EDMCH4N

Her voice was glazed as she offered, “I can just spot you this month’s rent,”

Nixie waved her hand in dismissal that sent a small freezing breeze of wind towards her. “I’m not letting you do that. My dad can take care of it. It’s the least he could do.” She mumbled the last part.

Dead leaves swooshed past and in between both of their feet as a gust of wind attacked them. “Fuck! We should’ve just gone to Florida for school like you said.” Nixie cursed through gritted teeth as she embraced herself. Myar clutched onto her hot thermos tighter. 

In the distance, Luella waved as her angelic voice pierced through the cold. “Come on hurry up! I wanna go inside!” she called. Two dirty blonde braids dangled from underneath her white fuzzy beanie and her face was as bright and soft as ever. How she could wear a skirt in this weather was beyond Myar and Nixie who were both snuggled up in their gray sweatpants and stuck to their oversized hoodies. Myar had shoved a black cat-eared beanie over her dark hair and didn’t even think about makeup before leaving the apartment.

Finally inside the business building, they let themselves thaw before heading to their classes. They exchanged their goodbyes as Nixie ventured off to the art department while Luella and Myar compared their notes before taking their seats in their shared Principles of management class. Unfortunately, Myar was the only one with any notes to offer.

“Okay, what about this upcoming research draft? Have you gathered anything for that?” Myar asked while flicking a pencil between her fingers. Luella looked away and crossed her arms. 

“Come on, man. It’s due next Wednesday," A frustrated sigh left Myar’s mouth. Luella had gotten too comfortable mooching off of Myar the first week of class but as she continued into the second week, it was starting to become a problem. Now she was pulling both of their dead weight while Luella enjoyed campus life.

Not that Myar didn’t want to enjoy campus life as well, but there was work to do. She thought about confiding in Nixie, but knowing her, an altercation might break out. She didn’t wanna make things awkward between her friends over something as silly as Luella slacking off. 

“‘Kay fine. I’ll get started on it.” She promised just as the professor walked in to begin the lecture.

The professor cleared his throat and stood directly in front of the projector. “I want to let you guys know that the major semester project is now live online. It would do you some good to get a head start on it before mid terms approach. You know I love group assignments so I’ll allow you a partner if you don’t want to work alone.” Myar turned to Luella to see her scrolling away on her phone. She could feel animosity building in her chest but shoved it down. Whatever. It’s her grade not mine.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

“I really feel like you should come to the library with me, Lulu.” Myar tried her best to keep the annoyance out of her voice but it didn’t seem like Luella cared. She twirled a blonde braid around her finger while she scrolled away on her phone. “I don’t know Myar, I really wanna go shopping before my next class.”

Myar sighed, “What could you possibly need to go shopping for? Nix and I helped you get groceries over the weekend.” Luella rolled her eyes as she plugged her headphones into her phone. “Clothes, duh. But tomorrow let's definitely meet up at my place and work on that discussion.”

Myar didn’t bother to answer for fear of saying something catty so she shot a quick text to Nixie to meet her at the library when she got out of class. “‘Kay see you later bye,” Lulu called out hurriedly, not bothering to wait for a response as she skipped into the opposite direction. Myar sighed through her nose and the sound disappeared in a gust of wind. “Damn,” she shivered, clutching the now cold thermos from this morning. Nixie didn’t get out till at least another hour and a half, so that meant she had some time to throw together some resources for Luella to at least look at. Just the thought of it made part of Myar want to run and tattle to Nixie about how selfish Lulu had been since the semester started, but once again she decided to swallow the urge. She was a big girl and that meant addressing problems directly, even if she felt like she was being over dramatic.

She did her best to hurry into the library, but the wind seemed to slice through the layers of her clothes. The sky which had been a sunken 

gray all day long, had  finally gave in. Slowly, fat wet rain drops fell, blooming into cold damp spots on her hoodie. A downpour followed while she hurriedly yanked an umbrella from her back pack, wielding it. She broke into a clumsy jog, her wool boots slapping against the sidewalk until she reached the library.

Usually illuminated by natural light, the library was now dim and calm, the rain tapping a steady rhythm against the giant windows. Warm lights glowed between the bookshelves, and cozy lamps on the study desks created an atmosphere more welcoming than usual. Myar felt a whisper of motivation to finally get some work done.

She stuffed her umbrella in the communal caddy filled with a few others and made her way to the glass elevator. She preferred to study on the third floor since it was the least active. Despite being a library, a lot of students preferred to use the building as a hang out spot -Myar included- but since she was alone with nothing better to do and the third floor’s lack of computer labs deterred everyone, it was in her best interest to pull some of Lulu's weight- at least for now.

Tugging her laptop out of her backpack as well as some notebooks and pencils, Myar tried not to sigh as she already felt the boredom creeping up on her. She scrolled endlessly through the library’s database for sources and articles on their topic of discussion, writing down short synopsis for each one. 

After about an hour, Nixie finally texted back saying that she was on her way. Myar’s shoulders relaxed and she shut her laptop, deciding to give herself a little break and stretch her legs. The rain was still beating against the window and she hoped that Nixie brought an umbrella for herself. Unlike the first floor, these shelves carried only academic books. Heavy biographies and autobiographies and other genres sat shoulder to shoulder, their dense spines promising a tedious read. Boring big things that Myar would never go out of her way to pick up. As she wandered through the rows and rows of shelves she grazed over their titles and authors, wondering who the hell had the time to sit down and write a big boring book about calculus. How much did they get paid? How did they not kill themselves out of boredom?

She heard a shuffling noise a few rows down but thought nothing of it until she caught a familiar voice. Her eyes widened and she wasted no time turning back and walking to the desk where she left her stuff. Luckily, Nixie texted again begging Myar to meet her on the first floor to grab a coffee. Myar stuffed all of her things back into her bag as quietly as possible before shoving her beanie on and pulling her hoodie over her head. 

Once in the elevator, she clicked the door close button a little more than she should’ve before pressing her body into the corner. She might be over reacting and it might not even be who she thought it was but she wasn’t about to stick around and find out. As soon as she spotted Nixie she hooked her arm around hers- a habit that stuck with them from middle school until now. 

The cafe was an indoor sort of patio tucked in a corner on the first floor. Small tables had umbrellas that shaded cushioned chairs. The booths had once been made cozy with pillows, but after students kept stealing them, the school had finally given up on replacements. A girl with bright red hair worked the counter. She shoved her textbook aside as Nixie approached and Myar took a seat in a booth facing away from the elevator. 

After a few minutes, Nixie slid into the booth across from Myar, her drink in a plastic cup topped with whipped cream and pink sprinkles. Nix always had a thing for fun looking drinks that were all done up and as she took a sip, her shoulders lifted with giddiness. “Want a sip?”

Myar shook her head. “I can’t drink coffee right now. It would just make me anxious.” 

Nixie’s bunny ears swayed as she tilted her head. “Why? Did something happen?”  

Feeling warm, she slid her hood and beanie off and pressed her cheek to the table's cool polished wood. If she told Nixie that she thinks Dane is here, she’d just push her straight into his direction, leading her straight to the crash site, and that wasn't something she wanted to do today.  

“Nothing, just having some trouble with this principles of management class.” Lying didn’t come naturally, but she’d rather talk about that then some doomed crush that festered and ate her alive. She sat up straight and pulled her laptop out of her bag, her pride bruised by the childish behavior of hiding. She reached for her backpack and decided to get back to work.

“Really? But it’s only the second week,” Nixie’s eyes narrowed as she slid her sugar drink to the side and leaned in, “It’s Lulu isn’t it?”

Myar’s head snapped up, “What- How did you know about that?” Her friend took another long swig and put on a triumphant smile. “I already told you: I can smell bullshit from a mile away, and that girl is fake.”

“I don’t think she’s fake. I just think she could be a little more considerate, but it’s nothing I can’t nip in the bud. Plus, if you ever wanted to go to a party, she’s the one with connections,” Myar typed away on her laptop as she spoke, copying links and putting them in a document to send to Luella. A welcome distraction from her previous thoughts.

Nixie smirked, “Connections to what? Fraturaties? Trust me, I wouldn’t be caught dead at a frat party.”

“You say that now, but last year you begged me to find a halloween party.”

“Yeah, but that was before I had standards. The bar was in hell,” Nixie tipped her cup, found it empty, and slumped back against the booth. “Are you doing her work? You know she pulled that crap last semester when we took that drawing class. She was always texting me to meet up and asking me to ‘show her how to draw contour lines’. ” She shook her head, “Those are the easiest ones. It's literally stick figure drawing lines.”

“I’m not doing work for her, I’m just getting some sources for her to take a look at.” Myar said, closing out of the document a little too quickly. “Sure.” Nix said before her phone pinged. A mischievous grin played on her face as she typed away at her phone. “No way…My dad just sent me more than enough rent money!” She looked up with a twinkle in her eye, and grabbed her empty plastic cup. “I’m gonna get another one of these.”

“Actually, can you also get me a green tea,” Myar gave in and called after her to which Nixie threw a thumbs up. She reluctantly opened her laptop again and decided to stop working on sources and just email what she’d already gathered to Lulu. 

“I thought that was you, Vega,” 

At his voice, Myar's heart flutters and she looks up but holding his gaze is difficult. Instead she looks at Cedrick as she smiles in greeting. Nixie strolls up to the booth with both of their drinks in her hands. Her eyes widened at the scene in front of her, “Wassup, Dane.” She nods, but her expression is telling as she sits and slides the green tea over to Myar, That’s why you were anxious.

“Why didn’t you tell us you guys were here?” Cedrick drawled as his lean frame slid into the booth next to Nixie, his soft black hair falling slightly over his face. He tossed his head to shift his fringe out of his eyes; a boyish habit that almost made him look gentle, but the playful glint in his dark eyes always gave him away. “We’ve been killing time waiting for Sawyer.”  

“Move your fat ass,” she said, shoving him lightly in annoyance. His grin only widened. Cedrick’s mischievousness was ten times worse than Nixie’s. It was almost impossible to genuinely get under her skin, so the fact that he could- and did every time he was near her- added more fuel to his antics. 

As Dane slid into Myar’s booth, she moved in further to avoid a close proximity. His knee bumped hers anyway, to which she quickly jerked her leg away and pretended to busy herself with putting her laptop away. “Sorry,” He mumbled, but he didn’t sound particularly sorry at all. His voice was as mellow and warm as ever as he snickered at Cedrick stealing a sip of Nixie’s fresh drink. “You’re disgusting,” She sneered as she wiped the straw with her sleeve. 

“So, Vega,” Dane turned his attention to her, the same relaxed smile he’s had since freshman year playing on his lips. “I thought I saw you earlier but I guess I imagined it.” As he spoke, her gaze lingered on the contrast of his dyed deep blue locks that started on the mid strands of his cropped hair. Before she could come up with an answer Nixie spoke as she scrolled on her phone. “Yeah she was telling me how loud you guys were and that she could hardly get any work done.” 

Dane scoffed, his hazel eyes widening as he pretended to be offended. Myar remembered seeing his hair colored for the first time last semester and how it knocked the wind out of her. His hair was naturally dark brown but Sawyer helped him dye most of it and left his natural hair color as ghost roots. 

Myar giggled at Nixie’s save before taking a swig from her own drink.

“We were having a debate,” he defended. Myar let her cheek rest in her palm. “Well it sounded like two senior citizens fighting over opioids.” Dane shouldered her lightly, his smile now playful. She could see the definition of his shoulders under his plain black tee and smell the clean fragrance of whatever detergent he used mixed his natural scent. Just him sitting next to her made her insides turn to honey and made her face feel hot. Quickly she turned away from him and slid her back pack straps over her shoulders. Each time she caught herself staring at him, it made her feel like a perv and she needed to get out here. 

“Well, I’m gonna head home. Do you wanna come with me, Nix?” She asked. An expression she couldn't read flashed across Dane’s face before he stood up to let her out. Since that awful night, they had obviously grown apart and when he did something that she no longer recognized, it freaked her out. It reminded her that the blueprint she had of him was outdated.

Myar shoved the thoughts away quickly as slid out of the booth. “Yeah, I gotta do laundry,” Nixie replied as she snatched up her drink. Cedrick moved in closer to her, “You don’t wanna stay and hang out with us?” Her nose scrunched as she shoved him out of her way.

“Okay, well we’ll see you later then?” Dane asked looking up at Nixie since Myar was pretending to check her phone. “Hmm… Maybe,” Nixie answered for the both of them before turning to walk away. 

As they walked towards the exit, Myar slid her beanie and hoodie back on, noticing the rain still beating against the library windows. “Did you bring your umbrella?” She asked Nixie while raising an eyebrow. To her disappointment, Nixie rolled her eyes, “no, I completely forgot. I had to share an umbrella with a random kid on my way over here.” Still, she giggled, “I kinda figured as much. Don’t worry, I brought mine.”

The library doors opened and closed as students bustled in and out, sending small gushes of chilling wind in their direction. The caddy where the umbrellas were waiting was almost full, a colorful array of handles and plastic resting haphazardly. Myar searched for her clear blue one, her brows furrowing in realization that it wasn't there. ‘Oh come on,’ she thought in frustration. Nixie stood closer beside her. “What? Can’t find it?” Her raspy voice asked as she joined Myar digging through the handles. “It literally has my name on the handle. No way someone took it.” She complained, still digging.

Giving up, she stopped her search and looked out the windows to see if someone was maybe walking with it but nothing caught her eye. Nixie was still thumbing through the caddy, every now and then she pushed her knit rabbit ears out of her way. After a few more seconds, she also gave up. “Girl you just got robbed.” She declared and Myar grimaced. 

Before Myar was about to suggest waiting out the rain, she recognized Sawyer’s bleach blond hair. Even under the gray atmosphere, his tan skin held a summer warmth. His umbrella rustled as he closed it, approaching the caddy and his eyes met Myar's. With a friendly smile he greeted them, his voice was always a gentle contrast to his appearance. Sawyer looked like a playboy, his smile was charming and his posture was easy, but the truth was that he was the furthest thing from a player. Even though they were nice to look at, girls had always kind of scared him. 

“Hey guys,” he greeted, and Nixie roughly nudged his shoulder. “Myar just got freaking robbed.” 

“R-robbed?” He repeated, eyebrows rising slightly. Nixie explained, her rabbit ears swinging while she waved her hands, obviously over exaggerating. Myar watched her actively freak Sawer out and held back a giggle.

With a snatch, Cedrick stole her rabbit beaning and put it on his own head. While they bickered, Sawyer turned to Myar with his hand  outstretched, offering his own umbrella. “You can take mine. I can just  buy a new one later.” 

She gently shook her head. “No, don't worry. It’s  not that serious.” Dane snatched the beanie back and threw it haphazardly on Nixie’s head. “You  need me to walk you ladies to your car or what?”

“No one needs that,” Nixie said while plucking Sawyer’s umbrella from his hand. “We’re leaving for real this time.” She said, her hat still  lopsided on top of her head. With one last look, Myar turned back to wave goodbye and saw Soph scrolling on his phone, standing next to Dane. Her stomach dropped slightly. How long has he been there?

Prologue

A kaleidoscope of colorful light splashed Myar's face as she stumbled from the guest bedroom. She squinted her eyes and turned to look at the boy sitting on the rumpled bed sheets, pulling his converse on, dark brown hair charmingly disheveled. His cologne stuck to her and she inhaled the crisp clean scent subconsciously. A blush warmed her cheeks as she tugged her silver sequined skirt to a more modest length, a useless gesture against the night’s evidence.

Noticing her gaze, Dane smiled at her mischievously, an infectious grin that also tugged at her own lips. Leaving the sheets in disarray, he joined her at the door, and she felt herself melt slightly in his shadow, a good half foot taller than her. “I’m gonna go on a beer run with Cedrick,” he said, his voice a mellow rich hum that shook the space between them. He let his hands find her waist. Myar nodded, dizzy with the giddiness of party sex and a few drinks. Still, she paid extra close attention to the way his downturned hazel eyes, warm and heavy lidded, watched her lips. Leaning forward,she gave into impulse, lips locking into another make out. 

The walls vibrated with music against her back as their bodies pressed together in another dizzy blur. A few months back, this would’ve been unbelievable and embarrassing. They had been best friends, always in their own world with rules that no one else understood. All their secrets shared in Dane’s beat up Honda, windows fogged from the smoke of a shared pipe. If Myar had been a book, he knew her by heart; the grammar of her gestures and sighs, often knowing her truth before she could name it. And she, in turn, could map the architecture of his ambitions, aware of the guy he wanted to be. It was in between the lyrics they’d draft together when they got too bored.

The physical shift between them happened on a humid summer evening. She'd invited a few people over, but of course, it was only Dane who showed. Dane, who now sat beside her, frustration rolling off him because he’d forgotten his bud. 

"This is a tragedy," he’d groaned, falling back onto her duvet with a dramatic flourish that made her smile. Her eyes had accidentally caught the way his shirt had ridden up, revealing his skin and the hint of a happy trail. In the stagnant air, she could smell the clean scent of his soap mixed with the day’s heat, a scent so uniquely Dane it was an atmosphere all on its own. Normally, it gave her a  headache, but in that moment it was pulling out a curiosity that she kept far back in her mind. Quickly, she turned her head away from him, picking up her phone as a distraction but she could feel his eyes watching.

“What are we supposed to do now?” she asked, trying to shove the image of his stomach away. “I don’t know,” he responded quietly, but his voice sounded different. She felt a small tug at her hand that rested on the bed. “What?” She asked, snapping her head towards him.

“Lay with me,” He’d said. At that, she stifled a laugh. “Lay with you?” She repeated aloud, thinking he’d hear how silly he sounded, but he just stared up at her from the bed. After a moment, her smile faded, her eyes searching his. He didn’t look away as he gently grabbed her forearm, pulling her towards him.

Both of them stayed on their backs, staring at the ceiling fan slowly spinning and listening to the faint noise of her parents watching TV in the living room. His hand was still warmly branded her arm. After a moment, it slid down, a whisper of contact, until his fingers intertwined with hers, his grip firm and obvious. Myar turned to look at him, her cheek rustling against the duvet. A questionable yet amused expression decorated her face. Nonetheless, she curled her fingers around his reluctantly. 

The sheets gently rustled as he shifted to his side, his body curving toward hers. The mattress dipped slightly, drawing them closer. She stared up, waiting for the joke, or the explanation, or for Dane to burst out laughing, saying something like ‘you should see your face!’ But he remained silent, his eyes watching her face, looking for something before he leaned in, about to close the space between them.

“What are you doing?” Her question interrupted his movement.

A grin, quick and crooked, tugged at his lips before he glanced away, suddenly fascinated by a fold in the duvet. “What?” he began, his tone a forced casualness that didn’t reach his nervous eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about this.” The words were smooth, practiced, but she could hear the faint tremor beneath them, the vulnerability he was trying to mask, but both of them knew he couldn’t fool her.

“About what?” she pressed, her own voice gaining a little strength. Myar held her ground, refusing to let him off the hook with veiled suggestions.

His grin vanished and his gaze slid, no longer on the sheets, but to the hollow of her throat. He focused on the small silver heart resting there, watching it rise and fall with her quickened breath. “You know what,” he murmured, the words soft, almost pleading for her to stop asking embarrassing questions. He looked ashamed, unable to meet her eyes, desperate not to have to spell it out any further and risk the humiliation of being the only one with pervy thoughts.

She did know. The unspoken ‘what’ hung in the air between them, charged and terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Myar had always been under the impression that it was normal to occasionally wonder about a male friend. It was a fleeting curiosity and a biological glitch, something to be acknowledged and swiftly forgotten. But now that it was confronting her head on, she had nowhere to hide.

“I guess I have…” She answered quietly. It was the only secret that she kept from him, and now it was out.

A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face, the embarrassment she’d seen moments before now completely vanquished by his familiar, teasing confidence. “You guess?” he echoed, his voice a low, playful rumble. His thumb, which was still intertwined with her fingers, began to stroke a slow, deliberate circle on the back of her hand. “See? And you tried to act all innocent. ‘About what?’” he teased, mimicking her earlier protest in a light, gentle tone that held no malice.

She felt a flush of heat spread up her neck, but a reluctant smile touched her own lips. “Shut up.”  He’d caught her, and he knew it. 

A serious look washed over his features. "Myar," he whispered.

Cupping her cheek with his other hand, his thumb stroked her skin with a reverence that made her shiver despite the humid air. All the mischievousness was gone from his voice, replaced by a low, gravelly seriousness. "You can tell me to stop," he breathed the words out, leaning in, his forehead coming to rest against hers. He was giving her a choice, even though she could feel desperation radiating from him. The way his thumb drew circles on her hand as he closed his fingers even tighter than before, and the way his lips ghosted the corner of her mouth. If she didn’t know him the way she did, she’d think he was in love with her.

Her eyes darkened and she tilted her head to meet his lips. Quickly, they latched onto each other, his hands gripping her waist clumsily and her hands grabbing onto his biceps, unsure. A low groan escaped him as his brown hair brushed against her forehead. His hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, splaying against the small of her back, pressing her closer until she could feel the frantic beat of his heart against her own. Her fingers, clumsy with urgency, fumbled with the button of his jeans, a silent answer to the question his touch had asked.

Since that afternoon, it was impossible to stop. The best part of it all was that they still talked and joked the same as before. In fact, their strange bond deepened, becoming more resilient. The trust built over years now had a physical language. They could fall into bed and within the day, still argue over whose turn it was to copy off the others homework. Eventually, their friends found out, but it never became a thing. There was no label, no "couple" status to live up to. They still flirted with other people and discussed the fleeting crushes they had. No jealousy, no animosity, just a silent understanding that whatever this was, it belonged only to them.

Yet for all its ease, the only time Myar noticed cracks was when she drank. She’d never let it spill out, chalking it up to her intoxicated mind taking over intrusively; bringing out feelings that were too serious for her to explore. Feelings that she didn’t think she was really feeling  until liquid courage hit her lips.

“Do you like me,” she mumbled, the words slurring against his lips, more a thought that had escaped than a question asked. Dane pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss. “What?” He asked, equally as breathless as she was. He stared down at her, his eyes searching hers, half amused and half unsettled. She could feel the bass of the music in her stomach along with drunken euphoric butterflies.

“Do you like me?” She asked again but the words sounded smaller. His hands still rested on her hips but his fingers tightened on her skin, as if trying to steady himself. Then his gaze slid sideways, toward Cedrick, who dangled car keys with a lazy grin. She hadn't even realized he’d been standing there.

 “You ready?” He asked Dane.

He blinked, seeming to come out of deep private calculation, and when she tried to lean in for another kiss, he let go of her and took a step back. The butterflies dropped heavy and lifeless with humiliation. “Dane-” In a desperate attempt, she squeezed his bicep, her last resort to pull the conversation back from the edge of a cliff.

He laughed, light but sharp, already stepping towards Cedrick. “Maybe we gotta cut you off the drinks tonight, Vega.” Her last name, usually a term of endearment, felt like a sword, reducing her vulnerability to a mere drunken mishap while simultaneously trying to remind her that they’re best friends. Not some dumb couple. The humiliation was hot on her face, flooding her cheeks. Under the weight of it, her hands fell from his arms, her entire body going slack with the effort of not coming undone in front of them.

‘Let's go.” He said to Cedrick, already pivoting away. He took the stairs two at a time, a clean escape, while she remained rooted to the spot, publicly dismantled.

Myar watched as both of them walked away and after a while, a sudden fury overcame her. She snatched her clutch purse up from the floor where it had fallen haphazardly and straightened her posture, quickly making her own way down the stairs as well.

 She found Nixie in the kitchen, a mad scientist, skinny as a fairy and severed baby bangs, concocting potions from every bottle within reach, pouring the mixtures into fancy wine glasses scavenged from the cabinets. “Hey,” Nixie’s raspy voice cut through the noise, a devilish smile on her lips as her black eyes twinkled like glass. She held up a wine glass where an electric pink liquid fizzed and sparkled. “Wanna try this?”

Wordlessly, Myar grabbed three jello shots from the line-up on the counter, knocking them back one after another. Then, she took the glass from Nixie, her eyes hard. “This looks expensive,” Myar said, her voice strangely steady before she took a long, determined swallow.

The silver bangles on Nixie’s thin wrists jingled as she clapped and squealed, watching Myar finish the beverage in one determined go. This was the version of Myar she preferred, reckless and impulsive, finally matching Nixie’s own frequency. She pushed her short black hair behind her ears, the baby bangs highlighting the delighted gleam in her dark eyes, before lining up two regular shots on the counter. “Take this with me!” she rasped.

They bent over the counter, hands behind their backs in a shared, practiced posture and downed the shots in sync.

She pulled Myar into a dramatic hug, feeling the tension in her friend’s shoulders and mistaking it for excitement. She let her slip into the crowd, never suspecting the hurt festering beneath the surface. Nixie, the high priestess of good times, simply thought Myar had finally decided to shrug off her mysterious act. Her work here was done. Her eyes left Myar, quickly snagged by a group of girls asking for that pretty pink drink.

As she wove through the crowd of dancing bodies and other people making out, she felt the dizziness wash over her. The loud music and bass vibrated in her ribs and sweat slicked bodies pushed up against her, making her skin crawl. Instead of the liquid confidence alcohol usually brought her, she was served with a wave of melancholy and anxiety that made her throat tighten. A boy with a bleached buzz cut and damp shirt appeared in front of her with a glazed over smile. “Come dance with me,” he’d said, already reaching for her hand. Myar grimaced, staring at him. His face was a blur. He’s not Dane. She thought, reopening the wound as she shoved past the boy in front of her.

She struggled to pull her eyes away from a girl with a blue pixie cut locked against the lips of a guy with long shaggy hair. The sight deepened her current misery. Why had she done that? The question bounced around in her head going in circles. She had gone against what her and Dane’s friendship was for. There had never been any rules, not out loud, but the agreement between her and Dane was clear: their friendship was too important to be ruined by silly romantic feelings. What they shared was different, a secret understanding that was supposed to make them inseparable.

Like a carousel, the room began to spin, her vision tilted and her stride collapsed into a very unsteady stumble. The living room seemed to stretch as she continued to shoulder past people. The front door creaked when she tugged it open, only for her to smack clumsily into the screen door. “Fuck me,” she muttered. As she fumbled for the latch, her fingers felt numb and stupid, before finally shoving through it.

The night air felt cool against her skin, but it didn't calm her nerves. It only made her aware of how much she had been shaking. Defeated, she sank onto the front porch steps, her body slumping against the stairway’s narrow spindles, letting her muscles relax. She felt her mouth fill with saliva and a bitter rush of vomit rose in her throat. She barely made it to the bushes before her body heaved, leaving them trembling as she threw up into their leaves. The violence of it left her wavering and weak, tears of pure humiliation and physical misery streaking her heated cheeks. The vibrant pink of Nixie’s concoction looked pathetic and ugly staining the dark earth.

Her eyes stung with mascara and tears. She blinked before glancing around, realizing she was the only person outside. A high pitched wail left her mouth as she let herself cry, glitter and mascara entering her eyes but she didn’t care anymore. Myar pulled the upper half of her body out from the bushes and brought her knees to her chest. She cried and cried like a whinny little kid until she couldn’t any more.

She wasn't even sure  if she liked Dane like that, but if that were the case, then why had his reaction cut her open so viciously? She cursed herself for asking, because nothing good ever came from questions she already knew were stupid. It was fun up until now. The kissing and the sex and the hugs when it was just them made her think that nothing could come between them because at the end of the day, they were best friends. It shook her up; Dane had never looked at her that way before. Like she was weird.

Now she sat in the cold, damp grass beside the porch, arms wrapped around herself. A deep, chilling terror settled in her bones; the terrifying suspicion that she had tipped them past the point of fun into something irrevocable. The ease between them, once as natural as breathing, now felt like delicate glass  she had accidentally bumped into and shattered.

─ ⊹ ⊱꒰☆꒱⊰ ⊹ ─

Cedrick’s house felt like it was about to burst at the seams as it became increasingly difficult to weave through people. Every step was blocked by an idiot spilling their drink or laughing way too loudly. The bass rattled the walls and window panes, Sawyer’s newest album damn near splitting the floor in two. At most parties, he was usually in charge of the music since his older brother was a DJ and he had given him access to his equipment. Everyone at their high school and even Dane’s high school loved Sawyer’s beats, including his best friend, Soph. But tonight, the overload of noise scraped at his nerves.

After watching his girlfriend, Nala, slide her hand down another guy's pants in a hall closet, everything felt weird. He’d seen the same motion countless times before, but it was usually aimed at him. The way everyone’s shouts and laughter blended into one loud sound. A body bumped into his shoulder hard and another pressed against his back. The crowded hallway was beginning to feel overwhelming; which he thought was strange because he never got overwhelmed. It was second nature for him to stay calm and levelheaded while dissolving conflicts with his wit. 

Nala didn’t know that he saw. The party was a dark, pulsing thing, too chaotic for anyone to notice him standing there silently, witnessing his girlfriend's infidelity. He went through the cliches he was probably supposed to do at that moment. Cliches like swinging the door open and pulling her off of him, turning the situation into a public affair. Or the cliche of yanking the random guy off the closet floor and beating him up, enacting the revenge he was supposedly owed, but he didn't. He didn’t feel pulled to do any of that, and for the first time in a while, he felt something close to panic. Not because of heartbreak, but because of the absence of it.

The sliver of blue light cutting through the doorway was enough for him to see the angle of her jaw kissing against the stranger's neck and her slender fingers gliding across his chest and nearing the hem of his jeans. It should’ve torn him apart, or at least lit some kind of fuse- something hot, messy, or explosive. Instead, a small hint of disappointment could be felt if he dug deep enough. A small feeling similar to the disappointment of a waitress getting your order wrong.

He lingered long enough to know he wasn't going to say anything to either of them and realized whatever part of him that was supposed to care, genuinely wasn't there.

Shortly after that, Soph shoved through the crush of bodies, the heat of sweat and perfume stuck to him as he cut toward Sawyer. After stepping over a few blacked out party goers, he spotted a folding table sagged under the weight of his friend’s brother’s DJ setup, plastic cups and half-drained beer bottles cluttered in among cables and glowing equipment. Two massive speakers boxed the table in, pulsing with every beat. Sawyer’s bleached hair, ghosted by dark roots, flew with each jump, his head snapping in time with the song as if the music was wired directly through him.

“Sawyer!” He called out to his friend but he was too distracted. After a few more attempts, he finally got his attention. 

“Sawyer, I’m gonna head out,” Soph yelled over the crash of music. Sawyer frowned, twisting a few dials before making his way closer to his friend. He swiped his neck length hair out of his face, “What do you mean? It’s only midnight.” He tried to reason but Soph shook his head. “Nah, my mom’s blowing up my phone. She wants me back home,” He lied.

Sawyer gave him a look but it was so brief Soph almost missed. “Alright,” Sawyer sighed, giving in as he snagged a pair of headphones from the table and slid them over his ears. “I’ll see you at school then.” Their waves passed between, Sawyer’s distracted and Soph’s lazy as he cut through the kitchen, angling for the front door. The space around him narrowed and he glanced sideways long enough to see a short-haired girl emptying liquor into the open mouths of three guys lined up, cheering, choking, and already spilling. 

When he was finally outside, his nerves eased up a bit. He suddenly felt silly, now recognizing that all he needed was the night air and a quieter area to ground himself. He still wanted to go home though. Tomorrow, he could break things off with Nala like he was supposed to, but right now, he ran on his own time. While fishing his car keys from his pocket, he nearly tripped over someone crouched beside the porch steps. She was folded into herself, her sequined skirt flashing faintly against the warm porch light and the straps of her black lace tank top hanging loosely from her shoulders.

Assuming she was just another party casualty who couldn’t handle her liquor, Soph was about to keep walking but when she heard the porch groan under his shoes, her head lifted and he paused. Long black strands clung to her flushed cheek, eyeliner and glitter smeared around her dark eyes. He descended the final creaky step, his own breath catching as he bent slightly, expecting to find the dazed, vacant stare of intoxication. A look that usually prompted a feeling of detached pity. Instead, her eyes found his, glassy but sharp in a way that brought his feelings of unease back. She didn’t look lost, instead she looked like she saw everything and was angry about it. She reminded him less of the common see-through ghosts draped in sheets, and more of the ones that waited in corners, hair veiling their faces, and altering the energy of the room they occupied. Bad energy. Soph thought but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her glare.

Unexpectedly, she rose with a stumble, her florid features scowling even more. Soph flushed when he remembered that staring was rude. He quickly dropped his gaze to the grass and continued walking,  hoping she’d believe he’d never been watching.

“What?” The word was dry and harsh, scraped from a raw throat. He pretended not to hear and continued to his car.

“Stupid boy.” She muttered, voice laced with a hatred that made her eyes pinch at the corners. He knew he shouldn’t but he looked back at her again.

Something in him registered that he’d seen her face before. Tucked in the background of Dane’s Instagram, a handful of half-blurred photos where her handle always showed up: @dreamy_ar.

It's Myar. He realized. They had never spoken to each other before. Hell, he’d never seen her in person till now. She was a frequent feature in Dane’s new world; a world that started when they’d ended up at different high schools. His own history with Dane stretched back to middle school, but those bonds had frayed. Cedrick was the only thread still holding them together.

Without thinking, he gave her a half assed smile before continuing down the steps. 

“I know you,” her voice called out and he watched her take a step toward him. Her feet were bare, shoes most likely being trampled on in the ongoing party.  “You’re Dane’s friend,” She said it like an accusation of an awful crime. Now even more confused, Soph stopped and turned to face her.

“What are you on about?” he asked, now slightly annoyed. 

Myar's bare feet pressed on the lush grass as she stepped closer. With a jerk, she pulled the straps of her tank top back over her shoulders, desperately trying to hang onto her dignity. “Look at you,” she spat, her words slurring into one another. “Actin’ all confused. Acting like you don’t do what he really thinks.”

She took another wobbling step forward, and her ankle buckled. For a quick second, she pitched sideways before catching herself clumsily, arms flailing before she found her balance again. The movement was graceless.

He scoffed, a sharp, dismissive sound. “I think you’re fucking drunk.” A smirk of disbelief tugged at his mouth. This was Dane’s mess, not his. Without another thought, he turned his back on the chaos of the party and the disheveled girl. He clutched his keys, pressing the teeth of them into his palm as he strode toward his car, just wanting to hurry up and get home and lay in his bed.

He’d almost made it to the sidewalk before he felt a strong tug on the back of his shirt, the fabric stretching around his neck. He spun around, eyes wide with anger and surprise.  “What are you-”

Myar stood her ground, her chest heaving as she jammed her finger into his chest.

“Fuck you, you don’t know anything. I’m not drunk! You're careless and act all cool with Dane and Cedrink and Sawyer,” She swiped away at the tears freshly leaving her eyes, “but all of you are stupid selfish guys! I bet you all laugh at me! I bet you fucking high-five each other!”

Soph stumbled back with each sharp dig of her finger until they were in the street. He cursed Dane for leaving his mess out on the front lawn.

He didn't mean to shove her, the force of it even surprised him. But when he planted both hands on her shoulders to make some space, she fell back hard onto the curb. The air left her lungs in a sudden whoosh, her hair flying around her face. For a long second, he stood in shock, staring at her body on the ground. Beads of blood slowly appeared on the side of her scraped legs.

A throb of regret shot through him as a hand covered his mouth. “I’m so sorry-” As he was about to help her up, his shadow fell across her. Myar's dark and angry eyes peeked through strands of her hair. In one swift move, she uncoiled from the grass, lunging towards him, and her fist striking his left eye like a snake. Soph tumbled back onto the jagged asphalt, hands flying towards his face. Blinding agony shot through his head. Myar stood up before tripping and falling onto his torso, knocking the wind from his lungs. She steadied herself on top of his body before her fists came down in a wild and irregular rhythm, frantically pounding any patch of skin she could find; his arms, his shoulders, his chest. 

“What the fuck!” he shrieked. “All you stupid guys do is sit there and laugh. You can’t take anything seriously!" Her voice cracked as she continued to beat him.

Soph tried to shove her off as gently as possible to avoid hurting her any more than he already had. Myar fell off him with a yelp as her knees scraped the concrete again. He tried to get up as quickly as possible, one hand over his wounded, throbbing eye, and simultaneously tripping on his own feet. She jumped onto his back, one arm locked around his neck, squeezing as her free hand scratched his left cheek deeply. Both of them fell again, only this time, car headlights bloomed over both of their thrashing bodies. 

“You’re fucking crazy!” He yelled as his hands searched behind him, looking for a way to peel her off.

The slam of a car door echoed before quick footsteps headed towards both of them. Myar screeched as hands wrapped around her waist, attempting to pull her off. “Myar, what are you doing?” Dane’s voice was alert and it surprised her enough to loosen her hold on Soph’s body. With a tug, Dane managed to pry her off. She thrashed and watched with hatred and humiliation as Cedrick helped Soph off the ground. 

Soph’s hand covered the left side of his face, but in the orange wash of Cedrick’s headlights, anyone could see the drops of blood trickling down his chin. As Dane held Myar with both arms locked around her waist, she could feel the familiar frantic thud of his heart against her back mixed with her own. Myar pushed off of him in one dazed motion and stumbled onto her own feet before his hands snapped up to her shoulders, spinning her to face him. His expression was filled with worry and shock as his eyes raked over her.

A volley of questions, tight and frantic. “Are you hurt? What did he do?” Dane’s voice was both angry and nervous, but Myar’s focus was on the blood welling between Soph’s fingers. When she turned her gaze to the boy in front of her, she scrunched her nose. He left as soon as she asked a simple question. Dumb? Yes. But it was still simple, and now he’s acting worried? 

The music seemed lower and the house seemed to shake less. When Myar looked over Dane’s shoulder, the party had bled onto the lawn. A ring of blurred, intoxicated faces watched them like a spectator sport. Some chanted for Soph to get back up, while a cluster of girls, swaying on their feet, raised their red cups and slurred, “Yeah, fuck him up sum’ore!” But their voices were distant, muffled by the stark, silent panic in Dane’s eyes. 

“You don’t care,” She mumbled, watching his expression falter, before spinning on her heel to walk away, but Dane snatched her wrist, stopping her from going anywhere.

Nixie shoved and pushed through people as she descended the porch steps, calling for Myar. Dane straightened and dragged Myar over to Nixie.

“Hey, you gotta take her home.” he spoke with urgency and quickly, Nixie took Myar into her arms, trying to ask what had happened but all Dane could say was “I’ll tell you later.”

As they moved toward Nixie’s car, Nixie fussed over Myar’s appearance, running a cool hand over her face. But Myar was already looking back over her shoulder at Dane and Soph.

“What the fuck did you do?” she heard Dane ask as he shoved Soph. Quickly, Soph shoved him right back, “Me? I didn’t do a damn thing! This is on you- You’re the one who left her all crazy letting her attack anyone who walks by!”

The front door flew open, hitting the people standing in front of it, and a girl with long light brown hair and bangles up to her elbows came storming out. "Where's the bitch fighting my man?" she yelled, scanning the lawn with wild eyes.