Oh. No. This can't be happening. Me and Sean Reed? "Trust Partners" for the entire counselors-in-training program? Sean may have deep blue eyes that make my heart flutter whenever he looks at me, but he's always been a troublemaker. Being thrown together all summer? That is so not going to work. Even if he does have a really, really nice smile. Trust me on this.

Naturally, I don't want to attend the semiformal with a pity date, which is why I told my friends I have a boyfriend: this really cute drummer, Rafe. (I wish!) What's the big deal? Well, Rafe already has a girlfriend, plus now he thinks I have a boyfriend. So I have two imaginary boyfriends, and still no date for the dance. What was I even thinking? Would a guy like Rafe ever date a nobody like me?

How can Barkley, a sweet springer spaniel, belong to an arrogant guy like Jack, who laughs whenever one of our dogs at Perfect Paws has literally dragged me through the dirt? Plus he's dating Megan-the-Mega-Snob! I'm not sure why that gets to me—it's not like I like Jack, despite his surprising smile and the way he is with dogs. Sigh . How do I know so much about puppies and so little about love?

As the new, secret ( shhh!!! ) Dear Daisy, I must be an expert on romance, right? Wrong. Here I am living next door to Kyle, who is friendly, polite, and devastatingly cute in his board shorts—yet I act like a drama queen every time we talk. That's not me, really! How can I (as Daisy) give love advice to someone called "Romeo14" if I can't even get Kyle to ask me out? But I've got to keep trying. Because what if he's the one ?

I rested the ball on my hip and walked back toward the equipment shed. In the dark. Alone. With a boy. I would be completely freaking out over varsity soccer tryouts if it weren't for the new student, Graham, who's helping me practice. He has the most amazing green eyes, curly brown hair, and perfect legs. Plus, we have lots in common, since all we both care about is soccer! Well, that's all he cares about. But my heart beats so fast when we're on the field together . . . and I don't think it's just from all the running around.

I could no longer deny what the heat in my cheeks meant when I was around Flynn. I was falling for my sister's boyfriend. There's just something about Flynn. Yes, he's a tall, unbelievably gorgeous, dark-haired football player, but . . . he's also sweet and nice and super easy to talk to. It's lucky I'm the photographer for the school paper, because my camera likes Flynn almost as much as I do. Unfortunately for me, so does my sister, and there's no way I can nab Flynn with her in the picture. But could this be the real thing?