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"Mine are always the same," I say, staring blankly. Except I can still see them. Hear them. Right here in front of me with my eyes open. My voice is barely a rumble. "They won’t let me forget."

I return to myself with another shiver.

“I just want to sleep,” Emma says with her face tucked under the blanket.

“I know.” The thought of sleep provokes a yawn.

A movie has replaced the reality show. I don’t know when one ended and the other began.

I recall what I overheard earlier when Rachel was in Emma’s room and decide to change the macabre mood. “So, do you need any guy advice?”

"Don't even start," she says, pushing back the blanket. Her cheeks red with embarrassment. She sits up and proceeds to pelt me with the pillow. I deflect it easily with my arm.

She can finally handle my teasing without shrinking away. This makes my smile widen.

"You should’ve seen your face when Rachel offered to give you the talk." I chuckle, easily picturing her mortification. "I was trying so hard not to laugh."

"Oh, yeah, that was hilarious." Emma crosses her arms. "Can we please not talk about one of the more humiliating moments of my life?"

"Sorry." But I’m still smiling.

"Are those real?" Emma asks out of nowhere.

"What?" I’m not following the sudden U-turn in the conversation.

"Your teeth.”

"That was a rather bizarre change of subject,” I accuse with a raised brow. "And yes, they're real. After years of braces, of course, but they're mine." I shake my head, wondering why I lied. Never needed braces. My father said I was lucky I had his smile. There it is. The reason I preferred the lie. I don’t want to claim anything I inherited from him, not even my teeth.

I open my mouth to ask another invasive question but think better of it—not sure how much I can get away with. She’s just starting to open up. I don’t want her to retreat into herself again. I like this Emma. I’ve seen this version of her more and more, but not nearly enough.

"What?" Emma insists when she notices I’ve silenced myself.

"Forget it," I tease, "you don't want to talk about it."

Emma huffs with a roll of her eyes. "My personal life is not up for conversation."

"Not your personal life," I emphasize, "your sex life."

"I don't have a sex life," she snaps back, blushing intensely.

“I know.”

Emma shoves her head beneath the pillow.

Her prudishness makes me laugh again. Sadie never had a problem talking about sex, as long as it wasn’t in front of Collin. Damn, I need to get them out of my head. Especially after what I almost did because I couldn’t escape thoughts of them together. Bad decisions follow when I allow my past to reign over my mind.

"Why is everyone making such a big deal about it?" I can barely hear her with her head under the pillow.

"Because it is a big deal." I soften my tone to let her know I’m not teasing anymore. "But you're serious, right? You and Evan?"

I wait patiently as she takes me in, like she’s determining if she can trust me. With him.

She nods.

"And what's going to happen when you go to Stanford?"

"Hopefully he's coming with me." She sits back up and smooths her staticky hair.