparently the whole freakin’ world knows. (Well, except Luke.)

  Reluctantly she says all hesitantly and soberly, finally getting to the sad reason she woke me up, “Sweetie, I got a text from work while I was at Renee’s concert. I have to fly to Seattle.” She gestures at her already packed suitcase sitting in my open doorway. “I wish so much I didn’t have to go—leave you right now, while you’re not feeling well. But it’s an emergency—quite a mess.” She sighs, rubbing her temples like she has a massive headache, no doubt caused by the ‘mess’ in Seattle. “I should be home by Monday. If you have any problems call Mrs. Katz.”

  She turns back to me at my door, looking concerned. “I’m so sorry to leave you right now. Are you going to be okay?”

  She has to go. I can tell.

  I nod. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “Be sure to call Mrs. Katz if you need anything.”

  Mrs. Katz is like a hundred and ten. It takes her half an hour to cross our living room. I truly doubt she’d be much help in an emergency. Still, Mom is in a hurry. I can tell she needs to go. Now.