“Nat?”

“What?” She seemed irritated with me. So what else was new?

I turned around and sat back down. “Do you think?” Oh man, I really needed to find a substitute for all the alcohol and pot, because right now all I wanted to do was go get high or drunk or jump off a cliff. Ever since I quit partying, I felt like a complete and total girl. Commercials about dogs made me teary-eyed, and last week when I saw an old man cross the street with his little wife and watched him pat her hand, I grinned like a fool and whistled the entire way home. Demetri Daniels does not whistle.

“Spit it out, Demetri.”

“Fine,” I grumbled and looked away from her. I couldn’t look at her if I had to ask this. “Do you think that true love, the type you have with Alec, do you think it could happen twice in a lifetime?”

Nat flipped off the TV.

Aw, crap. She only did that when she needed to concentrate.

“Demetri, if this is about us…”

“No! Hell, no!” Nat scowled. “No, not like that. I don’t mean it like that. What I meant was it’s not about us. I know how it sounds. Sorry. I just… I don’t know. What I guess I’m asking is, do you think I could be lucky enough to have that pull that you have with Alec again in my lifetime?”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

I looked at her. I mean, really looked at her. Damn, the girl was too adorable. Was she serious? “Nat, I’m a recovering druggie and alcoholic at nineteen. I almost died. Because I’m a rock star, I have one true friend — two if you count my brother. And, oh right, I’m stuck in Seaside, Oregon, for the next year while you go off and have the time of your life in L.A. Add that in with all the intense psychotherapy I’m in from two years ago when my girlfriend not only cheated on me with my brother, but died in a tragic car accident with their son, and yeah… I guess I’m being a little pessimistic. Perhaps a bit depressing, but come on, Nat! Shit, look at me!”

Nat’s lip began to tremble.

Crap. I made her cry.

Alec was going to have me by the balls.

“Nat, I didn’t mean…” I reached out to touch her arm.

She shook her head; a single tear ran down her cheek.

“Demetri, I’m so sorry!”

I hated it when Nat cried. It made my chest hurt, and I knew Alec would be pissed that I was the one that caused it. I had always caused it. Feeling like a total ass, I pulled her into my arms and shushed her. “Nat, you know I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I guess I just want to know there’s more out there for me, you know?

More to look forward to than a life full of twelve steps and empty fame.”

Nat sniffled and pulled back. “Do you really think that poorly of yourself? That it would be impossible for someone to fall in love with you?”

I shook my head. “It’s not that easy, Nat. Everyone loves me.”

She punched me and laughed as she wiped a few tears away.

“Nat.” I groaned. “It’s true, and you know it. But who’s ever going to see me for me and fall in love with me? The real me.” I wanted to smack myself. Why was it so important that I find what Nat and Alec had anyway? My heart clenched a bit in my chest. I tried to ignore the pain. I mean, it could be heartburn or something, right? It just sucked, and honestly, after all the paparazzi stopped stalking my every waking move, and after Alec left for L.A… I was kind of, lonely. Shit. I was a freaking girl.

Nat was silent. She bit her lip, sniffling still. “Demetri, nobody’s going to fall in love with you.”

My heart pounded loudly in my chest as the truth of her words hit home. I opened my mouth to speak, but she kept talking.

“Not until you learn to love yourself. Not until you learn to forgive. You can’t ask someone to love you when you still don’t even love yourself.”

Natalee Murray, ladies and gentleman. Wisest woman in the world. “You sure you’re only eighteen?”

“Going on ninety,” she joked and punched me in the arm.

“Seriously, Demetri. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s good you’re staying back here this summer. I think it will be good for you to just lay low. Besides, Mom said that you still had some things to work through with her rehab program.”

Nat’s mom was one of the best addiction counselors on the west coast. How fortunate for me that she lived in the most boring place in the world. Also known as the taffy capital of the universe.

I groaned. “I’m going to be bored out of my mind.”

“You have Bob!” she said enthusiastically, pointing at my security guard and, sadly, one of my only friends if you didn’t count Nat or Alec. And again, the loneliness reared its ugly head.

“He’s bald and watches American Idol to fill the void that killing too many people has put in his life.”

“Heard that,” Bob mumbled from the corner.

“Wasn’t whispering!” I shouted.

Bob cleared his throat.

“Sorry, Bob,” we said in unison.

Ever since the accident, the media had been relentless, so Bob was the only relationship I was in. Sadly, I looked forward to seeing his ugly mug every day. Of course, it may have to do with the fact that he made coffee every morning.

One would think that after the accident things would have died down. Instead, not a day went by that I didn’t see some new story about myself on the news. That’s always fun, seeing ugly pictures of myself with headlines above them saying I’m on drugs.