We stroll across campus, still arm-in-arm, not verbalizing what we’re both thinking. I wish things could be simpler between us, but they haven’t been in a long time. It’s only more visible now that there’s a gaping hole in our lives.

  “How’d you sleep last night, Blaze?” Milton asks as we step against the wind.

  “Sleep? What’s that? I had a ton of homework. If I don’t pick things up now, I’ll be too far behind to catch up.”

  “Those are words I never thought I’d hear you say. You were doing so well.”

  “My life has been different, and I’ve let it affect my studies. I’m re-collecting myself though, don’t worry. I’ll still be able to code your website when you’re on top of the world,” my arm drapes around his lower back for the first time. This is comfortable—conversation that isn’t being forced or about anyone else.

  I genuinely want to have a good time tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything for myself. Though I have an ulterior motive, I won’t let it overwhelm me or overshadow the night.

  “I have faith in you. You always accomplish anything you set your mind to—a quality I’d like to think you got from me,” Milton laughs at his joke. His posture changes as he grasps the expansive weight of my silence.

  I add the sound effect of clearing my throat to sell it.

  “Awe, come on,” he complains.

  I let out a soft, joyful chuckle before I regain control.

  Max is waiting in a parking lot next to Wilson Hall. He has the car started and his daddy’s black F-150 is purring like a cat. We both get into the back seat since there’s already someone in the front. I don’t recognize them from behind, but their smell repulses me.

  “Gino?” I chance.

  The figure turns to answer his name. He greets me with a nod but faces the front immediately after. He doesn’t dwell on it, wanting to get the ride over with.

  I grab Milton’s closed hand and give him a look. His nostrils flare with anger, and his left eye twitches like he wants to grab Gino’s seatbelt and choke him with it. Milton doesn’t know much about the relationship, but he doesn’t need to, to have justifiable animosity.

  “Guys, this is my buddy Gino. Not sure if y’all met through… mutual friends,” Max introduces, pulling off to head to his girlfriend’s event.

  We don’t speak for the rest of the ride there. But it’s less uncomfortable with Max blasting his radio and singing along to an entire Nickelback album.

  Twelve songs later, Max is parking the car and we’re escaping the confinement of his daddy’s truck.

  The way my body reacts to the fresh air makes me think I was holding my breath the entire car ride. I speed around the truck’s bed to Milton and drag him inside. “I’m proud of you,” I say under my breath.

  “Why? I’m not threatened by him…”

  I can tell by how Milton trails off that he’s fixing to say ‘not anymore’, but he leaves it as is. Though it isn’t much progress, I accept his answer and enter the party.

  It hasn’t started yet; we must be early. Mika is busy hanging streamers and positioning balloons. Aubrey is putting tablecloths on the gift table and arguing with her sisters about what goes where.

  Max rushes inside to help, approaching Aubrey first to see where she wants him. He points Gino in Mika’s direction to assist.

  “Are we supposed to be helping?” I lean over and whisper to Milton.

  He shrugs but doesn’t take his eyes off Gino.

  “Why don’t I ask Aubrey if there’s anything we can do?” Milton says, tracking over to the birthday girl. Meanwhile, I hug Mika and speak to her despite who she has in her company.

  “Dude, I’m glad you could make it,” she pulls away and hands me clear tape and pink streamers.

  “Me too…”

  I notice during our exchange that Gino doesn’t take his eyes off us. He’s shaking in his boots at the thought of being around me after what happened between me, him, and Sarah.

  “You guys know each other?” I ask.

  “Yeah, do you know him? Max introduced us a while back.”

  “A while back? How long has Max known him?” Events and people who have no business together are intersecting in my mind, and I can’t keep track of anything anymore.

  Mika gets distracted when one balloon she recently taped to the wall pops. She swears and storms off to replace it with a new one.

  I return Gino’s glare and hope that his being here won’t ruin my night.

  thirty-six

  Sarah—10 Days Before

  Milton arrives at the library after all the excitement has died down. The only reason I haven’t brushed off this incident and forgotten about it is because Gino sends threatening texts every five minutes. Every time my phone chimes to alert me of a pixelated warning, Cleo and Milton stare with inquisitive gazes. How is this the most consistent thing Gino has done in our entire relationship?

  “Are you okay, Sarah? He’s lucky I—”

  “Mellow, I wouldn’t have wanted you involved. I’m glad you weren’t here.”

  I smile up at both of my fierce protectors even though I wish they’d mind their business. Neither of them can protect me better than I can. I know Gino better than they do. I don’t need to threaten him or be physical. My silence kills him.

  Milton doesn’t let up, “How’d he even know to find you here?”

  I shrug, wanting to move on from this whole mess, “Well, I’m glad that in my absence, Blaze stepped up. You can’t go anywhere alone with this creeper stalking you around campus.”

  “He’s right. You were with Max when he attacked you last night.”

  My breathing catches when Cleo mentions I was with Max last night. I watch Milton to regard his reaction. He closes his eyes in disappointment, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to hash anything out in front of Cleo.

  “Yes, when Max walked me home,” I say to clarify.

  “I saw you and the girls at practice last night. I could’ve escorted you back. We live in the same building.” Milton says, offering a day too late.

  I don’t even know where he was last night. After practice, it seemed he was gone with the wind. “That’s okay. Max and I had a few things to smooth over anyhow… we had a friendly talk.”

  I smile, thinking of repairing so many fractured relationships in such a short amount of time, but quickly must stop myself when a dark thought creeps into my mind. I wouldn’t have to rectify all these strains if I hadn’t caused them. That somehow, I’m the problem in each of these situations. The only common denominator. With a quick shake of my head, my attention is back on Cleo and Milton.

  “Still, I wish I’d seen Blaze go all badass, no cap,” Milton slices the air with his hands like the action heroes in comic books, one of his obsessions. Despite Cleo being a bit doom-and-gloom today, she laughs so loud, another student must shush her.

  “After today, the library will ban us from studying here,” I sigh, leaning back in my seat and propping my pen behind my ear. I won’t get any work done today. All this stimulation is too much for me to focus.

  My eyes wander to my phone. The screen is still beaming with new messages.

  Curiosity wins, and I make eye contact with the camera on the top of my phone for facial recognition to unlock the screen. It reveals the messages to me:

  Okay. I want to be better for you. You’re the one for me, baby.

  Are you seriously going to keep ignoring me?

  You won’t always be around your friends!

  Sarah, you’re the worst person I’ve ever met!

  Be careful next time you’re alone, bitch! Nobody quits Gino.

  The texts go on and on, but I don’t read the rest. There’s this feeling in my gut I can’t quite explain, and if he isn’t sober, I trust he’ll live up to his brainless ramblings. As much as their presence provides a certain comfort or shield, I don’t want my friends involved next time.

  “It won’t be the first time. Remember when we were in the eighth grade, and we got kicked out because Shiv stood on the desk to sing the national anthem?” Milton’s incorrect recollection grabs my attention.

  “That wasn’t me, that was you!” I point back at Milton. I can’t believe he tried to blame one of the most awful things he’s ever done in public on me. If anyone else were listening to this story, they’d believe him.

  I nudge Cleo’s shoulder after a hushed giggle.

  We’re not amusing her.

  “Do you remember?”

  “No,” Cleo keeps her head low, “I wasn’t there. I must’ve been at camp.”

  Milton and I stop laughing. They sent her away at the end of eighth grade, with only two more weeks left of school. I should’ve known because I was the one responsible for getting her schoolwork for her parents.

  “Oh…” Milton tries to act normal, as if the dynamic of the joke hasn’t changed, “right, we remember.” He flashes a dangerous look my way and kicks my leg under the table.

  “Of course,” I shift in my seat.

  thirty-seven

  Cleo—Present

  Someone flicks the volume button and fills the room with the thumping bass of the music, and the floor vibrates beneath everyone’s feet. I worry about the balloons and how long they’ll last under all this pressure.

  The birthday girl glides over to my table, her dress billowing in the air behind her.

  The glitter on her eyelids mesmerizes me, along with everyone else here. Her dress is like something straight from New York’s Fashion Week—high-end, but not everyone’s first choice.

  “Aubrey,” I force a pitch of excitement before Aubrey covers her ears and falls back. I couldn’t have been louder than the R&B playlist. I stop talking for her to pull me in for a hug.

  “I’m glad you made it, Cleo. Get ready to have the time of your life,” Aubrey screams in my ear.

  I’m unsure of how to interpret her declaration. Was she claiming that I don’t get out much and this would be the time of my life? Or simply that her party will be one for the books? Anyhow, I smile.

  Aubrey turns to greet other guests piling into the big double doors. The truth drifts with every step she takes away from me. A part of me wants to follow her around the entire night, waiting for the second when she’s too drunk to contain her words. But a more prominent half wants to avoid anything connected to Sarah for the next few hours.

  I can’t seem to forget the theory Milton had about Sarah’s letter, that she abandoned us.

  “Mellow, please don’t stare,” I remind him, “he looks like he’s having fun with Mika and Max, so let them enjoy their time.”

  “Don’t you want to teach this guy a lesson? He’s too smug,” Milton says, baring his teeth.

  I shake my head, recalling the time I taught Gino a lesson. It was before Sarah went missing—left. He didn’t know what hit him. Thinking of the misery my actions caused him lights me up.

  “Why don’t we get on the dance floor?” I say.

  “What? Sober? No way, you know I can’t dance.”

  “I didn’t ask you if you could,” I grab Milton’s arm, and he lets me drag him to the middle of the room to a fancy padded floor. When I move my body to the beat, Milton doesn’t join me. He nods at the music at first, checking me out.

  “Join me,” I dance harder to inspire Milton to let go of whatever is holding him back.

  Milton smiles wider than I’ve ever seen before we become dance partners. Though we’re dancing together, there’s no harmonization between our moves. To outsiders, we’re two people having seizures.

  Aubrey’s threatening words come to fruition—having the time of my life—but then guilt creeps in. It stirs a ping in my gut, but then grows once I notice it. Sarah’s face intrudes into my thoughts, bullying its way to being the only thing I can think about.

  My movements slow and become less energetic as I scan the dance floor. She’s supposed to be here, dancing with us. It’s always been the three of us.

  “Are you okay?” Milton inches closer to make his worries heard.

  I shake my head, but don’t stop dancing. I’m afraid of what will happen if I do.

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  I shake my head again.

  “Okay, then I want to, Blaze. I’d like to sit down. Will you join me?”

  I almost decline by instinct, but then I regard his face. His brows are furrowed, creating the cutest worry line.

  “Yeah, okay, I’ll let you have a break.”

  Milton’s muscles are still full of vigor, with no fatigue in sight. He could go all night if he had the option. But my breath releases in short, ragged intervals. We reclaim our seats on the right side of the dance floor, but not soon enough.

  “I thought it would be easier.”

  “I told you I couldn’t dance—”

  “No, I mean putting myself first. Living out of the shadows.”

  “You’ll numb eventually and forget you’re wearing a band-aid,” Milton puts his hand over my rubber band before I can reach for it.

  “I need a drink. I’ll address the band-aid another night, but not now. I give you permission to do what it takes to keep my mind from those who shall not be mentioned.” I point my finger at the ceiling as if a light bulb goes off in my head. Though, it’s still very dim and Sarah-like inside.

  Mika comes over with Gino to take a seat.

  “Now, I really need a drink,” I say to Milton, but Mika overhears.

  “Drinks? Gino can get them, right?”

  Gino’s hesitation was palpable as he eventually nodded and made his way to the drink table.

  “How could you hang with ol’ dude?” Milton doesn’t waste time before tearing into Mika.

  “He’s a nice guy. Why wouldn’t I? Because of Sarah?”

  Milton and I pause, not sure of what she knows.

  “Gino told me all about their crazy-ass relationship,” Mika says.

  I shrink smaller than the centerpieces at the table. I need to disappear. If he’s told her about Sarah, what has he said about me?

  “He informed you of their history, which means you only heard his side,” Milton presses the situation.

  “And you only know Sarah’s side.”

  Milton searches hard for a comeback but comes up short. I’d love to say she’s right, but he’s done some ugly things on his side, and she can’t ignore that.

  “What did I miss?” Gino comes back with cups filled with a quarter of fruit punch.

  “Where’s the rest of it?” Milton challenges yet again.

  “He left room for this,” Mika takes out four one-ounce shots of vodka and pours one of each into our cups. She winks as she hands mine back to me. “You’re welcome.”

  “There’s something I forgot,” Gino addresses the group for the first time, “I have a funny story about Cleo,” he smirks before taking a swig of his drink.

  My stomach drops.

  thirty-eight

  Sarah—9 Days Before

  Since Aubrey would like to play texting games with Max’s phone, there’s no bigger lesson than the one I’ve been brewing. This may get messy with Max being involved, but according to him, they’re nothing more than friends.

  I slide my bra strap from one shoulder, teasing a bit of what Max has already had. It’s difficult, though, to get the right angle. I pose for the picture that will finally set this woman straight a million times over, but I think this one is it. Looking down at how many takes it took to get it right, I press send with a grin on my face, along with the message: I miss you, Max.

  The reason behind the photo isn’t for whatever reply he sends, but somehow, I still can’t wait to see. We agreed, second chances and all. I hope this photo is both innocent enough to keep our friendship and provocative enough for Aubrey to learn a lesson.

  “Sarah?” I hear Cleo call from the hallway before the door creaks open. Cleo advances into the room without another word.

  “Over here,” I say, pulling up my bra strap and turning off my phone’s screen.

  “Hey, I’ve been looking for you. Have you seen my texts?”

  I’m about to refuse, but I remember my phone is literally in my hand. This isn’t a good look. “I was talking to Max. Haven’t checked yet,” I say, shrugging.

  Cleo nods and comes to sit beside me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Both of our phones sound, but neither of us moves to check them.

  “You stood me up. We were supposed to meet in the garden with Milton, who was also a no-show. I thought you two were…”

  My heart sinks as her eyebrows raise and draw together, creating wrinkles and assumptions.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  Both of our phones go off again, but mine doesn’t stop. Eventually, the vibration ceases, but the notifications keep coming through. It’s malfunctioning.

  “What the hell?”

  Cleo checks her phone. Her mouth falls open, followed by a slow, disbelieving head shake. Her reaction makes me snatch her closer. To my dismay, I’m staring down at myself, bra strap askew with the little cleavage I have being the star of the show.

  Cleo’s phone blurs, and for a moment, I think it’s another malfunction. I soon realized it was from the tears welling in my eyes.

  “Shiv—”

  “Shhh,” I grab my phone and see the endless notifications that have resulted from that picture, “did she send that to everyone?” my voice cracks.

  Cleo desperately tries to find an answer. There’s a text message from Max, and the reply reads: Stay away from him, bitch.

  “She?” Cleo asks.

  I ignore her. I’m scrolling through the social media messages of people I don’t even talk to, reacting to the picture. Some of them are guys acting like sick jerks, the others are worried messages from old friends, and from Mika and Milton.

  I clear my throat. “I must go, Cleo. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the garden but…”

  She bobs her head in agreement, having heard only half the story, but not wanting to inquire any more.

 

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