It was a warm summer night-the kind of night you hear about in movies, a night with a full, bright moon high in the sky like a disco ball to dance under. Emilie and I were at Aunt Tammy's as our parents left us behind for a special anniversary dinner at a restaurant with giant plates for tiny foods. Aunt Tammy gave us a few bottles of old nail polish as entertainment then proceeded to fight with her current boyfriend on the phone in the backyard. We heard everything. The sliding door was wide open with a screen to catch bugs but nothing to block the plethora of profanities spewing from Tammy's mouth.

We smeared glitter polish on our fingers and locked eyes whenever a curse word was thrown around. Emilie accidentally knocked over an open bottle of Yellow Polka Dot Bikini polish onto the carpet, and when Tammy came rushing in, she quickly sat on the splotch. Little did we know that at some point Tammy stopped talking to her deadbeat boyfriend because of another call she was getting from the police. She hurried to us with flushed cheeks and wet eyes, and Emilie assumed she knew about the nail polish spill. Really, she was flustered because our parents had been in a car accident on the way to the restaurant.

"No no no, you remembered it wrong. It was the summer after eighth grade that we got banned from the Quick Stop for stealing candy. That's partly why I dyed my hair black, remember? So I could still get the Teen Beat magazines because it was the only gas station within walking distance of my house," Becca explains, correcting Allison who stated that it was the summer after freshman year.

"Oh, you know what, you're right," she says. "We went to that run-down summer camp the summer after freshman year. Oh, dang, what was it called again? Camp Hobanoka? Habanka?"

"Camp Hanokawa," I pipe up from behind them.

We make our way down the spacious, glaring hall of the mall close to Becca's house. For a Saturday afternoon, it isn't very busy. We pass plenty of teenager-friendly stores, not even glancing through the open glass doors because Becca is desperate to get to a sale at some panty shop.

"Right, right," Allison breathes. "It was run by that couple from Japan. I wonder if it's still around."

I asked Emilie if she wanted to come to the mall with us. She said 'I'm okay, have fun.' I asked if she was sure. She nodded.

"Hey, I'll meet you guys there," I say as we pass a store I remember Emilie shopping at quite a bit. "I'm going to stop in here and see if they have anything Emilie might like."

"Oh, okay," Becca says, turning back. "I'll text you if we end up somewhere else."

The store is called High Tide and features large, blown-up photos of thin girls in swimsuits and beachy clothes. The inside of the store smells like an employee accidentally shattered every bottle of coconut-sunshine-summer-cherry-surf-ocean-mango perfume on the tile floor and left it to dry. Popular music blasts from speakers in the ceiling, and before I can comprehend all the colors on the racks, a college-aged girl pops out of nowhere and says, "Hi, welcome in! Can I help you find anything?"

My mouth opens, my brows furrow, my shoulders perk up and I blurt something like, "Oh, no, I-I'm just looking. Uh-thanks."

I proceed to the corner of the store.

After searching for a bit, I realize that I can't find anything I believe Emilie would wear because she doesn't shop here anymore. Her clothes nowadays consist of t-shirts and comfortable pants like leggings or sweats. I get a little annoyed with myself for thinking that silly things such as fashion or High Tide would matter to her at the moment. She doesn't want some poorly-made crop top with a micro-sized embroidery of a palm tree on it; she wants things that money can't buy.

The longer I stay in the store, the more I realize that I don't know my sister as well as I did before the hospital. So I leave, but not before the same girl appears from thin air yet again. "Thanks for stopping in," she says, causing me to jolt back. "We hope to see you again soon."

I had an eventful time at Camp Hanokawa-Alisha, Becca, Allison, and I all went that summer. I had my first kiss with a boy my age behind the bathhouse on our last day because I knew that I would never see the kid again. He lived in Washington and had braces with blue and gold colors alternating each tooth. They were the colors of his soccer team, I found out. Some things you just never forget. I couldn't recall one quirk about the kiss itself, only the colors I saw in his mouth before covering it with my own.

"How was your weekend?"

I look forward to the crowd of students forming in the hallway, all so consumed by their lives and by the same routine that repeats again and again and again. We wake up for school, come to school, leave school, do homework, cry about our chunky legs or cheating boyfriend, and finally go to bed.

"It was okay," I tell Alisha as we walk together. "Went to the mall, stayed home with Emilie, you know, nothing crazy. What did you do?"

"Oh, you know, spent some time with Javier. We have a few big games coming up, so some girls from the team are meeting up at the community center to practice some more."

"They want to practice even more?"

She shrugs. "Some girls are really depending on volleyball to get a college scholarship. I'll probably go one or two times just so I look like a team player."

I nod and look back to the never-ending hall. It is at this exact moment that Alisha and I-along with everyone else in the building-simultaneously hear the unmistakable shriek of Jen Bridges. Every student halts and stares at one another, waiting for someone to ask-

"What the hell was that?" A random voice calls from somewhere down the hall.

It isn't until lunch, when I sit down at my table of friends, that I hear the news.

"Okay, so what I heard from Cameron was that Jen was talking about Jamie to her friends all 'oh my god he's so cute' and one of her friends-let's be real, probably Valentina-told Sean that she's going to break up with him for Jamie. So Sean went all 'I'm gonna kick his ass' and found Jen talking to Jamie this morning and just punched him in the face. Literally, just straight up punched him. So now Sean is getting suspended for who knows how long," Becca summarizes. "Who knew Sean was such a psycho? You really dodged a bullet there, Allison."

"No kidding," she murmurs. "So is Jen stealing Jamie now? Because I thought we were waiting for Dani to build up the courage to talk to the guy."

"No. We weren't waiting for that," I cut in, "just you were, I think."

"I was waiting for it," Becca says. "I thought it was going to happen during the car ride home from Nick's party, but all she did was give him directions."

"What? You were doubled over ready to barf; how do you remember anything from that night?"

Becca thinks about it for a second or two then takes a bite of the half of Cameron's sandwich that she flirtatiously took while getting information.

"So where's Jamie? In the nurse's office?" Alisha asks.

The cafeteria falls silent. Just on time, creating the perfect dose of dramatic effect, Jamie Price walks into the cafeteria with all eyes on him. He glances at the crowd then walks off but is quickly rounded up by Nick who offers refuge at their table. It isn't until Jamie sits down that the herd returns to private conversations.

"Okay that was the most 'high school' thing I have ever seen, and I saw Gabby trip in the middle of Evergreen Hall sophomore year when she flashed everyone her bare cheeks and revealed that she didn't wear underwear with a skirt," Becca rambles.

"Did you see the side of his face?" I ask the girls. "It already looks bruised. Sean must have really given it his all."

"Such a shame," Allison sighs, "he has such a pretty face."

"Did he not fight back?" Alisha questions.

"Oh, no, he didn't," Becca clarifies. "You know Jamie would never."

"I hope he's okay."

"Aw, Dani, why don't you go ask," Allison nudges me.

I wave her off. "The last thing he probably wants is to be bombarded with questions. I'm sure he just wants to be left alone."

Later in the day, I pass Jamie in the hallway as I walk to my last period class. The flourishing bruise just under his eye makes my stomach twist, and he catches me looking. "Looks more painful than it is," he says. There's no time for me to respond. My lips suddenly part, but he's already past me.

I stand for a second too long, watching him walk away.

Looks more painful than it is.

Over the next week, as Jamie's face changes colors, I can't help but note his increased presence. He's with us at lunch every now and then because of Nick, but I also notice him around school more. Whether it's outside the lockers rooms, in a hallway, by the bathrooms-Jamie Price seems to be everywhere. We smile when we see each other, and he even says, "Hey," one time. Because of these minuscule interactions, I've started gussying up in the morning. Emilie pokes her head into the bathroom as I spot some concealer under my eyes with my finger. Her eyebrow raises.

"Picture day?"

I glance to her, accidentally knocking the can of dry shampoo into the sink. School starts in twenty minutes, and if I don't get out of this bathroom, I'm going to get detention.

Alien sounds leave my throat as my hands frantically clean up. "I'm late, sorry," I breathe to her. "I-I have to go."

"What's with the makeup?" Emilie asks.

She follows me out of the bathroom and down the hall. She stands before me as I step into my shoes and as I grab my bag.

"It's nothing. I don't know why I did it."

"Well, it looks nice."

I smile briefly but it's wiped away by the sound of the garbage truck. I'm always out the door before the garbage truck comes around. "Okay. Bye. I'll see you later," I rush. "Lock the door behind me. Bye."

I alternate between jogging and speed-walking until I'm sprinting up the school steps. Just as the bell rings, I slip into my calculus classroom. I take my seat and try to calm my chest as it dramatically moves up and down. The girl who sits beside me, Prisha, peers over. "Did you run here?" She asks, twirling a sparkly blue gel pen in her fingers.

I nod. "Yeah."

"You should have seen what happened this morning."

"What happened this morning?"

She turns her body toward me. "Well, Jen broke up with Sean out by the football field."

"Sean's back in school?"

Prisha says, "Yup. Today is his first day back. What a warm welcome, right?"

I sit up in my seat. "They always break up. They'll be back together by the end of the day."

"Not this time. She asked Jamie to homecoming. The girl's trying to jump ship."

"Do you know what he said?"

"He said yes," she shrugs. "I mean, it's Jen."

My face falls. I aim myself toward the front of the classroom, now feeling ridiculous in my makeup. It's stupid-we've only spoken to one another a handful of times but suddenly I think I'm entitled to the guy.

"Are you going to homecoming with anyone, Danielle?" Prisha asks, doodling with her glittery ink.

I shake my head. "Oh, no. Probably just with friends."

I'm quiet at lunch. Today Allison is sitting at Nick's table with some jocks. Jamie is with them. I try to ignore the disappointment settled on my chest.

Alisha and Javier are sitting outside together, celebrating their anniversary for the entire day. Alisha told us in our group chat that she packed a special lunch for them-a collection of both their favorite foods. After school they're going rock climbing then heading to the beach. Javier told Becca that he got them a reservation at some fancy restaurant that's always booked solid on the weekends.

Becca and I sit alone at our table. She's tapping away at her phone screen, likely arguing with her mom. A small grumble comes from her, and I sigh. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she waves me off. "It's just my mom. She's trying to convince me to move to Massachusetts."

"Oh. Of course."

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later, I just, I have to-ugh! I have to call her. I'll be right back, Dani."

I watch Becca stomp out of the cafeteria, abandoning her depressing tray of cafeteria food. I sigh and scan the room. Interestingly enough, my eyes catch a figure moving seemingly toward me. Worried I'm wrong, I glance down at my sad baggie of baby carrots. My fingers pick out a carrot, and right when I bite down, someone sits down across from me. I immediately look up.

"Sean? Uh-"

"Danielle, right?" He asks, voice deep but smooth. He must do this often-talk to girls. There isn't even the slightest quiver when he speaks.

I glance at Allison over at Nick's table. She's watching me.

"Um. Yeah, but I go by Dani."

"Right. Right," he nods. Sean rests his arms on the table; his hands are clasped casually. My eyes unknowingly follow the veins in his hands that protrude and run up his forearms. "We've had a few classes together over the years. You sat in the back of every class and read a book or scrolled on your phone. Every guy wanted to talk to you, but I think you intimidated them."

"I don't-"

"The prettiest girls never know."

My cheeks flush. "Uh, sorry to hear about you and Jen," I improvise. It feels like I've never talked to a guy for this long, or at least about such things. I don't think a guy has ever called me pretty. Not like this. Not to my face. Maybe I've gotten it once or twice over text messages, but in person-it's a lot. There's nowhere to hide and think my words over before throwing them out there.

"Forget Jen," Sean says. "Let me take you out. How about after the football game Friday, after we win?"

My chest fills with air. "Oh. Really? Why?"

Sean puts on this little smirk, one so charming and cute that I'm sure Jen has fallen for it many times. I can't lie to myself; an odd feeling sparks within me when I see it.

"There's just something about you, Dani. I'll see you there."

He stands up. I watch him. Sean knocks briefly on the table before turning away, but of course, he glances back at me. I swallow while comprehending how I exactly landed myself a date with the most popular, and the most beloved boy in town.

And I suppose the guy who punches boys like Jamie over girls like Jen.