It's been two weeks since I left Tyler broken on my lawn. I haven't seen him since. The beach has become a place to avoid now, rather than a place to find comfort. When I pass it, even just to go to work, anxiety spears me through my chest.

What if he sees me? Or even worse, what if I see him?

I've managed to contain the emotions bubbling beneath my skin, begging to be released, by keeping my mind off him and what happened. Olivia was more than happy to give me some extra shifts when I asked, and my dad's been loving our regular movie nights. The times when I'm alone, when my mind runs off to forbidden places, I put my earphones in.

When I met Tyler, the need to wear my earphones grew weak. It was like instead of relying on the distraction of music, I relied on him. But now, with the thought of him bringing me more pain than comfort, I rely on music again. To provide a distraction from him this time.

I know I can only put it off for so long. Eventually, the ache in my chest will become too strong. Too heavy. And I'll be forced to face it. But not today. Not yet.

"Honey, your phone's ringing!" My dad calls from downstairs.

I watch my brows furrow in the mirror. My toothbrush hangs limply in my mouth. "Who is it?" I ask. No one ever calls me.

"It's an unknown number."

I spit toothpaste into the sink. "Answer it. It might be work calling me to cover a shift."

I swill my mouth out with water and scoop my hair up into a bun. The girl staring back at me is a different person from the one I became accustomed to seeing back home. She had dark circles and matted hair. Bloodshot eyes with lashes that were permanently soaked from crying. Her eyes had grown dark. Lifeless. As if I was staring into a bottomless pit of nothingness. Now, the dark circles are lighter. My hair is untangled, and my eyes are brighter. Not as bright as they could be, but bright enough.

It pains me to think that the permanent creases between my brows and the shadows beneath my eyes will probably always be there. And that, for a split second, they grew less noticeable when Tyler was around.

When I go downstairs, my dad is leaning against the counter with my phone pressed to his ear. He's smiling from ear to ear.

"I'll pass you onto her now. Remember you're always welcome to come down and visit whenever you like," he says.

"Who is it?" I whisper when he holds the phone out to me.

"Emily."

Hearing her name feels like I've been lashed by an ice-cold wave. My face falls and I just stare at the phone in my hand. I deleted her number when I got back to Seabrook Island. After our last conversation, I knew I wouldn't need it anymore.

I didn't want it anymore.

But with my dad looking at me with furrowed brows, wondering why I'm not answering her, I'm forced to take a deep breath and press it to my ear. "Emily, hi!" I exclaim, fake sweetness dripping from my words. "One second, let me just go up to my room." Once I reach my room and shut the door behind me, the sweetness vanishes. "Why are you calling me?"

I hear her sigh on the other side of the phone. "I feel really bad for how I acted at the party. You know how I get when I drink." She chuckles, "I didn't mean anything I said. It was the alcohol talking."

A pounding headache starts behind my eyes.

"Cut the crap, Emily. You used me as a punching bag to impress your friends. Don't even try to deny it."

She stays silent for a while. "What's going on with you? It's like you moved and become a whole other person."

"Right." I roll my eyes, "I guess the sea air gave me some well-needed clarity."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks, her voice defensive.

"It means I don't need you in my life anymore. You were never really my friend, were you? I was just someone you chose to hang onto as a backup."

"Listen." She breathes deeply, "I don't know what's gotten into you but maybe we should talk about this in person. You could come down to Phoenix again during- "

"No, you only care when your other friends are busy. I've spent my whole life being the shadow, watching you pick a cinema date with your boyfriend or a trip to the nail salon over me. And moving has proven to me what I always knew, deep down. You don't care about me. You never did. When my mom died, where were you?"

"I was giving you space," she says.

"Don't you think I would have needed my best friend?"

A sob threatens to escape but I swallow it down.

"Scarlett, I- "

"You only cared when you needed something. When you were upset or when you were struggling with your parent's divorce. And I was there for you. I'd always be there for you. But when I needed you, you couldn't even be bothered to pick up the phone and call me."

"I was busy with work, you know that."

"Oh, I didn't realize working weekends at a diner meant that you had no time to call me. Five minutes. That's all it would have taken to check in and be there for me. You couldn't even be bothered to give me that much."

"I think we should talk about this in person," she grumbles blankly.

"I've got nothing left to say."

Before she can respond, I end the call. My phone is thrown across the room as I fall back onto my bed. All the wasted memories we had together play like a movie in my head and I experience all the emotions again. Sadness. Joy. Pain. All of them. And when it's finally over, I shatter the disk into a million pieces. Relief swells in my chest.

I haven't just gotten rid of Emily. I got rid of the person that let herself be put last too.