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I watched the last trace of Romeo's car disappear from my view, my hands were still clenched tightly that my fingernails dug into my palm.

Romeo meant it when he said he didn't want to talk about what happened. After he said he didn't want to talk, I got out of his car and watched him drive away.

I stepped into my house. I was hurt. I was hurt that Romeo couldn't trust me enough to share his feelings. But then, I shouldn't blame him for not sharing anything with me. What did I really mean to him? I was his pathetic ex-girlfriend who claimed to be over him, yet still couldn't let go of some of my feelings for him.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the sight of James' gleaming white car, parked in the garage. Damn, I forgot about the party. I couldn't consider ditching the party now, not when my date was already here.

I also noticed my mom's car in the driveway. She must have gotten home early. I wasn't nervous about James being alone with my mother. She had met him many times and alwa