“Right.” She sighs. Things between us were never good, but they’ve been bad as of late. No matter how drunk I get, I can’t seem to stomach touching a girl who isn’t Cassia, so I haven’t had sex in weeks. I know Grace wants to think we were ever more than that, but we really weren’t. She’s stopped pushing anything physical and tried to be here for me as a friend. The problem is, we never were.

So I’m perpetually disappointing Grace.

Perpetually disappointing a lot of people.

Grace doesn’t make any more attempts to talk to me. She chats with the other girls instead, while I lean back on my palms and stare off into space.

I’m buzzed enough zoning out is peaceful, not boring. I tip my head back and stare up at the stars, trying to trace patterns in the constellations twinkling overhead.

It got completely dark out when I wasn’t paying attention. That’s how all the days have felt lately—like they’re over minutes after I’ve woken up. A constant cycle with no clear start or end.

At first, I think the stars are falling. But then I force my eyes to focus. A snowflake lands on the back of my hand, melting as soon as it touches my skin.

Usually I hate snow. It’s a pain to clean the truck and shovel the steps. Means I can’t play out in the driveway and turns into a mess.

But there’s something peaceful and mesmerizing about watching it fall. The ground isn’t frozen, so it disappears as soon as it touches the earth, dissipating as if it was never there in the first place. Like magic.

A third car arrives at the court, headlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the lazy drift of a few snowflakes before they shut out. I squint at the car, then glance at the court. No one is missing. Maybe they’re kids from Ridgemont?

Two figures reach the edge of the court. Familiar figures.

This time, I sit up. My body is sluggish, my movements slow.

Fuck.

I don’t want her to see me like this. Don’t want either of them to see me like this. Sydney walks over first, with Cassia right behind her.

She crouches down beside me. “Hey,” Sydney says softly.

“Hi.”

Sydney glances between me and the half-empty bottle, her expression tight. Disappointed. “I got worried. You weren’t answering your phone, so I asked Cassia to drive me here.”

I glance at Cassia. She’s standing a few feet away, hands in her pockets, watching the guys play. Studiously not looking at me.

“I left my phone in the car,” I tell Sydney. “Just needed a…minute.”

I’ve been out here for hours, though, and I hate that I worried her. The last thing Sydney needs is to be stressing about me.