The eighteen-year-old girl sighed, her brown eyes scanning the words she had written down in her journal, the one Lion had given her. She frowned and tore the sheet of paper from the book, crumpling it up into a tight ball. "What are you doing, Trust?" she said to herself softly, brushing a few locks of auburn hair out of her eyes. She glanced at the paper in her hand, then took a deep breath and opened it, smoothing it out. "Should I?" She shook her head a little, biting her lower lip. Without letting another thought go through her head, Trust folded the paper into fourths, tightly creasing it. She stood up and walked quickly into the boys' bunkroom. She scanned the room for Tracker's bunk and gently laid the paper down on his pillow, then turned and walked quickly back into the girls' bunkroom before she changed her mind.

You're doing it again. Ruining a perfectly good relationship by fooling around with someone else and then starting to fall for him. Come on, Trust, it's --Tracker.-- He's one of your best friends. You're not supposed to feel this way towards one of your best friends. Besides, you have Davy. He loves you. And you love him.

She sighed and curled up on her bunk. This definitely hadn't been one of her better ideas. She'd just go and take the poem back before he could read it. Right after a little nap, that is. In minutes, Trust had drifted off to sleep, the consequences of what might happen should Tracker read that poem rushing through her head.

She liked Tracker. And more than just a friend, too. She had felt it for a long time, but had never acted on it because she had Davy, and because Tracker had never really seemed to show the same feelings toward her. Until he kissed her. He kissed her. So that had to mean that he liked her just a little bit, right? And she had liked it. She liked him. Maybe more than just like.

But, maybe it hadn't meant anything to him. She was upset that day. Maybe he was just trying to make her feel better. God, why did things have to be so complicated?

"I just read the poem you put on my bunk," Tracker was saying to a now-wide-awake Trust. The poem! She looked up into Tracker's green eyes and the expression on her face must have said everything. "Was I not supposed to?" he asked her with a frown.

Well, now, that depends. On a lot of things. On me, on you. On you, mostly. I know how I feel. But what if you don't feel the same way? What if I just completely ruined our friendship by leaving that for you?

"No. You were," Trust said slowly, avoiding his gaze.

"Then why--? Nevermind," the nineteen-year-old boy said with a sigh. "I don't really know what to say, though."

Great. Just great.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "For making things all awkward."

"I think I made things all awkward when I kissed you the other day."

"But good awkward," she said, glancing up at him.

"You think so?"

"I do." She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

Should I say it?

"I wanna do something," she said, stopping and watching him as he knelt beside her bunk.

"Like what?"

"This." And before she had time to think, she had propped herself up on her elbow and leaned in to kiss her best friend. She didn't really kiss him at first. She brushed her lips lightly against his, and to her surprise and delight, he began to kiss her back. She rolled onto her side and brought her hand to his cheek, stroking it gently while he rested his hand on her waist. She ran her fingers through his rust-colored hair, her heart racing in sheer bliss, as she deepened the kiss.

"Trust, what about Davy?" Tracker asked, breaking the kiss.

Davy. Almost forgot about him. Almost.

"Does he have to know?" she said, then immediately bit her lip and frowned. "I'm sorry. That was wrong. I didn't mean it."

"I really like you. You're one of my good friends," Tracker said to her moments later.

Now, in a perfect world. Well, things would be perfect wouldn't they? But I have a boyfriend. I have Davy.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she said carefully, not looking at him.

This is a great idea. It's perfect. We're perfect for each other. Except, there's still some things about me you don't know. If you knew, maybe you wouldn't like me so much. No. This definitely isn't a good idea. But then. Why does it hurt so much for me to say this to you?

"I, um, should go," Tracker said quietly, standing up.

I ruined it. I just ruined everything.

Trust could barely get up the courage to look at him, but she did, and after she gave him a little nod, he was gone.