I clutched the glossy black flask Leah had given me tightly in my sweaty hands. I didn't even know what she had put in it - she just gave me a wink and said it was a surprise before sending me off to meet Jayden at his house for pre-prom pictures. Braxton had asked Leah, but she politely declined again, much to my annoyance. Braxton was an alright guy, but I would have preferred to endure senior prom with my best friend. Having to endure prom with a bunch of people I didn't like would have been easier with her around. At least we could have made fun of everyone else together.

Instead, I was sitting in an empty hotel courtyard, filling my empty stomach with a random concoction of liquor, and listening to tacky pop music thump through the big open windows of the ballroom in the hotel.

It was a cold night in May, and as wind carried through the trees, I regretted wearing such a short dress. I didn't even like burgundy, but Jayden insisted on matching. Burgundy went best with his complexion, which meant it went best with my complexion too.

Jayden had gone off over an hour ago to snort some cheap cocaine one of his basketball buddies had picked up, leaving me to wander around the hotel lobby, catching glimpses of couples in various stages of their night: "sloppy drunk" making out, "angry drunk" fighting, or "can't handle being drunk" throwing up. I ended up in the courtyard by chance, following the alluring scent of fresh air that my pounding head desperately begged for.

As the music slowed, I kicked around dirty with the toe of my uncomfortable pointy heel and sat on a bench underneath a dying tree, it's flowers brittle and faded even as spring came blowing in. I probably could have called a cab to take me back home, but there was part of me that wanted to linger. Part of me that wanted to believe I meant more to Jayden than just upholding part of his popular, prom king image. Part of me that wanted to believe he'd still show up and sweep me off my feet. The music stopped playing, leaving just the sound of howling wind in the night, reminding me that I was alone, and nobody was coming. At least, nobody I expected.

"What are you doing out here, Kenny?"

I didn't need to look up to know it was Grey, although my heart jumped into my throat at the sight of seeing him in a suit. He looked down at me, his cheeks red and his eyes twinkling in the night.

"I thought prom wasn't your thing," I said with a shrug, taking another sip from the flask. Alcohol burned the back of my throat, and I still couldn't figure out if it was tequila or rum.

Music started fluttering through the air again, this time slower and more soulful. I immediately recognized it as "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King.

I had very few memories of my father - I couldn't even recall what he looked like - but for some reason I had a vivid memory of him playing that same song in the kitchen every Sunday when he made breakfast. He would always make eggs, even though I hated them, and he'd hum along to "Stand By Me."

Grey extended his hand out to me, and that same twinkle in his eyes knew I'd take it without hesitation.

"It's not," he said as he pulled me up and into his chest. "But dancing with you is kind of my thing, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

"Where's your date?" I asked coyly.

"Probably with yours," Grey replied without missing a beat. "Smoking weed in the bathrooms or something."

I gave him a slight chuckle and rested my head in his chest. We swayed back and forth slowly in the dark, and even though it was a beautiful, serene moment I should have enjoyed, guilt thumped in my chest. Grey had given me all the time and affection and attention I could have ever asked for, and yet not 10 minutes ago I had been hoping Jayden would have been the one to come outside and ask me to dance.

What kind of person did that make me?

I squeezed my eyes shut and listened to the music, hoping to clear the dark clouding my head.

When the light has come

and the land is dark

and the moon is the only light we'll see

no I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid

Just as long as you stand, stand by me

I chewed on the straw of my drink, a scowl making its way across my face as the old jukebox on the other side of the bar crackled to life. The music and lyrics that I had so vividly etched in my memory thrummed through the stale air of The Net, and Ben E. King's soulful voice began to fill every corner of the room.

"I hate this song," I groaned, taking another long sip of my vodka tonic. I ordered no ice this time.

Delilah rolled her eyes as she drowned her french fries in ketchup. "Stop changing the subject. I need more details."

"There are no more details," I insisted, rubbing my temples. "I'm an idiot. I don't know how many other ways I can describe that. I should still be mad at him."

"But you're not," Delilah said pointedly. "And for the record, I actually don't think you're an idiot at all. You've finally come to terms with feelings you've been so desperate to hide behind whatever it is that you're mad at him about. I think that makes you...well, whatever the opposite of an idiot is."

I scoffed and snagged a french fry from her. "No, I'm an idiot because I don't know why I let some crap Grey said when he was so blacked out he could barely form a complete sentence have such a hold over me. I'm an idiot because there's part of me that really believes that something even remotely decent could come out of what happened the other day."

Delilah gave me a coy smirk. "Judging by the way he's staring at you from the other side of the room, I'd say it's less idiotic than you think it is."

A chill ran through my veins, my body suddenly very aware of Grey's glare on me. When I finally brought myself to look at him, I felt the air being sucked out of the room. His eyes looked me up and down, but not in the usual cold, disdained way. They twinkled in the dark - in a sad, helpless way. He kept his gaze on me as he pushed himself away from the bar and made his way to the back door. My nerves began to thaw, and I finished off my drink before jumping out of my seat.

"I'm going to settle this," I said, tearing myself away from the table before Delilah could shoot me another sly remark. I pushed my way through the usual crowd, my heart rattling in my chest like a tiger in a cage. When I threw my body against the back door of the bar and tasted the outside air, I finally exhaled. Grey leaned against the brick wall of the side of the building with a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers, and the sad, helpless look in his eyes gone.

"Can we clear the air about the other day?" I exhaled again, realizing how out of breath I was.

Grey took a long drag of his cigarette. "Yeah, we should."

"Look, about what I said to you..." I pulled at the sleeves of my jean jacket, feeling my cheeks heat at how meek and unconfident I sounded. "Do you remember the night before that? Do you remember what you said to me?"

Grey kept his cigarette pressed between his lips, sending ribbons of smoke in the air. His chest rose and fell with his breaths, calm and steady, but a fog glazed over his eyes. Everything about him seemed faded and dull, even in the warmth of the nighttime sun.

"I was drunk Kennedy, okay?" He said as he rubbed the side of his face. "I know what I said but..."

"Well that's why I said what I said," I blurted out, my pounding heart not willing to let him finish the rest of his sentence.

Grey died his cigarette out with the toe of his Converse sneaker. The fog in his eyes remained. "Look Kenny, I'm done trying to fight with you. I'm too tired."

"Me too," I sighed out. "I just want us to be civil, if that's okay with you."

Grey nodded. "Civil works for me. The past is the past, and that's where it should stay."

"And that includes the last 48 hours," I added.

Grey swallowed hard. "Sure. Whatever you say."

I went cold again. When Grey and I were happy in our secret relationship, quiet and behind closed doors, there was part of me that was so tethered to my image and my bullshit with Jayden that it ruined what Grey and I had. What kind of person did that make me? A fucking idiot.

Standing in front of Grey years later, I was still a fucking idiot. Except this time, I was tethered to nothing except my own stubbornness and denial. It was going to continue to eat away at me like a plague unless I swallowed my pride and stopped blaming him for my own downfalls and the nightmares that haunted me.

As Grey turned to walk away, I grabbed his wrist, pulling him back towards me.

"What?" he asked.

I replied by leaning up into him and planting my lips on his, tasting cigarettes and beer. Part of me expected him to pull away, so my stomach was thrown for a loop when he wrapped his arms around my waist and pushed me against the hot brick of the building. Our tongues danced together slowly, just like the way he and I danced at prom. When we finally separated, my chest burned and throbbed like there were fireworks going off inside of me.

"We could...continue our conversation somewhere else," Grey said softly, his forehead pressed against mine. "Somewhere maybe a little more private."

Without hesitation, I nodded. "Great idea."