What always astonished people who knew both Emmie and me was that, on the surface, we didn't seem like we'd be friends. While she shined in the spotlight, I felt like being roasted under a harsh light. She went after what she wanted without a second of hesitation, and I contemplated things that weren't even relevant before making mundane decisions.

Regardless of our differences, our hearts beat along the same wavelength, and it meant knowing we could confront each other about whatever we wanted.

She was sitting on top of the monkey bars that circled into one giant loop when I found her at her usual spot. I'd lucked out because it was the first place I'd checked, knowing that she would be just about anywhere but her own house. With her feet dangling into the giant open space in the middle, her back faced the street before her attention shifted toward me.

"It's astronomically embarrassing how much of a struggle it is to climb up here now," I huffed as I struggled to pull myself up next to her.

She eyed me with uncertainty, but it transformed into relief because we were two waves destined to keep crashing into each other. Being here meant that I cared, and that counted for something.

"You do need to start working out again," Emmie laughed as I finally made it next to her.

"Again?" I scoffed. "That would mean I ever started, but calling one walk a start would be generous."

Emmie shot me a look. "I think that's the very definition of a start."

"I think that would be me using one walk as an excuse to pat myself on the back," I argued.

"And I think your denial is an excuse to not allow yourself the satisfaction because you never think you're good enough for it."

The two of us looked at each other with such unwavering admiration that we always seemed to outdo each other around every corner. Subtlety was never a word in our vocabulary when it came to our friendship, so I stopped beating around the bush.

"Zach called me. He sounded upset."

Emmie looked down at her hands, fingers twisting into a knot. At least we weren't going to have to work around denial with this part of the conversation.

"What is it about Jarrod that keeps you running back?" I asked earnestly. It wasn't like I wanted to pretend I held some moral high ground above her; I genuinely couldn't understand why someone as fiercely independent as her could be hung up over a guy I couldn't even stand to be around, and I considered myself someone that, despite not being the most social myself, couldn't handle most personality types. Maybe her last relationship went deeper than I realized and I was just passing judgment on something I didn't even understand. "You barely blinked when you broke up with him, and now you two keep coming back to each other like you never ended."

She struggled to find her grip in the conversation, which was surprising because Emmie could hold her own in just about any conversation imaginable, but it illuminated the seriousness of Jarrod's effect on her, as well as the ignorance on my part on how it had affected her.

"I don't know," she admitted. "You're supposedly crazy for going back to the same thing and expecting a different outcome, right?"

"People are a little different, but the habits tied to them are probably what makes it hard," I offered her. "I don't know why this is the one that keeps pulling you back, though."

It was at times like this that I felt like a jerk. How could someone who could count the relationships she'd been in on one hand offer any advice about relationships? Yet I still did. And when Emmie looked at me like she was ashamed of herself for following her heart, I felt like a jerk for that too.

"I can't explain it."

"Try," I insisted. "Because it's not fair to string Zach along when you may or may not still be hung up about your ex-boyfriend."

Maybe I wasn't wrong with what I'd said, but how you said the thing was what influenced the way someone reacted to it, and something about that last sentence sent Emmie into rockier territory. It was easy to look at somebody who was the complete opposite of you and think that meant you were bound for a collision, but sometimes it was those people who were so alike in the worst ways that made for the deadliest of friendly fire.

Emmie shook her head and scoffed. "You think if I knew the answer, I wouldn't have told you by now? I don't know, Alex. Some things just can't be explained."

It felt like trying to take the easy way out and the fact that I was being brought into it made me a little irritable. Not that it was entirely her fault since I enjoyed Zachariah's company and willingly became friends with him, but she was still part of the equation. Without Emmie, I wouldn't even be friends with him in the first place, and then I wouldn't feel like I had to play devil's advocate for both of them at the same time.

It was also a little frustrating because this was the same train of thought she'd utilized in other relationships before, and I was getting tired of hearing the same song over and over again. If Emmie wanted this one to be different, she had to stop reacting the same ways she'd always done before.

"You act like you don't have control over your actions, Em. Tell us that you're not completely over Jarrod, fine, but don't lie to Zach about where you've been because that's a shitty thing to do."

The fire in her eyes blazed with the heat of a thousand suns, but I stood firm because I believed there had to be more logic in how we carried ourselves, even through complicated feelings.

"You make everything sound so simple," she dismissed, jumping down from the monkey bars and leaving me to fumble around after her. "But it isn't, Alex, and I'd appreciate you getting off your fucking high horse all the time."

Before she could walk off the playground, I jumped down to follow her. It took a few seconds for me to catch up with her.

She could barely look at me, but I leaned in anyway. "Since when was this about me?"

Emmie threw her arms up. "I don't know, Alex. When is anything ever not about you?"

I took a step back, confused. "You're the one making this about me. I'm trying to get you to understand how this back-and-forth with Jarrod is completely unfair to Zach."

"I'm not cheating on him if that's what you're assuming."

"Emotional cheating is a thing," I pointed out. Not that I was entirely sure that's what was happening. And even if I thought that, it wasn't up to me to decide. Those kinds of barriers could be hard to define since they depended on the parties involved. I wasn't about to accuse Emmie of something unless Zachariah claimed it first.

Emmie rolled her eyes, because being alerted to something she might be doing sometimes went beyond what she was willing to take accountability for. Or maybe I was just being a dick and not listening to her. I wasn't sure if I could comfortably say whether or not I came here looking for a fight or not.

"If you can't explain what's happening between you and Jarrod right now and you can't tell Zach what's going on, does it honestly sound like it's not a big deal? How would you feel if this was happening to you?"

As the words came out of my mouth, I was aware of how right she was. There was an undeniable sense of superiority in the way I scolded her like some child that needed my guidance, but it was hard to know the difference between wearing a big sister hat and a best friend hat. While the latter often carried a more sympathetic approach, the former poured hydrogen peroxide over the wound—you knew in the end that it would help the wound heal, but it didn't stop it from hurting along the way.

I took a step forward, but Emmie stepped back so I stopped.

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I'm just pointing out how this could feel on the other end. It doesn't matter if you think you have good intentions or if you think you're not doing something wrong. The fact is, giving your ex-boyfriend this much priority in your life instead of the guy you're dating is confusing for everyone involved—most of all, yourself."

Something shifted in Emmie's eyes that told me she was listening. But as smart of a woman as she was, she was also stubborn and led with her heart. I knew this wasn't going in the direction I hoped it would and my shoulders slunk in defeat at the realization. The trip proved worthless in the end.

"I'll make sure Zach doesn't bother you about us anymore."

"That wasn't—" I began to say, but she had already turned around and started walking away again. This time, I didn't follow her.