Tuesdays are the absolute worst. It's not far enough from Monday, and it's too far from Friday. If I had to pick a day that embodies some of the worst things in the world (school, eggplants, reality TV, cotton candy ice cream), Tuesday would be it.

I spent all morning dodging Mom as she followed me around the house while I got ready for school. She asked me a thousand questions about the Lady Gaga toothbrush to write one of her unnecessarily elaborate online reviews.

Every time we receive a package from a shopping website (which is very often, mind you), Mom proudly declares that she is a 'Certified Reviewer'. She also says that she receives free stuff all the time, but that's a real mystery to me as I haven't seen a single free package at our doorstep yet.

Then, I had a God-awful day at school, which is to say that I had a regular day at school. And the fact that Evy was unusually sullen during lunch made things a little worse. I don't know why she was that way. Maybe someone died on Game of Thrones again.

My frustration compounded as I reached home and realized that I had three hours of homework to do.

I check my watch as I jog towards my lighthouse. It's well after midnight. The desperate hope that Dylan Frost would've gone home by now propels me forward. I'm tired, restless, sleep deprived and annoyed. I need the lighthouse to myself desperately.

But of course, Dylan Frost is still here. He's sitting on the floor, leaning against the lighthouse tower. His chest rises and falls in a smooth rhythm, his eyelids closed.

I force him awake by clearing my throat loudly. He straightens up at the sight of me looming over him.

"You're late, Ambrosia."

It's at this point that I want to scream at the top of my lungs and pull my hair out. But I'm too tired to perform screaming or pulling of any sort. Instead, I glare at Dylan and sit with my legs dangling through the railing.

"I thought you would've gone home by now," I mutter, rubbing my face in defeat.

Dylan makes no reply. When I turn to check on him, I find that he's busy listening to music. His hair sticks up in the back as he leans his head against the cement wall.

This time, before I can look away, Dylan's strange ocean eyes pop open. Slowly, he pulls a pair of white earphones and a splitter out of his pocket. The splitter (a contraption that allows two earphones to go into the same input) has a strip of sparkly blue tape wound around it.

The wind is roaring, the waves are crashing. I remain silent as I stare at the tape, glinting under the moonlight. I raise my eyes to Dylan's face. A questioning gaze, creased forehead, lips parted in a sad smile.

Before I can stop myself, I reach out and close my hand around the splitter. As though possessed, I find myself scooting closer to Dylan.

(I look around myself frantically, hoping that the Winchesters will appear out of nowhere, shirtless and wielding fancy blades.)

I realize that I'm making a monumentally stupid mistake when Dylan plugs the splitter into his phone and hands me a pair of earphones. I know I'm going to regret this later. But right now, all I want is to silence the ocean and the breeze. Which is ridiculous; the ocean and the breeze are two of my favorite things about the lighthouse.

Ugh. All this is Dylan freaking Frost's fault.

A song starts to play as soon as I plug my earphones in. It's quite loud, but it serves the purpose of blocking out every other noise. Goosebumps break out on my arms, but the rush doesn't last long. A horribly familiar ache starts in my chest as the lyrics register. The past, the memories, every bit of everything I'm trying to forget. It comes rushing back, and I want to silence it all. It's too late to stop listening to the song now; I'd be alone with my thoughts if the music stops.

I curse under my breath and reach for Dylan's phone. He looks down at me in surprise when I snatch it away from his hand and crank the volume even higher.

The song comes to an end too soon. My muscles tighten as the music starts to fade out.

I look up from my lap when Dylan's fingers brush the back of my hand lightly.

"Again?"

I try and fail to ignore the hope in his eyes, shooting bullets into my skin.

"Again."

Just this song, just tonight. It'll never happen again. This doesn't change anything.

When the song starts playing again, we fall silent. It takes effort, but the music eventually consumes everything. Only the song, the stars and the sensation of Dylan's body less than an inch away from mine remain.

And just like that, it doesn't feel like a Tuesday anymore.

Even as I sneak into my bedroom an hour later, the song refuses to leave me. I climb under the covers of my bed, trying not to jostle K-Stew in the process. I expect to spend a good few hours tossing and turning, but for the first time in a long while, I fall asleep as soon as I close my eyes.

---

Dear reader,

Thanks so much for reading this chapter! I really hope you enjoyed it.

The song that accompanies this chapter (Illenium - Fortress (feat. Joni Fatora)) comes under the Electronic Dance Music genre. I recommend that you listen to the song when Dylan and Amber meet at the lighthouse, because that's when the music suits the scene.

If you're unfamiliar with the artist or this kind of music and you want to explore, just leave a comment! I'm happy to share my favorites with you. <3

Love,

Amethyst