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“Um, here.” He thrust the pipe at her and took a step backward. He wanted to say something cool. He wanted to say something—anything—that might make her see him in some way other than a backwoods Native kid who didn’t know squat about the real world.

He knew things. He knew plenty. He knew Annabeth was a good girl, that deep down she was decent and kind. He knew that in his heart, would be willing to stake his very life on it. She was better than her reputation, and she was better than any of the losers she was hanging out with tonight. Probably even better than Teddy himself.

She was an angel, a pure and lovely angel, and she just needed someone to remind her of that.

“Okay, well, thanks,” she said now, and took a quick hit from the pipe. She passed it to her friend, and the pair of them started to turn away from Teddy in dismissal.

“Wait,” Teddy blurted. He sucked in a breath as she paused, looked back at him. “I, um, I want you to know that I … I think you’re really beautiful.”

Her friend stifled a laugh behind her gloved hand as Teddy spoke. But not Annabeth. She wasn’t laughing. She stared at him without speaking, without blinking. Something soft shone in her eyes—confusion, maybe. Her friend was snorting now, but Annabeth was still listening, not mocking him at all.

“I think you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever seen. You are … you’re amazing. I really mean that. Amazing in every way.”

Shit, he was repeating himself, but he didn’t care. The sound of his own voice, free of the stammer that made him hate to talk at all, shocked him. He swallowed and took a fortifying breath, prepared to put it all out there for her—everything he’d been thinking since he saw her dancing on the poorly lit, run-down stage in the city. “I think you’re perfect, Annabeth. You deserve to be respected and … and cherished, you know? You’re special. You’re an angel, and you deserve to be honored. By a man who will take care of you and protect you and … and love you—”

The air next to Teddy stirred, carrying the stink of whiskey and the spice of Chad Bishop’s overpowering cologne. “K-k-kiss me, Amber Joy. P-p-please! Let me t-t-touch your p-p-perfect t-t-tits!”

Teddy felt all the blood drain from his head as Chad strode over to Annabeth and wrapped his arm possessively around her shoulders. His humiliation compounded a hundred times to witness the sloppy, tongue-heavy kiss Chad slapped on Annabeth’s mouth—a kiss she didn’t reject, even if she seemed less than welcoming of it.

When Chad finally let her loose, Annabeth glanced at Teddy, then gave Chad a weak shove of her palm against his chest. “You’re retarded, you know that?”

“And you’re so damn hot you m-m-make my c-c-cock—”

“Shut up.” The words were out of Teddy’s mouth before he could stop them. “Shshut the fuck up. Don’t … don’t speak t-t-to her like that.”

Chad’s eyes narrowed. “I know you ain’t talking to me, asshole. T-t-t-t-tell me you’re not standing there, asking me to k-k-kick your sorry ass, T-T-Teddy T-T-T-Toms.”

When he started to lunge forward, Annabeth put herself in front of him. “Leave the poor kid alone. He can’t help the way he talks.”

Teddy wished he could disappear. All the confidence he’d felt a minute ago with her vanished under Chad Bishop’s taunting and Annabeth’s wounding pity. Nearby, he heard Skeeter and Annabeth’s friend joining ranks with Chad. They were all laughing at him now. All of them mocking his stutter, their voices smashing together, ringing in his ears.

Teddy turned around and ran. He jumped on his snow-machine and cranked the starter. The second the old engine sputtered to life, Teddy opened the throttle. He gunned it, tearing away from the gathering in a state of misery and fury.

He never should have gone with Skeeter tonight. He never should have drunk that whiskey or smoked that shit in Skeeter’s pipe. He should have stayed home, should have listened to his father.

That regret intensified as the miles fell away behind him and he neared home. Some five hundred yards away from the cluster of hand-hewn