"I absolutely cannot believe I came here," a redhead said as she stumbled out of the house with her friend following closely behind her as if trying not to lose her. She took a sip of the drink in the red cup in her hand, unable to stop laughing for some reason.

"I know, right?" her friend replied as they stopped a few feet away from the back door. "I mean, who throws a party after their so-called best friend is murdered?" She looked around the redhead so she could see the door. "And who looks that happy?"

The redhead took a step closer to her friend and lowered her voice as she said, "I know I'm not supposed to say this, but I think Libby and Milan know something they're not saying."

Next to me, West shifted so he was facing them, but he was quiet about it.

"Oh, come on, Autumn. Don't tell me you're believing that, too. Milan isn't even here, and, lately, I don't think she and Libby talk."

"Whatever," Autumn said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and giving her drink to her friend. "Hold this for me. Don't you think it's weird that Libby Cornwell of all people would throw a small party? The music isn't even loud. I mean, does it sound like a party in there?"

"Then you shouldn't have come," West mumbled beside me, and I threw him a look that told him to be quiet.

Autumn's face was lit up by her phone moments later, and she let out an ugh. "God, why doesn't this guy take a hint?" She showed her phone to her friend, who immediately looked into the screen like it was a pot of gold. Her face literally glowed with gold light.

I could see their hungry eyes, and I could hear the disappointment in their voices. These girls loved gossip, and I'd bet that was the only reason they were here.

Her friend laughed. "Just give him a chance, Autumn. He's cute."

"Excuse me, do you realize who we're talking about here? Please." She rolled her eyes, smiling instantly like something of great worth just occurred to her. "Speaking of cute people, Dion's totally single right now. I heard him and Milan arguing in the girl's bathroom earlier today over that Piper thing from Smooches."

It felt like my heart came out of my chest and immediately went back in when I heard the last part.

That Piper thing from Smooches.

Those five words rang in ny ears over and over and over, and the next sentences the girls said flew past me.

I felt a hand on mine, and I looked up to see West staring at me. "You okay?"

I nodded without thinking. "Yeah. I'm fine," I whispered, too aware of his skin against mine. His hand was warm and inviting, and I strangely wanted to hold it.

"You look a little pale. Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I repeated. "I'm sure."

He nodded in understanding. "Just let me know if you need to leave, okay?"

"Okay."

I was glad he was attentive, but I didn't think I was going to have another panic attack. I was feeling the exact same way I did in the library the first time it happened, but now that I knew what it was, I told myself I was going to be fine.

We turned back to the girls, who had now moved further away from us and were standing next to the fence separating Libby's house from her neighbor's.

"They're definitely never getting back together, and, honestly, I wish I could feel bad."

They both laughed, then Autumn looked back towards the door. "We should probably go back in before some witches find us."

If they were trying to be quiet about their conversation, then they were doing a really terrible job at it.

"Yeah," her friend replied. "I need a drink anyway."

They returned to the house quietly, and I heard them squeal in delight immediately the door shut behind them. It was like they saw a friend.

West sighed, leaning back again. "Well, that was a waste."

I chuckled, relaxing, my shoulders feeling ten times lighter. We didn't have anything to say to each other anymore, so we just sat in silence for a long time.

During that time, the party grew wilder, the volume of the music increasing to the extent that the ground vibrated as a result, and the evening grew darker, the sky filling with stars. Noise came from the house as teenagers fought to have their voices heard over the loud music, and when I peeked into the kitchen again, I saw that the house was filled with people and some of them had moved into the kitchen.

The air smelled of beer, and my nose crinkled as I wondered if the smell stuck to clothes. I didn't want my dad thinking I'd been out partying.

Just as I was about to sit back down, I saw Libby walk in, and my attention was fully captured. Her face glowed with makeup, and her hair looked like she had run her hand through it a lot of times. She wore a simple blue dress that looked more casual than what I was used to seeing on her.

She looked at the people in the kitchen with a tired smile, then combed a hand through her hair, confirming my suspicion, and said something. I didn't hear it, but whatever it was had everyone vacating the kitchen.

Libby waited until they were all gone before turning to the back door and approaching it.

"Hey," West whispered, pulling my hand so I would sit. When I did, he gestured to our right. "Look who's coming."

I was completely unprepared for what happened next.

The back door opened and closed quickly just as I saw my physics teacher hurriedly walk past the bush we were hiding behind. His hair was tousled, and his shirt looked a little rumpled, like he just pulled it out of somewhere and rushed here without thinking. I had never seen Mr. Joey look like this.

Immediately he stopped in front of Libby, West got the camera ready, adjusting the settings so it didn't produce a flash when he took a picture.

"Why did you come here, Joey?" Libby asked him, her eyes narrowed into a glare I never thought a person could give their teacher. "Why today?"

"I wanted to talk to you, and I knew you wouldn't ignore me today."

Libby's eyes lit up with strange amusement, and she folded her arms over her chest and took a step closer to him. "Wow," she said coolly. "When did you start monitoring my social activities? I thought you were ignoring me."

"Libby, please," Mr. Joey begged, sounding like he didn't hear any of what she just said. "I can't continue to do this. I absolutely can't."

She released a quiet laugh, then smoothed her hands down the collar of his shirt, brushing off invisible dirt. Mr. Joey took a step away from her at the gesture, looking like he was going to throw up. "Oh, you have to, Mr. Joey," Libby told him with a firm voice. "We made a deal."

"I'm breaking off that deal, Elizabeth—"

"Libby," she corrected through gritted teeth, and the amount of confidence and dominance in her voice shocked me. It made the whole situation look like she was older. "And you can't do that. We made the deal—I pay you, and you help me at school. You agreed to it, so what the heck are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Libby, that I have a family. I have a wife and a son, and they look up to me. I can't continue to spend money given to me by you—an eighteen-year-old."

"Where did all this virtue go?" Libby paused when she realized that the pitch of her voice had risen, then continued in a lower (but still angry) voice, "Tell me, Joey. Where did all your virtue run off to when I offered this to you? Then, you didn't remember that I was eighteen, did you?"

Mr. Joey's face twisted until his expression was that of severe pain. "You know I needed the money."

"Oh, boo-hoo," she mocked, anger radiating off her. "And what? You don't need it anymore?"

"I do, but I'll handle it. I was so stupid for agreeing to do this in the first place, and I'm trying to make things right. Keep your money, I don't want it anymore."

Libby stared at him for a long time, then closed the distance between them, invading his personal space. Mr. Joey looked uncomfortable, but he didn't say a word or step away like he did earlier. "You're going to continue helping me," she ordered, "and I'm going to continue paying you until I graduate."

"For God's sake, I'm not doing that!" Mr. Joey was clearly getting worked up, but Libby wasn't backing down.

"I didn't force you to agree, but I'll make sure you continue. Do it, or I'll go to your house and tell your wife that you've been forcing me to sleep with you for grades." Mr. Joey froze at the threat, a look of pure terror going to settle on his face. "And trust me, I'll make sure she believes me."

She let her words settle for a while, then smiled and fixed the top button of his shirt like a good housewife.

"Thanks for stopping by, Joey. See you on Monday. Now leave before someone sees you."

When Libby returned to the party, everywhere was silent. Mr. Joey stood where he was, looking like he wanted to cry, then, after a while, he left, leaving West and I alone in the Cornwells' backyard.

A few seconds passed after my physics teacher disappeared before West released a breath. "Ready to leave? I think that's enough for one night."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"I didn't know he was coming here tonight, but yeah. I knew."

West's abilities were impressing me more and more, I admitted, because I didn't see this coming. I never knew Libby's dirty secret would involve my physics teacher—the same physics teacher I saw everyday, and the same physics teacher that wanted me to join a life-changing contest—and I never knew it would have me so shaken.

"Come on," West whispered, slipping my camera into his pocket and quietly moving away from the bush.

As I followed him, staying low to avoid being seen, I realized that I didn't feel guilty at all.

I was almost done getting ready for work on Saturday, events from the previous day playing around in my head, when a knock sounded on my door. My hairbrush froze in the air as I turned to it.

"Are you decent?"

I smiled to myself, turning back to the mirror in front of me. "No," I said sarcastically, and almost immediately, the door opened and my dad walked in.

He had a habit of asking if I was dressed before walking into my room. I always told him I wasn't, and he always knew I was joking.

In the mirror, I saw him lingering by the door, like he was scared of stepping any further into the room. He looked around, studying the room, and I turned to face him, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Looking for something?"

He met my eyes, his lips lifting into that tired smile of his. "No. I just checked my email, and the one sent on Wednesday was from one of your teachers."

Panic immediately seized my chest, and I warned myself to relax.

"He said you weren't in class on Wednesday. Why is that?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and thought about how to tell him about the panic attack. It wasn't easy, because I saw how defeated he always looked when Kairi would become so anxious. I didn't want to put him through that again, and I didn't want him to think he wasn't taking care of us enough.

"Um," I started, brushing a few strands of hair from my face with my index finger, "I was feeling a little sick, so I thought I'd have some time to myself."

My dad's eyebrows rose, and he made his way to me. He was in a lazy Saturday outfit—sweatpants and a T-shirt—and it suited him better than dress pants and a tie. "Why didn't you tell me? Do you feel all right now?" he asked, taking his seat on my bed.

"Yeah. I just didn't want to bother you."

He studied me for a while, then asked, "Do you want your mom to haunt my dreams, Kim?"

I knew he meant it as a joke, but my breath was immediately taken away from me, and an ache spread across my chest. He must've sensed my mood, because the small smile he had on his face slowly died.

"You could never bother me, sweetheart. I'm here for you. Always."

I forced a smile onto my face, then turned to my mirror to continue brushing my hair. I heard him move, and in a few seconds, he was crouching beside me. Refusing to look at him to prevent myself from crying, I focused all my attention on my reflection.

"I know things are hard," he said, his voice low, a sign that he was trying to hold himself together, "but I'm always here. I'm here for you and Kairi, and you can tell me anything."

I nodded, putting the brush away. "I know, Dad. I know."

He gave me a fond smile, then playfully pulled on my cheek, producing a laugh from me. The laugh lasted for only a moment before that weight settled on my chest again, and before I could think about it, I was hugging my dad.

I held him for a few minutes, then said, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Kimie." That time, he pronounced my name like my mom used to—in the real Japanese way. "I promised Kairi I'd drive her to therapy today. She's been eager to go lately, and I think she's improving."

I pulled away from him, nodding again. "Yeah. She seems better lately."

"Well, I guess that shows I'm not a bad father—the kind that takes two days to reply to important emails," he said, standing, and I laughed.

"You're doing great, Otosan."

His eyes glinted with excitement, and he pointed his index finger in my direction. "Impressive."

I laughed again. "Drive safe, okay?"

"I will. You too."

I waited until he was out of my room before looking back at my reflection, taking in my appearance one last time. I still wasn't fully at peace, though, and I racked my brain because of it—to remember what I was forgetting.

It wasn't until I had gotten into my car and placed my bag on the passenger seat that the reminder came at me with full force.

A whoosh of air escaped my lips, and I leaned my head back into the headrest, my stomach turning over. "Tybalt."