"Can you imagine having such bomb sex with someone that they write a song about you called Sex on Fire? I wish I had a musician to fool around with."

"Musicians are overrated." I exhale a final puff of smoke out of the window, watching as the gray swirls race past my nostrils and dissipate into streams of warm autumn breeze. "And I don't think that song is what you think it's about."

This bad habit I've acquired since knowing him lingers like a scar amongst the other memories I've spent the past couple of years trying to forget, and tonight grips hold of me too firmly to allow such wishes to become reality.

Katerina's apartment provides a calm backdrop to my inner turmoil over attending the party tonight. With the sun hanging low in the sky, bathing Hawai'i Kai in the warmest hue of orange, the two of us listen as Cardiac Arrest by Bad Suns plays in the background while we get ready. It took some convincing on her part to get me to agree, but there are only so many times Katerina can flash me her doe-eyed smile before I cave. She's a difficult woman to refuse.

Quite frankly, the last thing I want to do is attend this party. Not because I don't want to support my friend—Calum is the only reason I'm going—but a party is about the least appealing pain I can think of, and the fact that it's in a town I consider his makes it less so.

Her slender frame juts out into the opening of her small bathroom door as she huffs, regarding me with frustration. "Alex, don't hate on my kinky musician fantasies just because your tryst never worked out. Dreaming of being an artist's muse is a rite of passage."

I tiptoe around the piles of rejected clothes like I'm navigating a minefield, easing my way into the bathroom in which Katerina is putting on her makeup. While she delicately balances a pair of false lashes between tweezers in one hand, she uses the other to spritz Miss Dior perfume along her chest. I perch myself on the lid of the toilet seat and the chill of the smooth surface nips at my skin in her near glacial air-conditioned apartment.

"We don't speak of him anymore," I warn, "remember?"

A foggy glance ricochets back through the reflection in the mirror, her features dripping with concern. "Sorry, but it's kind of inevitable, right? We are going to a party at his best friend's house."

"No," I interrupt with more snark than I mean to. "They're friends but they were never best friends. And Calum is my friend, too. I can hang out with him without Zach being part of the equation."

The only person Zachariah has ever called his best friend is me, and we both know how that ended.

"I know and you're right, but that doesn't mean his name won't come up."

Although I understand Katerina is simply doing her best to prepare me for an unwanted but possible outcome, it's hard not to let the irritation prickle at my resolve. Some truths never want to be heard, even if they need to be felt.

"He's not even here anymore," I add, trying to reason more with myself than her.

"Just consider the possibility. It's better to mentally prepare than be taken by surprise."

I rest my chin against my palm and squeeze my eyes shut. "Kat, I just want to have a good night and he's the last thing I need to think about."

Katerina opens her mouth in anticipation of giving me the proverbial nudge I can benefit from, but she shuts it after a second thought. One of her greatest gifts as a friend is knowing when to charge and when to retreat. Tonight is not the time for fighting words about unresolved feelings.

"If you don't want to go tonight, I'm down for ordering pizza and raiding the entire Ben & Jerry's section of Foodland. Just say the word."

I flick her a stale laugh. "After you spent how long convincing me?"

"My desire to party takes second place to your needs as my friend," she replies without hesitation. "As I said, just say the word."

I can see through Katerina's words and know that although she speaks the truth, she's secretly hoping I reject her offer because she enjoys a party more than anyone else I know, but she's also a good enough friend to not be disappointed if I take her up on it. As tempting as it is, it ultimately serves no purpose besides pushing the inevitable to another day. And besides, there's nothing to worry about. He won't be there.

It surprises me Katerina hasn't brought up Emmie, though, since we both know she's back on island as of a couple of weeks ago, but I don't push it. Both Emmie and Zachariah sit firmly on my do-not-discuss list.

"No, that's okay. Cal would never forgive me if I bailed and I already put on a bra and shaved my legs, so I'm legally obligated to leave the house now."

"Good. I'm proud of you." She glances down at my pajamas. "Can you wear something other than black, though? You're not in mourning."

Ignoring her request, I head back outside so I can change into my usual party attire, all while making a mental note to raid her cabinets for the not-so-hidden stash of Patron. Some liquid courage will come in handy for tonight.

While scrolling through my feed and knocking back a shot of tequila, I pull up Calum's stories. Even though it's only six p.m., he's already posted multiple videos of partygoers arriving at his new house and playing games, including what appears to be a game of beer pong. I scan through each video in search of a certain red-lipped vixen, but she's nowhere to be seen, so the hope of not having any awkward run-in tonight inflates my chest with relief.

When Katerina emerges from the bathroom twenty minutes later looking every bit like a goddess, I feel like a toad sitting hunched over her counter.

Her eyes narrow at the empty shot glass. "Did you take one without me? You bitch."

Using the back of my knuckles, I slide the other glass waiting for her in her direction. "Two, actually. Catch up."

...

There's nothing like a cool breeze to dispel the humid Hawaiian heat that leaves a thin sheen of moisture clinging along my skin. With the rideshare minutes from arriving at Calum's house, the wind coasts along my arm and bounces up to my face, blowing my curly hair around me like I'm in the middle of a wind tunnel.

"Not the most ideal time to bring this up, but I heard Emmie's back in town," Katerina says as she clicks her phone screen to black and tucks her tinted lip balm into her purse. "I didn't want to pile her onto the equation earlier, but she might show up."

I glance out the window and see my reflection flash back at me as we pass under the street lights. "I heard she was back a couple of weeks ago. Honestly a little surprised her return hasn't made more waves."

It's not like she hasn't gone unnoticed. Emmie is a prominent figure in a lot of familiar friend groups thanks to her popularity in high school, and O'ahu is the kind of island that thrives on cheap talk.

Maybe that's why there's always been confusion about how Emmie and I were such close friends. Emmie is someone that commands attention even when she's not searching for it. As different as we are in that regard, it baffles minds that we used to be best friends, though the term rings so trivial compared to what we were. She was the best friend I've ever had and a piece of my heart will always live with hers. As nonexistent as our future seems, our past cannot be redefined, and we are forever molded together by the growth with which we've enhanced each other's lives.

"It won't be fun either way," Katerina says, "but I think she might be easier to deal with if she does show up."

I nod in agreement. "She'd definitely be less painful."

Katerina, sensing my growing discomfort despite my calm and steady words, changes course. "Not that we're likely to split up tonight but just to reiterate what we already know, if at any point you need to leave, just shoot me the code word. And if a guy touches you without your consent, send me the other code word and I'll help you bury the body."

My eyes crinkle with laughter. "I know the code word for wanting to leave is pineapple but what's the code word for burying a body?"

Katerina guides a finger under her chin, pretending to mull it over. "Douche alert? Mission: Cover-up?"

"Those are not very covert."

"Semantics," she dismisses with a flick of her wrist.

Kaimuki smells of sugar and cinnamon-covered malasadas hot and fresh out of the box, cigarette smoke billowing through the air, and a spritz of cologne with musky notes that bring butterflies to my stomach.

Except these aren't scents of Kaimuki—they're my memories of him.

The car peels away from the curbside and we stare up at the unfamiliar house. A muffled pulsing baseline reaches out to us, and each time the front door opens from a partygoer's arrival or departure, the sound grows louder. A collection of shoes outside the front door builds as we add ours to the pile, discarding our footwear quickly before entering the house which, if my knotty stomach is of any indication, feels like a gateway to hell.

I've never been the biggest fan of parties because it requires me to socialize with people with whom I would never bother otherwise. A fact that is ironic considering most of the people I surround myself with thoroughly enjoy them.

An example is the guy descending the staircase at this moment.

Calum Hill is the kind of person everyone is friends with no matter what social circles they run in. and the sheer amount of people here right now is a testament to his social standing.

"Alex!" Calum yells when he registers my appearance. I don't have time to react before I'm lifted into the air by a lung-crushing hug. "You made it!"

"I told you I'd come." It's not a ringing endorsement since I'm known for flaking on friends in favor of staying home with Netflix and a tub of ice cream. "Hope you don't mind I brought Kat."

"Never. Good to see you again."

"You, too," she replies with a smile.

"It's been a while but you weren't there during the vomit incident, right?"

Katerina quickly shakes her head with relief. "Thankfully I wasn't, but I've heard the stories."

I shoot them both daggers with my eyes. "Never because of me. Everyone else is too eager to repeatedly bring it up even after I've begged you all  to move on."

"There are just some things we cannot move on from, Alex. That introduction will forever be one of them."

Calum spins around and wedges himself between the two of us, slinging his arms around our shoulders. He pulls us through the crowded house until we arrive at the kitchen, a universal hub for refreshment at every party. Using his host knowledge, he rattles off a quick summary of the available vices before running through a highlight reel of the party's eventful moments so far. It doesn't surprise me his party has already racked up a few of them.

"I can't believe you live here," I remark, spinning around with a drink in hand. Coming from someone like me whose apartment feels like a cave I crawl into when I'm tired of dealing with the rest of the world, and this happens often, he's already somehow turned this house into a welcoming home in a matter of days. "Who knew you'd settle down in Kaimuki? It's so close to your old school, I thought you'd be afraid of the nightmares."

He rolls his eyes and refills our cups with something dark and strong, the aroma of which hits my nostrils like a freight train. "Not everyone hated their high school experience."

"Yeah, only normal people." I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you saying you'd go back for a day if you had to?"

"Absolutely not," he laughs. "I'd rather chop my balls off." Calum leans back against the counter, taking a swig of his beer. He glances around at the house, impressed and proud of himself. "And to be clear, there's no settling down. I'm just renting."

"Still." I take another sip. "It's a nice house. How much of your paycheck is it eating up?"

"Too much."

"Remind me why you didn't hang out with us that much before," Calum directs at Katerina.

"Because she's better than the rest of us," I interject, continuing to glance around the room as more strangers pile in to fill up on their spiked juice and newly-added jello shots. "And I didn't need you hitting on my friend while we were sleeping together."

Calum shrugs his shoulders as if to say true, that might have complicated things more than they already were.

There's a loud noise off in some other part of the house, followed shortly by a crashing sound that causes all of us to flinch, especially  Calum. He knocks the rest of his drink back before dropping the empty bottle onto the counter and swiping at his mouth.

"Let me take care of that and make some rounds but find me in a bit and I can show you the rest of the house, okay?" He directs the question at both of us but sends me a pointed look that I ignore since I'm operating under the pretense I'm capable of enjoying this party.

As soon as he disappears, he takes any sense of relaxation away with him, and I'm left to emotionally lean on Katerina for support.

The air outside is significantly less stifling than inside. Placing some distance between myself and the rest of the crowd gives me the chance to breathe and think, though I'm not sure the latter is most ideal at this time since all I can think about is how much I hate being back in Kaimuki.

Katerina nudges her elbow into my side before pulling me along to our designated spot. While we nurse our drinks for as long as we can to avoid having to go back into the house, we chat about work. A few people come over at some point to smoke and we socialize with them, but it's clear my heart isn't in it. The entire conversation goes in one ear and out the other.

"See, it's not so bad," Katerina remarks, taking another sip of her drink.

Glancing around the backyard, I'm assaulted with flashes of bodies going a hundred miles per hour. The pulsing music blaring loudly enough that it's like I'm sitting right beside a speaker somehow does little to drown out the endless streams of conversations.

"Nothing beats a night in bed with Mr. Ben and Jerry, though." I look at her with the faintest resemblance of a smile and almost regret not staying home. "They're truly the only men that deserve rights."

She sighs, eyes gazing off longingly in the distance. "No other men satisfy quite like them."

"You know," I tank the last of my drink and place the empty cup onto the grass, "I don't think I've ever imagined what my life would be like in, say, twenty years. Have you?"

"What do you mean?" Katerina asks, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "In what way?"

I kick my foot out at rocks nestled in the grass. "A career, a relationship, anything. I genuinely can't see a thing. It's just an empty wall of nothing."

"Not everyone has everything figured out," Katerina replies. She scoots closer as the breeze begins to pick up. "You can't gauge your success based on what everyone else is doing. There's no right or wrong way to go through life."

"True," I concede with a nod, "but even on its own merits, my life is completely....boring. I have a roommate I barely talk to, one friend who I regularly see, and a whole lot of baggage that keeps me from changing those things." Casting aside a glance, I ignore the frown on her face. "Boring."

"What exactly is in your rubric for a fulfilling life?"

"Does it matter? I think I fail on all fronts."

She opens her mouth to respond when the back door slams shut, and the noise drags my eyes over to where two figures emerge from the house.

I hear them before I see them.

How can I sum up my relationship with Emmie Coleman? It's impossible, yet my brain does this thing where it goes into overdrive and tries to flash through years of memories with one person. But what it fails to realize is that the convergence of my life with Emmie's is too complex to sum up in seconds, so all it does is mix confusion with intoxication, leading to a pounding headache.

Her hair is shorter, just barely grazing the top of her neck. Her lips are painted in a signature bright red lipstick that attracts attention like a spotlight shining just on her. It's the same shade of red that used to speckle Zachariah's cheeks back when they were dating. I remember when I wished I could pull off that color, too.

"Did you see him?" Heather scoffs. She looks more polished than before, with sleek lines and muted neutral colors. It's a stark contrast to her style from the last time I saw her. "Who knew he'd show his face around here tonight. Didn't Calum tell him you were invited?"

Heather has a shrill voice that pierces the air around her. It's not an observation I make out of spite, as it's one of the first things I noticed about her when we first met but reminding myself of this feels petty.

Emmie laughs nervously and gives her friend a transparently polite smile. Her body language reads as if she's not having fun but is too nice to say so.

"Whatever." Emmie brushes some of the longer strands of hair behind her ear. " I'm here for Calum. That's it."

"Did you know he was going to be here?"

"Good chance I wouldn't have shown up if I did."

"We need to leave," I whisper harshly into Katerina's ear, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket.

She's quick to agree and checks if the coast is clear. The other two are deep in conversation when we rise from our spot and sneak around.

It's all going a little too well that I'm not surprised when Katerina clears her throat to let someone know they're about to step back into us, but the unsuspecting speed bump fumbles onto the grass right, drawing Emmie and Heather's attention.
It's not her fault, but I want to strangle my friend.

I don't know how long we stare at each other before they make their way over. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to be anywhere else but here, but I remain cemented in my spot, wishing more than anything that I could morph myself into the grass beneath me. The reassuring and apologetic words Katerina tries to whisper in my ear fall short of processing, as all I can focus on are the two women walking toward us. Seeing her in front of me once again feels like a wave coming back to shore, except this time it's a tsunami and I haven't had a chance to breathe before I'm being pulled under.

"Hey, Alex," Emmie says before she's caught off guard by the feisty girl next to her, one that puts all of us to shame with how little fucks she gives about social cues.

"Hey," I begin to say, unsure of what words are going to follow, when I'm interrupted.

"If it isn't the boyfriend stealer. You're looking a little parched. Here, let me give you a drink."

I sense what's coming before it hits me. The alcohol burns my eyes but not as much as the embarrassment of what's happening. I feel the stares of everyone in the backyard fixated on me, and my resolve drips away with the vodka seeping into the soles of my shoes. My hands ball into fists, nails digging in so hard I know it's going to leave a mark.

You did this to yourself, I tell myself.

It's easier to accept than to let my anger out on the girl who threw her drink at me. She's misguided and unaware of many elements of what transpired between all of us, but she's also just trying to be a good friend, even if her approach leaves me soaked in sticky alcohol.

Emmie looks like she's fighting to find the words to say but nothing comes out. I don't know if I'm thankful for that at this point, but they're far from the only guests at this party tonight that leaves me equally as speechless, and movement behind her catches my eye.

The one person I don't want here. The person that shouldn't be here because he's supposed to be on the Big Island. He's standing there, wide-eyed and open-mouthed at seeing what happened.

I swipe at my mouth while using my other hand to brush the drink-sodden strands of hair out of my face, wordless, before charging through the back door so I can get away from this mess of a place. Zachariah tries to touch me, reaching out and grasping my wrist in his hand. His touch sets my skin ablaze and I react quickly to pull away from him and extinguish the heat.

It's not until I'm back in the front yard and far away from all of them that I allow myself to breathe again. With each rise of my chest, a fresh set of tears fall freely down my face.

Katerina's hands quickly find my back after she emerges from the wreckage. They rub and console me in ways I don't deserve, but I accept it because it's all I have left to hold me up.

"Shh," she whispers, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me further away from the house. "Come on. I got you."