"Hello . . . Lydia," I was good at faking smiles, but not that good.

Evil may have been a tad strong. To say I didn't like Lydia was inaccurate. I couldn't dislike someone I didn't really know. We had interacted tons of times, but we never really connected. But for all the things I kept hidden, Lydia's bored pitch-black eyes were hiding more than just secrets. I could feel it. She had a sinister aura. I had no reason to hate her though because she always behaved like a relatively nice person. The muscles in my stomach clenched regardless. I just couldn't help but imagine her clubbing baby seals with a smile on her face.

"So, what are you doing here?" She asked.

"What can I say? I'd do anything for love," I pointed to my bestie, still flirting away at the merch table. "Besides, I could ask you the same. There's no way this is your kind of music. What are you doing here?"

A wicked smile exposed her teeth in a menacing way, "I'm on the hunt."

"For what? Man-meat?" I scoffed.

"Rabbits, wily coyotes . . . vampires," she shrugged, ruffling her bobbed black hair. Lydia was odd in the dark sort of way. I could easily picture her as a femme fatale or future Mrs. Black Widow. She certainly liked to dress the part. Usually clad in skintight black everything, very Cat Woman vibes. She got almost as much attention from her unique style as Maeve.

I had learned to ignore her dark humor. "Did Eric come with you?" I asked.

She smiled, "Why? Been thinking about him lately?"

"Well, I've barely spoken to him since Halloween. We used to see each other every day. Now I only ever see him at school, and he seems to be avoiding me. So, is he here?" I pressed.

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed, "No, Eric doesn't like hunting."

I laughed, "I guess man-hunting wouldn't be his thing."

"I wouldn't call them men," she replied with a sneer.

Lydia was an odd duck, a menacing odd duck. It was best to just ignore her comments. "Will you just tell Eric I miss him, as a friend," I clarified. "It'd be nice to talk to him before graduation."

"Sure, and you can tell Maeve I said hi. Maybe we'll bump into each other out on the dance floor." She turned to leave but paused with a smirk, "Maybe tell your best friend that time is running out." She winked and disappeared into the crowd.

A few minutes later, Maeve was back with a free shirt and a button pin. "Was that Lydia?" They asked, eyes searching the crowd. Lydia was already gone, lost in the throng of dancers.

"Yep," I affirmed. "She told me to tell you that time is running out." I rolled my eyes at her dramatics.

Maeve puffed up their chest with flared nostrils, "Are you kidding me? I could seriously light that slutty chica's hair on fire!"

"You know you're not Hispanic at all, right?" I asked with a sly smile.

Maeve's anger subsided and a smile crept across their lips as they rolled their eyes, "I could be if I wanted to."

I rolled my eyes right back with a chuckle, "Riiight. What did she do this time to incur your wrath, anyway?" The tension between the two had been palpable for as long as I could recall. They never had all-out arguments or anything, but there was a visible electric hate in their eyes every time they were near each other. Not that it was uncommon for Maeve to dislike someone. It was very nearly on par with the tension between them and Ethan.

Maeve's eyes were still scanning the crowd but for a split second they flickered to me. "Uhm . . . She hit on Devon and I'm totally trying to tap that," they gestured crudely in Lydia's direction and shrugged.

"So, you're telling me she's threatening to jump on that before you do if you don't act fast?" It was a lame excuse that I wasn't buying. Maeve was a lot of things, but jealous about boys? Never.

"Gingy, baby, drop it," Maeve commanded, setting the full magnitude of her emerald green eyes on me.

"'Kay." I gulped down the remainder of my soda.

"Save some for the fishes," they quipped.

"Maeve," I sighed, "if you gave a fish soda it would get cavities."

They brought the back of their hand to their mouth as their big red lips parted in laughter. The sound broadened the smile on my face.

Maeve lured the bartender over with the pull of a finger and ordered two shots of tequila. The man was so enamored that he didn't seem the least bit concerned we might be underaged.

"I really shouldn't," I started to protest.

"Live a little, Lyric. We never know how long we have left. Carpe diem," Maeve said, handing me the glass.

"Just the one," I conceded.

After we gulped down a soda chaser, we made our way to the front of the dance floor. The place had gotten so packed that we pressed against the stage, but that didn't stop us from dancing. Something about suffocating in a crowd of bodies made me feel translucent and free. I could breathe without the weight of my past. Smile without the thoughts lurking beneath. By the time the first band had finished, I was in desperate need of a chair, oxygen, and water.

I made my way to the bar and waved until a bartender came to take my order. "Can I get a water?" I shouted over the crowd.

Maeve slid into the chair next to mine, "She means two rum and cokes."

This new bartender eyed us with suspicion, "Can I see some IDs?"

I shuffled in my seat to reach for the fake ID Maeve had given me, hoping it would work and planning my next moves if it didn't. If I try to back out by ordering a soda instead, he'll probably just be more suspicious, I considered.

"Actually," Maeve sensually stroked the bartender's hand, looking him in the eyes with intensity, "it's fine because we're twenty-one. In fact, it's my friend's twenty-first birthday and I think she deserves a free shot. How about you?" They challenged with a smile.

He stuttered a response, "Yuh—Yeah, I can do that."

"Maeve," I slapped their arm as he hurried away to fill our order, "I told you just the one earlier."

"Come on, Lyric, don't be like that," they clicked their tongue as he set down our drinks and a shot of tequila in front of us. "Carpe diem, remember?" Maeve handed me the shot and waved the bartender away without paying.

There goes another victim. Poor guy.

I debated, "I don't know . . . I'm supposed to see Ethan later tonight, I don't wanna be all liquored up when he comes over." I might do something I regret. Or have too much courage for what I want to do. I bit my lip, playing out the possibilities of the night in my mind.

Maeve groaned, slapping the counter, "It's almost too easy keeping you a virgin." They laughed, "You poor girl."

My cheeks burned with mortification, "My sex life has nothing to do with you." For hating Ethan, Maeve also made it clear virginity was lame. "I don't have to do anything until I want to. Not that I don't want to . . . it's just . . . I don't know . . ." I trailed off, evading their widening eyes.

Maeve pointed at me with wild enthusiasm, "You want to do the deed, don't you!" They accused, laughing again. "Too bad," Maeve shook their head, grinning from ear to ear.

I set the shot back down on the counter and stirred the rum and coke with my straw. "Of course I do! Eventually. Wouldn't hurt to be legal first. Or married," I stared into my drink. Let the battle of morals versus hormones begin.

Maeve picked up the shot and handed it to me again, "Gingy, baby, let life happen. You're eighteen in barely a month. What's the difference? Sweat the small stuff later. It's all just semantics."

"That doesn't even make sense—"

"Just take the shot," Maeve ordered.

No use arguing with Maeve. I choked down the tequila in one quick gulp and chased it with a swig of rum and coke, cringing at the overwhelming and burning flavors.

"Good girl," they praised, patting me on the back.

The rest of the night involved Maeve flirting with the guys from the opening band while I downed drink after drink. I was plied with enough rum and cokes to finally embrace Maeve's motto. By the time midnight came around, we were both sweaty from dancing our hearts out and I was drunk.

Stumbling to the car I had to stop at a dumpster to steady myself. "Hey," I tried to focus on a peculiar sight while the world around me spun. "I think there's a lady over there." Sure enough, two high-heeled feet were sticking out from behind the dumpster. I made my way around it and found a woman slumped against the wall. Her dress was stuck to a metal spur, raising it enough to expose her underwear. The smell of copper and iron mixed with all the other putrid scents of the alley. Something red was smudged down the woman's neck.

Maeve grabbed my arm, dragging me back to her car.

"Maybe we should help her," I suggested, my words slurring a little. I tried to yank my arm out of Maeve's grip.

They propped me up against the passenger door, "There wasn't anyone over there. The alcohol is playing tricks on you. You had such a fun night drinking and dancing. A special treat for your sacrifices to come. It's too bad you can't get laid tonight because no one deserves to die a virgin. But you'll forget I even mentioned it. Carpe diem, right?" Maeve winked.

My face blushed. "Carpe diem!" I giggled and let out a snort followed by an exaggerated sigh. "I had such a good night."

"You know, I had a great night too. I got all four of their numbers," Maeve announced as we climbed into the car.

I shook my head, smiling at the accomplishment. "This will forever be remembered as your greatest feat," I proclaimed, raising my fist into the air to the victory. "But you know they don't live around here, right? How are you supposed to go out with them?"

"Psh, I never said I was going to date them," Maeve laughed.

There wasn't much Maeve did that surprised me anymore, but it didn't stop me from rolling my eyes. We drove home in alternating fits of laughter recalling the highlights of our night out.

The second I was dropped off at my house, I texted Ethan. He wouldn't reach my house for at least ten minutes. It was just enough time for me to scrub away the stench of the nightclub. The hot water ran down my skin. Reminding me of the feverish blush that filled my body whenever Ethan was around, but I'd never acted on it. My past was too thick a wall to break down just yet. I imagined myself running my fingers through his soft black hair. Watching his big smile spread so wide it squinted his eyes nearly shut. Breathing in his scent. How he managed to smell so amazing was beyond my comprehension. It wasn't his shampoo or any cologne that made him smell so intoxicating. It was a mix of something floral like jasmine and something else I could never put my finger on. He swore he couldn't smell it, but it was all over him. It made my mouth water and my knees weaken. I composed myself and finally got out of the shower and into my pajamas. Crawling into bed, I tried to stifle my yearning and sober up while I waited for him to sneak in through my window.

Half an hour passed, and I began to worry. It was taking Ethan much longer than usual. There wasn't a whole lot that could go wrong between our houses. We didn't live in a dangerous area. We lived in a small, gated community in Soundless Cove. Dangerous animals never stalked the neighborhood at night. Even the cliffs behind my house had a gate. The guaranteed safety of our neighborhood was exactly why my mom had decided to move here. It could have been possible he was just taking care of Savannah. His little sister had him wrapped around her finger. But at two in the morning, I doubted it. I was about to sneak out to find him when the salty smell of the Pacific Ocean wafted in. The window closed with the slightest whisper of a sigh as Ethan slid into my bedroom without another noise.

I wanted to jump up and grab him, but I contained myself under the blanket. His eyes avoided mine as he walked over, kicking off his shoes, and sat on the edge of my bed. He had changed into a loose shirt and sweatpants but didn't look comfortable at all. If anything, he looked like he was in pain. His hand paused before reaching out to stroke the hair away from my face. We met each other's gaze, but the look in his eyes was a million miles away. There was something sad about him where the sparkle of his smile had been earlier. Ethan curled up beside me, pinning me snug under the covers with his weight. His scent had changed. The jasmine smell had lessened but the mystery smell had grown stronger. My mouth immediately watered. Whatever it was, it made me hungry.

I expected him to ask about whatever trouble Maeve had dragged me into this time, but he didn't. He seemed to fight with what he wanted to say. The smallest of tears wetted his eyes and my own tongue twisted into knots. Unable to find words to form a question or offer comfort.

Let life happen.

A sudden urgency overtook me. I pulled his face to mine and began to kiss him with more passion than I had ever allowed myself before. He kissed me back with matching force and the tears began to spill over his cheeks and wet my own. It dawned on me that I'd never seen him cry. Fear mingled into my desire for him. What could be so terrible? The thought of asking him didn't seem right. So, I just kept kissing him.

Now it was my hand that reached under his shirt to caress the smooth tanned skin on his back. I kicked the blanket that had been acting as a barrier between us to my feet and rolled on top of him. The irresistible smell of his skin called to me beneath his shirt, so I ripped it off over his head. It disrupted our kissing, and I watched Ethan's eyes fill with surprise as his tears lessened. I looked down at his bare chest and studied the curves of his abdomen. I'd felt the toned muscles of his chest beneath his shirt before, but this was different. This was like seeing his skin for the very first time. I wanted to touch every bit of him. Kiss every bit of him.

With liquor fueled confidence, I took off my own shirt. At least at this angle he wouldn't see the scars on my back. For now, I could negotiate with my modesty and work around it. I pressed the bare skin of my stomach against his. He was so much colder than me. Likely from his walk to my house. His encompassing hands traced the curves of my waist, triggering goosebumps all over my body. We kissed with more impatience as I moved from his lips to his neck. The mystery smell enveloped me, driving me to hungrily lick at his skin. The taste flooded my senses and I groaned.

Ethan gasped, pulling me back up to his lips. "You're drunk," he pointed out, muffling my protest with a gentle kiss.

It was true, I hadn't sobered up yet, but I couldn't let that stop me. My body was trembling and burning everywhere. My knees quivered, losing their solidity. Without parting our lips, I rolled him on top of me. His face was still wet with tears, but they had stopped flowing. I used my legs to pull him closer and wound my fingers into his hair. I wanted him even closer. Desperate, I reached for the clasp of my bra, trying to unhinge it. I wanted it now. I wanted it all right now. Screw morals. Screw it all. My breathing had become hot and erratic. It staggered heavily until I wasn't sure if I was breathing at all, and I was pretty sure my heart had skipped one too many beats.

Ethan grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. "No, not tonight," he whispered, holding me still before sliding off me.

He doesn't want me, I thought. He doesn't love me. My vision blurred behind a flow of sudden tears and a painful sob choked at my throat.

He pulled the blanket up to our shoulders and held me tight against his chest. His cool skin chilled my burning body. Broad hands covered the scars on my back and on any other day I would've recoiled. Today it filled me with a longing for him to know every scar, to touch every part of me, to be a part of me. Hatred and embarrassment boiled up inside of me. My crying grew uncontrollably louder. Ethan gently squeezed me close, stroking my hair. His own tears trickled down again, and I could feel his sobs ache with my own. The world was still spinning behind my inebriated eyes, but it only felt right. My life was spiraling. I could feel it. Something terrible was coming.

"I thought you loved me," I accused between sobs.

"I'll always love you, Lyric. You are my greatest virtue and guiltiest sin," he whispered. "I wish things could be different. I don't want to lose you," he loosened his grip to lean in and kiss me on the forehead.

"Lose me?" I choked. "You could never lose me."

His face twisted in pain as he looked me in the eyes and held my gaze, "No. You'll always have me." A tortured smile pulled his face tight, his gaze swallowing me whole, "Forget what's happened. I came over tonight and you told me all about Maeve's crazy antics. Nothing seemed different about me at all. We had the same conversation we always do about leaving Soundless Cove someday — seeing the world. We kissed and I told you how much I'll always love you. Then you fell asleep in my arms."

My panic subsided. Content to let it all just fade away; I buried my face into his chest and let the sound of the ocean serenade me. It beat against the cliffs like a thunderous beast, waiting to steal me away from it all. I inhaled deeply, letting myself taste Ethan's scent. Begging myself to dream about the day I could finally devour him.

And almost right then I was asleep.

And then came a dream that I had all too often, although it wasn't a dream at all.

It was a memory.

♪

I could hear their fighting through the walls like most nights, but tonight felt different. It was so violent. They weren't making any sense. My father shouted something about the devil's beast living in our house. Their bedroom door opened, and I hesitated to say something—anything. Every heartbeat grew faster, louder, as I waited. My lips quivered and I swallowed hard against the fear.

He wouldn't hurt me in front of her, he never did.

I wrapped myself into a tiny ball on the couch where I'd fallen asleep.

They were screaming at each other as they walked down the hallway to the living room. I pulled my blanket over my head except for one eye as I watched them scream into each other's faces. My mouth quivered to speak up, and then it happened.

My father shoved my mother to the floor. I sat up, shocked.

Before I could speak, my mother pleaded, "Stop it! Lyric's right there!" Her voice wrought with desperation as she pointed at me from her spot on the floor.

My father's face turned to me, "It's okay, she has to learn how to do it sometime." The reply he gave made no sense. The look in his eyes as he stared back at me was of primeval sadism. Then he turned his attention back to my mother, clawing at her clothes, trying to tear them off her.

My mother screamed, kicked, punched, and clawed back at him, attempting to escape. My legs refused to cooperate with my brain, as it demanded I run. He pulled her shirt and bra up over her head. The sight of her half naked body crippled me in place. I did the only thing I could do and pulled the blanket over my eyes.

I could hear her screaming at him to stop, and then her voice became quieter and quieter. Finally, the sound of sirens approaching made the house fall silent. I peeked out from under my blanket. My mother had managed to pull her shirt back on, but my father was still pinning her to the floor, holding her throat. He stilled his body for a moment, and then jumped up and ran out the door.

♪

The sound of somewhat distant sirens woke me. Real as they were and not simply resonating from my dream. I rubbed my eyes, attempting to focus my vision. Ethan was no longer tucked in bed with me. Morning light broke through the curtains. I looked around in sudden confusion as my brain pounded away with the ache of a hangover. A shiver ran down my spine and I searched for the blanket I had kicked to the floor in my sleep. The sirens continued and an irking feeling crept its way into my thoughts.

The sirens aren't for him, they can't be. There is no way that anything could have happened to him, I argued to myself. I'm being irrational. It's more likely something happened to one of the elderly people in my neighborhood. Besides, the only way those sirens could for Ethan is if someone saw him sneak out of my house and they assumed he was a thief or something. The thought calmed me and put a smile on my face. It would be far too amusing and terrifying to explain that to the police, or my mother. I would finally have to come clean about Ethan sneaking in through my window occasionally. My mother would probably have a hard time believing we were just sleeping though, but we always were. We had never been as intimate as I would've liked, not with my past haunting me.

Someday I'd have the courage to tell Ethan about my father, but the words caught in my throat when I'd tried so far. His attack on my mother was just the tip of the iceberg. He had fits of rage where he would lash out at me when she wasn't home. The scars on my back were proof enough, although I couldn't remember the incident. I didn't truly remember the bad things beginning until I was about eight. By the time I was ten, I came to realize that his behavior was unacceptable. It was the longest two years of my life.

That was why I wore a mask. A façade of a happy and mentally well extrovert. When we moved to Soundless Cove, I reinvented myself. Everything I did was with the intention to hide my scars. I feared the look of pity if anyone were to find out. So, I made sure my peers would never know that part of me. I had to be anybody that wasn't me. My mother didn't even know the real me anymore, but that was okay. The persona I had created for myself was better. In a way, it was the real me now. As tiresome as it had grown.

Growing up, my mother would tell me that the past never changes but the future is malleable. Although there were things from her past I knew she still longed for. She had been the music and choir teacher back in our old town. Music was her passion, and she loved to sing at every opportunity. All of my memories of her from before were of a vibrant woman who danced through life, singing like a magical princess. The night my father was arrested changed that. He had caused permanent swelling that damaged her vocal cords. Now her words were soft, never louder than a whisper.

Immediately following my father's arrest, we moved to Soundless Cove. She accepted a job as the music teacher at the high school. While I never took the class, I would often sneak by pretending to go to the bathroom. When I peeked in to watch her conduct the band, it was the only time I got to see her smile truly shine anymore. But behind her smile was still sadness. Something that had once given her great joy now caused her great pain. Killing her voice had killed her spirit. Her youthful glow had withered quickly and now she looked aged beyond her years.

The phone rang down the hall in my mother's room and I could hear her wake from her slumber to answer it. I looked at the clock. There was still a full hour before Ethan would be over for our traditional Sunday breakfast date. Her voice carried down the hallway in unintelligible mumbles. Then her footsteps rushed with heavy thuds to my door.