The first thing I notice when I wake up is Lucas's baseball cap on my bedside table. The second is the tall glass of water right next to it. I reach for it, desperately needing to alleviate my parched throat.

I feel hot, which must be an after-effect of the tequila I had last night. I rub my temples, attempting to stop my head from spinning. All I see is Lucas, as if the evidence he left behind in my room isn't enough. I remember him laughing with me as I try to do my best Bernie impersonation. I envision him grabbing my hand, twirling me around as we dance. I recall him lifting me up in the air as someone snaps a photo of us.

Jesus, did that happen?

I pick up my phone. Along a string of notifications, I see that I've been tagged in photos. I tap on them and stare at the pictures for what seems like hours, but there's one in particular I keep going back to. Lucas is lifting me up with one arm wrapped around me, smiling like he's just won gold at the Olympics. I've never looked so happy.

I feel like a crazy person staring at the same picture with a grin plastered on my face. I can't resist, and I end up saving the picture to my phone.

Okay, Claudia, get it together.

I head to the shower and smile the entire time. I haven't felt like this in ages, like a little girl who has no worries in the world, excited about the day to come. Even when I look in the mirror, bright hazel eyes are staring back at me despite the major hangover I have. I notice they're watery too, probably because I stayed up late.

I wonder if he's going to call me. He insisted he would, but things that seem like a great idea when you're drinking usually don't turn out that way the next morning. I'm so conflicted. I want him to call me, but at the same time I don't. If we were to leave things how we did last night and not see each other again for three more years, I would be able to live with that. We're at a good place now. I just know if I see him again, things are only going to get more complicated.

I leave my room and head to the kitchen, but I stop when I hear my parents yelling at each other. They've been fighting constantly since I've been home. It's usually that way, but this time it seems much worse. I don't understand them. I never have. They should have divorced years ago, but they didn't. All my dad ever did was move out to a hotel when I was fifteen, but he came straight back after a month.

Lucas's parents got a divorce. I know it was hard on him, but in a way, I envied him. I always thought his situation was better than mine. His mom kicked his dad out of the house and never looked back. She was a smart woman. She, like my dad, never deserved what happened, but at least she had more balls than he ever did.

My dad starts yelling in Japanese, and that's when I can tell things are extra bad. My mom never bothered to learn it, but I can understand exactly what he's saying and it's not good. I retreat to my room and lock the door behind me. Every time I come home, I'm forced to relive my high school years all over again. I truly believed they'd been waiting for me to move out to finally separate, but it's been three years and they still haven't done it. Sometimes I wish they would for all our sakes. We stopped being a family a long time ago. I simply don't understand why they keep up with the pretenses.

I sigh and lie down back in bed. There's no way I'm entering that kitchen. I don't think I could eat right now anyway. Even as I think about it, it's nauseating. I should just take a nap. I grab Lucas's cap and place it loosely over my head to shield my eyes from the morning light. Hopefully it'll be over by the time I wake up again.

❄️

Hey, Audi. You up?

I've been staring at the message I received from an unknown number for the last five minutes. The ping that interrupted my nap irritated me at first, but the text makes me a lot happier than it should. I've been wondering who Lucas got my number from. Probably Karen, but I'm surprised she didn't tell me. I save his number as a new contact before I write back.

Me: Yeah. You?

I belatedly realize what a stupid question that was, but I can't do much since I already sent it.

Lucas: No. I'm sending this message from an alternate universe where people can text in their dreams.

I laugh at his response. Before I can think of something witty to say, I get another text from him.

Lucas: I'm picking you up. Be ready in ten minutes.

Me: That's very presumptuous of you. What if I already have plans?

Lucas: You don't. You told me so last night.

Okay, clearly I don't remember a few things from last night. Maybe a lot of things. God, I hope I didn't say anything too embarrassing. Or revealing.

Lucas: You don't remember, do you?

Me: Sorry, no.

Lucas: We're not done talking yet. That's all you need to know.

Dammit, what have I gotten myself into? I pray that I didn't confess my undying love or something stupid like that.

Me: Don't come to my house. I'll meet you somewhere else.

Lucas: Go to our spot. You have five minutes now, Audi.

Wow, I can't believe he remembers our old meeting point. I grab my coat and quietly make my way towards the front door. My stomach cramps as I move, but I push it aside as I focus on getting the hell out of here. I tiptoe through the last part, even though I can still hear my parents yelling, and I sigh with relief when I'm able to shut them out as I leave the house.

It's freezing cold outside. Thankfully it only takes me two and a half minutes to walk to our meeting point, which is the third house over between Lucas's and mine. I realize he's parked in an SUV, and he signals for me to get in.

I open the door to the passenger's seat and sit, instantly warmed by the heat inside the car and the image of the guy sitting next to me.

"Don't you wear gloves? It's fourteen degrees outside," he says, covering my hands with his.

I shrug, mostly because his touch is doing crazy things to me. I've now confirmed that it wasn't just the alcohol from last night making me feel this way. He huffs, and before I know it he's putting his gloves on me.

"Thank you," I manage to say once he's finished.

He looks at me curiously. "Are you okay? You look ... pale."

"Yeah, just feeling hungover."

"Did you eat?" he asks with concern.

I shake my head. "Not yet."

He mumbles something and starts the car, seemingly annoyed. I get that he's looking out for me, but I've managed to get along just fine without his help all these years. However, I am kind of a mess at the moment.

It's odd watching him drive. We never got to that stage, and seeing him now makes me realize how much time has passed since we stopped being friends.

Seven years.

It feels like a lifetime.

"You still like pancakes?" Lucas asks.

I'm dazed that he remembers these things. "Yeah," I say, although the thought of eating pancakes makes me sick. Maybe I'm worse than I thought I was. I don't want him to think I'm being difficult, so I decide to go along with it.

We end up at the local IHOP. Neither of us looks at the menu. I order my usual strawberry banana pancakes and Lucas gets the blueberry.

I take big gulps of water. He's looking at me with those intense blue eyes of his. "Is it weird that I like seeing you in my cap?"

Damn. I had forgotten I'm still wearing it.

"Um, thanks for letting me borrow it," I reply, although I'm certain I took it from him last night because I wanted to run my fingers through his hair. So embarrassing.

I'm about to give it back to him when he says, "Keep it, Claudia."

I'm surprised at the offer because when we were kids, he was very particular about his baseball caps. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lucas asks. "You don't look well, to be honest."

Great. Maybe I should've stayed home after all. "I'm fine. I just drank too much last night," I say, brushing it off.

"Well, I had a lot of fun with you last night, Audi. Even if you don't remember."

"I had fun too—and I do remember. Just not everything, apparently."

He grins. "Do you remember when you told me that you missed me?"

"I did not say that!"

"Yeah, you did. You also said you wanted to kick me in the nuts right after, so I took it with a grain of salt."

"That I remember," I laugh.

"Oh, you have selective memory now?"

"For all I know, you could be making up what I said so that you can use it to your advantage."

He chuckles. "I wouldn't lie to you, Claudia. For the record, I missed you too. I also told you last night, but I'm saying it again just in case you choose not to remember that either."

My body temperature heats up several degrees, and I can't seem to drink enough water to cool down. "What are we doing here, Lucas?"

I hate to ask him this, but it's hard to reconcile the sweet guy in front of me with the guy who didn't speak to me for seven years.

"I just wanted to talk to you," Lucas says. "I thought maybe we could be friends again."

"I don't know if I can be your friend, Lucas. What's the point, anyway? We have separate lives on opposite coasts."

"We also have two weeks before that happens."

I sit back. "Two weeks to do what, exactly? Frolic around until one of us gets hurt again?"

"To just hang out and get to know each other. Whatever happens, happens."

I hesitate, thinking about the consequences of what that could entail. "I don't know, Lucas. If I'm being completely honest here, just seeing you is bringing back so many memories and feelings, and it's only day one. I don't think my heart could survive afterwards."

The waitress chooses this moment to bring us our pancakes, and I find myself blushing at my confession. She asks us if we need anything else, but Lucas says no as he continues staring at me. Once we're alone again, I busy myself by preparing my pancakes with butter and syrup, even though I know I won't be able to eat them. Lucas hasn't responded to the last thing I said, and it's killing me. I might have said too much.

"Don't you ever wonder though?" he asks softly.

I don't have the willpower to look at him as I whisper, "All the time."

"Audi ..." He stops when I wince. "What's wrong?"

I place my hand over my stomach. Real pain—not emotional, and I'm not imagining it. I try to dismiss it, but it throbs near my navel, blaring and obvious. Real pain. Not emotional. I fold my arms over my stomach and lean forward, hoping it will stop soon. "Nothing. Probably cramps, or something."

"Do you have your period?"

I wail. "No."

"Are you getting it soon?"

I breathe heavily. "What kind of questions are these?"

He stands up. "Medical questions." He comes around to where I'm bent over and he touches my forehead, then my neck. "Jesus. You're burning up." He lifts up my sweater before I can say anything, and I'm about to protest when he says, "I'm going to check something. Don't worry. I'm pre-med."

He's pre-med?

His cool fingers press underneath my navel, causing me to yell out in pain.

"Shit," he mutters. "We're leaving."

"What? Now?"

"Yes. Now. Can you stand up?"

I think about attempting to move. "I—I don't think so."

He throws a couple of bills on the table, then scoops me up into his arms bridal-style to rush me out of the restaurant.

I'm unable to speak through the pain at this point, but he answers the obvious question burning inside me. "It's your appendix," he says. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Author's Note: We found out more about Claudia's home life in this chapter and why she doesn't like coming home during school breaks.

What do you think happened between their parents?

Claudia's hangover also turned out to be a lot more serious than she thought! Good thing Dr. Lucas came to the rescue. ;)

The song of the chapter is "Burning House" by Cam.