![]() No deep conversations, or playful teasing, or anything. ![]() We’d been best friends, and now we didn’t really talk anymore. ![]() But today he made it clear he was more interested in hanging out with our high school friends than he was with me. It was June now, and we were both home from Vanderbilt University, but I saw my boyfriend less this summer than I did when we were at school. He’d tell me anything, including when he thought I looked like I wasn’t ‘trying’ anymore, or acting like a bitch. ![]() We’d gotten comfortable with each other-maybe too comfortable. I didn’t know if there was a turning point, or a single event that made him different, but he wasn’t the sweet, caring guy I’d known. I’d loved him so much, I’d given him my virginity. Hell, our senior class even voted us ‘Most Likely to Marry Their High School Sweetheart.’ Since then, we’d done almost everything together. Preston Lowe and I had been together for more than three years and had started dating the summer before our junior year of high school. I did it because I needed a break from everyone. Preston had invited our friends over to hang out by his dad’s pool, and when we ran out of beer in the cooler, I volunteered to get the other case from the fridge in the garage. ![]() NASHVILLE IN THE SUMMER wasn’t for the faint of heart-the heat and humidity were oppressive. ![]()
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