"I swear to God, this day is going to kill me. I'm actually going to melt from the heat." Haley groaned through the phone. "Aussie summers suck."

"Just get an umbrella."

I could almost feel the look she was giving me through the phone. "Nuh-uh. This is the summer. I can feel it in my bones. I'm going to get a tan."

Haley was literally the whitest person I had ever seen. I flopped down onto my bed, iPhone pressed to my ear. "You're going to get cancer and a heatstroke."

"Girl, stop crushing my dreams. I'm going to get a tan for once in my life. You'll see. You don't know the pain of being a pale potato. Your skin is all perfect and shit." She grumbled.

"I'm half Mexican." I rolled my eyes. "It's genetic, not because I sit outside all day ogling guys."

She grunted. "I hate my genes, you know that? The damn buggers are screwing up my life. They actually make me turn into a living tomato whenever the light of day touches my poor potato skin." I heard her slap something. "This is injustice! Ruining my chances of finding a man!"

I snorted, grinning. "Right. It's not like you've got the most gorgeous eyes ever, or that your hair is literally gold."

"Oh, and look who's talking! Your hair is like, directly from one of those fashion magazines, and you have the body of a goddess."

I snickered. "A goddess?"

"Uh, yeah! Don't tell me you haven't seen the guys that stare when you walk down the street. God, never mind, you probably haven't. Angela, you need to get a boyfriend." I could hear her grin cheekily. "Or a one night stand, if that's how you like it. I won't judge."

I scrunched my nose. "Why? I'm doing perfectly fine on my own."

"You have to loosen up! It's the summer, you're supposed to have fun! You know, go to clubs, have wild sex, get disgustingly hammered!" Haley sighed, sounding strangely nostalgic.

"I don't want to have wild sex. I don't even want to have decently-mediocre sex." I frowned.

"Spoken like a true virgin." Haley's voice echoed sagely.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a virgin."

"Yeah, I know, The Asshole Bastard Jerk-face took it, but he's an idiot so it doesn't count." She said, referring to my ex, whom she diligently took ample time to trash-talk every time he came up. He voice turned serious. "Look, Angela, I guess what I mean is that I worry for you. I mean, you're basically a senior in university! And you've still never learned all the important things in life, like how terrible chundering at a bar is, or how to dance the night away, or how to wrap a guy around your pinky finger." She grimaced dramatically. "I mean, honey, you haven't learned how to have fun."

"Hey, I've-"

"No, shush." She interrupted.  "Angela, you're so focused on your future, you don't see the present. Hell, the whole world seems to be focused on the future. It's all about the college you get into, then landing a good job, then buying a good house, and marrying a good husband. But good is only going to get you so far, you know? Good is going to last you five years, and then you're going to realize that your perfect little life isn't so perfect anymore. Good is boring. Ask anyone. And I'm sure you have some science crap-"

"Actually-"

"I really don't give two flying turtle shits." Haley scolded, then her voice softened again. "Angela, you don't have much time left. Soon you'll have your little adult degree with your adult friends, and you'll spend your entire life regretting your childhood. You know I love you, Angie. I don't want you to look back in five years, bored to hell with your life, wondering why you didn't just do something spontaneous and fun and impulsive with your life while you still had the chance! Just let fun happen!"

I blinked, surprised at her passion. "Now hold up, I happen to like good just fine!"

She snorted. "Bullshit. C'mon, please? Loosen up!"

"Haley, I don't know... I can't-"

"Great!" She interrupted me, voice jaunty. "Tonight. Meet me at my place in something really hot. 8 o'clock on the dot. And don't be late or I'll rip your tits off." I heard her walking.

"Haley, wait! I can't-"

"Holy shit!" Haley yelled. "Oh my God!"

A screech echoed through the phone, and then a bang.

"Haley?" I frowned, heart pounding. "Haley?"

There was no response. In the distance, voices yelled.

"Oh my God, Haley?!" I yelled. "Haley, are you alright? Answer me, dammit!" Fear was pulsing through me now. "Shit, Haley, say something!"

There was nothing.

The police were already at the bar before I got there. Flashing red lights lit the night sky, and yellow caution tape striped through my vision, with a backdrop of dusky orange-gray sky. I wasn't allowed in.

Only after asking three police officers what had happened, did I learn the truth.

Haley had been hit by a drunk driver. She had pushed the older woman in front of her out of the way of the car, but hadn't gotten away herself.

Haley was dead.

The police questioned me, and I probably told them that Haley's parents lived in New Zealand, and that she came to Sydney for uni. But now I only remember crying myself to sleep that night, clutching the stuffed animal Haley had given me when we first met, and surrounded by used tissues that littered the bed like pale leaves after a violent storm.

 Her funeral was large. Her parents, her brother, and family friends flew in on their jet. Tears were exchanged, hugs were exchanged, and condolences were given.

 And I hated it. Their sad smiles, their wishes, their sorrows. I didn't want them. They meant nothing to me, not from the parents who barely even knew her, who pushed her off onto others while they traveled the world. I didn't even want to be there, on that sweltering day that crushed me smaller and smaller with every breath. I didn't want to be in the black dress, wearing my favorite heels, with a face painted with makeup, and with ringlets of hair that caused two burned fingers.

 I didn't want Haley to be in that coffin, nailed into a box. Haley should be free, like her spirit, shifting across the Earth, soaring to unknown places.

But mostly, Haley should've been alive, and that's what I hated most.

The street Haley was hit on was cleared like nothing had ever happened. The bar she had been at opened like nothing had ever happened. The customers drank like nothing had ever happened.

I felt sick.

Haley, my best friend, was dead. And it felt like the world had simply erased her existence. An unknown number of glasses of the most disgusting liquid in the solar system later, and my thoughts were getting really muddled.

"Goddamn kittens." I muttered. "Being bloody cute and crap." I glared into my sparkling glass. A tear dripped onto the ice cubes. Maybe that's how it continued to be so full.

"I actually quite like kittens." A male replied from behind me. Six feet and change of lean muscle sat down next to me. Wiping my eyes, I shifted to glance at the owner of the voice. Brandon Mathews, Haley's only brother. I had only met him earlier at the funeral, and I'd tried not to look at him because I knew I'd stare.

"Oh. Hi." I said, grappling with my drunk mind not to poke his arm.

A downcast silence fell between us. The bartender placed a drink in front of him.

"You know, her last words to me were that I should have more fun." I mumbled, sniffling.

"Her last words to me were 'Get stuffed, you fucking arsehat.'" He grinned sadly, a smile that shouldn't have sent a swoop through my stomach like it did.

I smiled, tears blurring my vision, as we both descended into memories.

"So what are you doing here?" He broke the quiet softly.

I hugged myself, water rushing to my eyes again, and took a huge gulp of liquid courage. "In-in my last conversation with her, she wanted me to come here, so I could 'learn to have fun'."

He shook his head, smiling sadly. "She did that to me too, coincidentally."

"Really? That's weird." I frowned in confusion, taking another drink to hide my puffy eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Wait a second." He turned to me, absorbed in thought, then his expression turned incredulous. "She was setting us up!"

"What?" My alcohol addled mind was having trouble thinking.

"Haley. She was setting us up." He ran his hand through his hair. "It all makes sense now."

"She was setting..." My jaw dropped. "Like a date!" My words slurred a bit.

"That's why she told me she knew I would meet someone here!" He shook his head, smiling. "God, she was so annoying about it, too! She gave me this whole speech..."

My drink tasted really good. I drank some more. And then some more.

"You're hot." I stared at his sea-green eyes, and dirty blonde hair. "Like really hot."

He laughed. "How many drinks have you had?"

"Lots." I grinned proudly. "So many. All of them." Then my face fell. "But I'm not having fun. Haley wanted me to have fun. But I-I can't, not without her. If Haley were here, she would have had more." My voice cracked. "Haley would-would have gotten all the guys to buy her drinks, and she would have left all of them waiting until we had decided which one was..." My voice shook, and I scrubbed at my face. "Th-then she would have asked m-me..." I couldn't talk, I was shaking too much.

A warm body enveloped me, and I distantly recognised Brandon's voice. I buried my head into his hard chest and cried. I cried huge, body-wracking sobs, that took a hold of you and held on in a painfully tight grip. I cried until I shook, I cried until I couldn't breathe. I cried until I couldn't remember why I was crying. And then I remembered, and the grief rushed over me again in an inescapable wave, and then I cried some more. Tears splashed onto my clothes, onto his shirt, and soaked into my skin. I could feel him hug me closer, I could hear the sadness and fatigue in his voice, and I could feel him shaking too. The world narrowed to me and him, our shared sorrow.

When the tears stopped filling my eyes, and I grew too exhausted to cry anymore, I realized I wasn't in the bar anymore. Brandon was carrying me through a huge room.

"Where are we?"  I asked, looking around.

"My hotel." He replied gently. "You're way too drunk to drive home."
    "Oh." I rubbed my eyes. "Drunk. Alcohol. Bad. Right."

He let me down onto the softest bed I had ever felt. Instantly, weariness swept over me, and pulled me under its powerful current.

I looked up at him, heartbroken. "I miss her so much."

His brilliant blue eyes met mine, sadness tainting the color. He looked exhausted. "Me too."

"Goodnight, Angela." He turned and moved toward the doorway. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the grief, or maybe it was the summer madness that seemed to be everywhere lately.

"Don't leave." My voice was as pitiful as my plea. "Will you stay with me?" I hesitated, speaking softly. "I don't want to be alone."

He paused, turning to face me. Indecision flickered across his face, before he sighed. "To be honest, I don't want to be alone either." His eyes met mine, and I felt the weight of our shared grief get a little lighter.

And when I rolled into him, and his hands landed on my hips, and the green glint of his eyes in the dark met mine, I knew what would happen. And for once, I let it. Her voice echoed through my head, just let fun happen, and I finally listened. I let our bodies touch, our mouths meld, our breathing speed. Our sighs mingled, and our bodies arched against each other, and our sweat blended with our dried tears until there was no distinction between passion and sorrow.

I woke in the wake of the storm, gold light streaming gently through the window, with my head against his warm chest, and his arms wrapped snug around me. Dried tears and mascara smeared across my face, and grief marred his, but my broken heart felt like maybe, just maybe, it would be able to heal.

Because Haley was still alive, I realized. Maybe not in body, but in spirit. She was in his blonde hair and laughing eyes, she was in my strange habits we had made together. She was in the laughter he and I shared when talking about her. Brandon and I each kept little pieces of her life, and when we sewed them together with thread made of love and pain, we had something indescribable. We had Haley's soul, and as long as we lived, that would never fade.

A/N:
So... Kittens?

If you enjoyed, clicking the little star shaped thing will bring happiness to kittens all across my imagination. And remember to comment to tell me what you thought!

This was written for the Romance contest Summer Fling. Word count: 2223

Hugs,
~Book Dragonet