"Watch your fingers! Watch your fingers," Pearl repeated through exhausted breath.

We had severely underestimated how heavy the driftwood coffee table in the living room of 1255 Bud Ln was, and even with Dean carrying well over his fair share of the weight, it had been incredibly difficult to move. Luckily, we managed to lower it back down in front of the white brick fireplace without sending any of us to the ER with a broken finger. I plopped down on the couch.

Dean scurried into the kitchen, where he resumed his excessive jungle juice mixing. Half empty jugs of juice and liquor formed a forest of bad decisions on the virginal white countertops.

"I gotta go pick up Solo Cups, I just realized that we didn't get any," Perry said to nobody in particular as he started for the door.

"Is it cool if I go with you? I actually wanted to pick up some cigarettes for tonight," Pearl asked him and he turned to face her, cocking an eyebrow at her rudely.

God, he's such an ass...

"Drunk cigarettes don't count," she retorted and walked past him and out the door. My jaw dropped.

"What was that? What did she mean by that?" I asked, studying Perry's equally shocked face.

"Beats me," he grunted, turning on his heel and walking out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Silence filled the air. After a few moments, Dean spoke, his voice cutting through my skull from where he stood behind me.

"You know those two are fucking, right?"

"Don't be fucking ridiculous," I snapped like a rubber band, my neck aching from how hard I'd spun to face my out-of-line fiance.

He threw up his hands, a bottle of Everclear clutched in his right, as he smirked at me. I hated it when he didn't take me seriously.

"I could be wrong," he started, "but I'd bet money that they're either about to or they have been for a while."

I huffed at him, not wanting to continue to entertain such a ridiculous and insulting notion. Before last night, Pearl was a virgin, and there was no way that my best friend would betray my trust like that, especially without talking to me about it first.

"I'll be right back. Gotta make a phone call," I said dismissively as I lifted from the leather couch, smoothing the fabric of my white tennis skirt against the tops of my thighs. I gave him a pursed lip smile as I turned and walked past him and out the backdoor.

Safe again, with my knees tucked to my chest on my favorite bench, I dialed Sam's number. A crackle of static.

"Hey! What's up?" The familiar voice came through my phone and I smiled.

"Is there anywhere that you can go where we can talk in private?" I asked. From the music and the incoherent chatter in the background, I could've guessed that Sam was back at The Captain's Hook.

"Oh yeah! For sure... I'll be right back, Benji," Sam said. After a few moments, all sounds but the woosh of cars whisking around outside could be heard in the background.

Finally, I was able to tell Sam the truth about the non-romantic nature of Dean and I's relationship, as well as tell her about him being here and why. It felt amazing to have a kind, nonjudgmental and genuinely-listening ear.

"Well first of all, thank you for telling me and I want you to know that your secret is safe with me. I won't tell a soul, not a living one anyways," she pipped and I paused.

I just told a crazy person my biggest secret...

"I'm sorry... what?" I choked out. Sam's laughter came through the phone and I held it slightly further from my head, which still had a light throb from all of the drinking and crying yesterday night.

"It's not as weird as it sounds. I just like to go to the local cemetery and sit most days to talk to people. They seem lonely," Sam said and I could hear the proud smile in her voice.

"I don't know many people like you," I replied simply. I had decided that this behavior was odd, but not harmful, so I'd relaxed significantly.

"I don't either," she chirped.

"You out with the same group as last night?" I asked casually.

"Yeah, minus one and plus another." Sam answered and I nodded my head, satisfied by her answer.

I bet Nate stayed home tonight. Thank goodness.

"I was wondering if you guys wanted to come over tonight? We're planning on mixing up some jungle juice and playing some drinking games at the rental if you guys would be interested? Bring air mattresses if y'all want to crash," I rambled out an invitation, hoping intensely for a yes. Quite frankly, we didn't have anyone else to invite, and I didn't want to disappoint Dean's hopes for a crazy night.

"Oh, hell yeah! I'll go round everyone up and we'll head that way! Thanks for the invite!" Sam sounded excited, and the feeling was mutual. I gently fumbled with the laces of my bleached Converse as I grinned to myself. The more that Pearl acted out of character, the more I was drawn to my brand new friendship with the local alternative girl. I liked the way that our relationship was developing.

xxx

A couple of hours later, everything was in place: the ten-gallon white Igloo water cooler, its nozzle already stained red from the fruity elixir inside, the classic deck of cards next to an ice-cold case of Margarita Seltzers, accompanied by a notepad with all of the rules of King's Cup written in my quickened scrawl, and The Grateful Dead playing loudly through the brassy speakers of the sound system, it's television screen glowing with simulated psychedelic imagery. I hit my dab pen.

I was watching the eyes on a fox's sullen face shift into the spots on a ladybug's wing when I heard a thunder of footsteps on the front porch.

Sam's here!

Leaping from my spot on the couch, I speed-walked to the front door, ready to get the party started. I felt Pearl's eyes on me as I did so, but I was determined to have a good night despite whatever was going on with her. I flung the front door open.

Erupting into a fit of squeals, Sam and I threw arms around each other as if we hadn't seen each other earlier in the day at the thrift store. I pulled away and looked over Sam's shoulder at the other guests.

My heart lurched.

Standing at the back corner of the front porch was a blushing Nate, his mop of curls dancing with the warm night winds, salty on the skin and tongue. The world began to spin around him and I remembered that I was high. I looked away, my cheeks glowing with embarrassment.

My mouth is so dry... My throat...

"Well, uh... come on in," I coughed out, clearing my throat awkwardly and trying to avoid Nate's eyeline. Looking down at my shoes, I stepped back, pushing the front door open to let the guests in. From my peripheral vision I watched first Sam, then Johnny, then an unidentified form which I assumed to be the illusive 'Benji' cross in front of me. 

I held my breath. Waiting. 

His sturdy build approached me slowly, with intention and it sent waves of panic through my limbs..

Fight or flight.

"What do you want?" I spat. My voice was hoarse and slightly above a whisper, but with a rush of bravery I lifted my eyes to meet his. If I hadn't braced myself for it, the contact's immediate effect on me would have been easy to read on my face, but I did not falter. Neither did he.

"That's a bit unnecessary, don't ya' think?" Nate replied, crossing his arms over his chest. His striped button-up was open at the top, a loose canopy of chest hair peeking out from the olive skin of his sternum and up.

"What do you want?" I repeated myself more calmly than before. He was studying my face and with our relatively close proximity, I was finding it harder and harder to keep the rise and fall of my chest at a normal rate. He took a step in my direction and I took a step away from him, my back now pressed flatly against the cool glass surface of the front door.

"Can we talk? In private?" He asked urgently, his tone firm but quiet.

I nodded at him, but only because my voice had been stolen from me. Heat was already building steadily behind my eyes when I followed Nate out the front door and closed it behind me, the bolt gently clicking into place as I did.

If he humiliates me again... I'm sending him home before Sam gets too drunk to drive.

Nate led me silently down the front staircase of the rental and to Sam's black SUV parked on the sea of shattered white shells. Calcium crunched under-toe. 

He sighed and leaned his back against her car, his hands tucked behind his back and one knee extended further than the other. The light overhead was yellow. Flickering.

I stood opposite him, feeling more vulnerable than I wished to: intoxicated and alone with the unkind yet attractive stranger. My previous bravery was slipping and with a trembling voice I asked again:

"What do you want?" It was gentle this time. Intimate. His eyes, barely visible to me now, softened noticeably.

Nate cleared his throat as he broke eye contact with me, staring off to the right instead. A vein caught the light, casting a snake of a shadow across his neck.

"I want to apologize." 

"Ha, right," I spat back half-heartedly, crossing my arms against the cotton material of the cropped tank top that I was wearing. If accused, I would've denied it, but I was gently lifting my boobs with my arms, showing off. Nate was insufferable, but he was also insufferably hot. And I wanted him bad.

Standing alone with him in the quiet darkness, the gentle whistle of beach winds and the steady crashing of waves onto the shore whispered around us. We could have both been naked and I wouldn't have felt any more vulnerable than I did in that moment, the darkness surrounding us and our eyes. Venom was leaking from my veins. Leaving, for now.

"I didn't mean to make you that upset. I'm sorry," he said earnestly, dark gentle eyes fixed with mine.

"Oh, uh," I fiddled with my own fingers, "I probably overreacted slightly. I was pretty drunk."

I watched as the shadowy corners of his lips curled upwards, setting my chest aglow. A flame waiting for a moth.

Nate took a step closer to me and a hot wave of alcohol hit my nose. He wasn't nearing blackout yet, but he was definitely drunk, inhibitions noticeably lowered. Drunk boy and high girl: mentally humping each other in the front yard. Very classy.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to act like a normal fucking person around you?" He asked, but it came out as a plea.

My breath hitched in my throat and I was completely frozen in place, too scared to move or blink or for the moment to end. He approached me slowly, careful not to spook the wild animal he had caught in his trap. Stopping a few inches from me, I could feel the heat radiating from his warm skin.

With an unbearably soft touch, he traced a single finger up and down the side of my arm and the feathery sensation was scorched into my flesh, branded and never to be forgotten. This moment was never to be forgotten. I would never forget how Nate felt in this moment.

"Kiss me," I pleaded hoarsely, my quickened breath hitting the goosebumped skin of my desired stranger.

"Didn't realize that you had the authority to give me orders," he hissed as he inched closer, the gap between our aching bodies shrinking to a dangerously small space.

"Please," I whined and bit my lip at him, desperate.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I closed my eyes, expecting to finally feel Nate's soft lips against mine. And for the second time, I was disappointed.

"June? June?" Pearl's worried voice cut through the humid night air and Nate smirked as he turned and walked away from me. He hadn't even hesitated.

"I'm okay! I'm coming up now!" I responded as nonchalantly as humanly possible, attempting to shake off the last few minutes of horny staring contest as I began my hurried walk back inside. 

What the fuck just happened?