Saturday evening, April 25th, 2020

"This was a bad idea."

I jump in my seat when Asher hoots into the night, his upper body hanging out the passenger window. He pumps his fists in the air as we descend down Aubrey's street.

"Come on, Lonnie Hall. Live a little!" Asher shouts. His laughter seems to shake his whole body, to the point that I'm afraid he's going to fall out the car window.

"The fuck, Ash! Stop being a dickwad and get you fat head back in the car."

"Don't diss it until you try it, Syd!"

"Yeah, come on, man. The last thing we need is to grab your decapitated head off the road," Cooper gravels.

"Why did you have to get him so drunk before the party?" Kennedy mutters to herself, shaking her head.

Her eyes turn into slits as she watches Cooper in the rearview mirror, her palms gripping the wheel tighter.

He holds his hands up like he's surrendering. "Babe, you know he's an unstoppable machine once he starts chugging."

"I second that," Harry calls from the back, his head suddenly popping up from the boot.

"Get your puny head down, idiot! If the police see that you're in there, they'll pull Ken over and fine her!"

Syd turns in her seat, awkwardly trying to push Harry's head back down so that he won't be seen.

"Come on, Syd, you think police like to patrol random streets? I doubt I'm gonna get—"

"When a rager is being thrown, police do tend to patrol those streets. And do you know where a rager is being thrown right now? THIS STREET."

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbles, rolling his eyes at her.

I can't help but laugh. He catches my eye briefly, giving me a big grin.

"Harry!" Syd warns.

He quickly disappears back down but not before ruffling Sydney's hair.

"Asshole," she whispers, running her fingers through her straightened, fiery hair.

Everyone was in a weirdly good mood tonight. First, my mother. Now it seemed like Harry had caught the happy bug. He didn't seem as withdrawn as usual, like he was excited about going to this party.

I'd always thought that things might have been super awkward after our kiss, but it was the opposite. He seemed perfectly happy with just being friends.

I didn't know why, but I felt like maybe that was worse.

We finally pull up out the front of what must be Aubrey's house. The door is wide open and people are constantly walking in and out.

"How many— how many people did she invite?" I gulp.

"The hell would I know?" Asher laughs, opening the passenger side door and face planting into the pavement.

"Holy shit!" Syd says, laughing so loudly. "Where's my phone? Where's my phone?! This is some quality snapchat story content."

"Shit," Kennedy mutters, shaking her head. "Someone help me get him up."

Cooper follows Sydney out of the car, walking around to help Kennedy pick up a very, very drunk Ash.

"I think I'm gonna pee! Holy shit! This has to be one of the funniest things you've ever done drunk. I mean, the way you just lent against the door as it started to open and collapsed on the— the ground like— I'm sorry, I can't—"

Sydney leans back against the car, laughing so hard that she's gripping her stomach in pain. She can hardly hold the phone straight as she desperately tries to film Asher as he tries to stand up over and over.

"Seriously, Ash? Is it worth getting this drunk before the night even begins?" Kennedy shakes her head, pulling Asher up by his armpits.

"It's worth the entertainment!" Sydney cackles.

"Not helping," Kennedy mutters, shaking her head at Syd.

"Well, isn't this going to be fun?" Harry calls from behind me, his head poking over the seats.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, turning to face him. "Yeah. Totally."

"You good?" he questions, his brows pulled down in concern.

I nod, trying my best to reassure him. "Yeah. All good here."

"Lon—"

"Let's get you out of this boot," I interrupt, stepping out into the cool night.

Asher is staggering to his feet now, his arms wrapped around the shoulders of Cooper and Kennedy.

"We'll meet you in there, guys," Kennedy calls to us. "Gotta find a seat or something for this stupid drunk."

"Hey! Who are you calling drunk?" Asher slurs.

"Love how that's the part you get offended by and not the fact she just called you stupid," Sydney snorts.

The four of them walk off inside, whilst I open the boot, letting Harry out.

He crawls on his hands and knees, stretching his long limbs once his feet hit the ground. When he raises his arms, I get a waft of his deodorant and my body tingles. He smells amazing. Like citrus or—

Shit. Get yourself together.

"Ready?" he calls, shaking me from my thoughts.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I sigh, grabbing his hand as he pulls us both inside.

I can't hear a thing. I'm worried my eardrums might burst. The bass is way too loud. I hate this song. And, the host of the party hates me. Plus I have to try and hide from her all night.

Why did I come again?

Harry leads the way past the open-plan lounge room and kitchen. We zig-zag through constant crowds of people dancing. I can hardly breathe. Who knew this many people could fit into a room?

Harry pulls me closer to him, dragging me so that I'm not stuck behind. He places his hand on the small of my back, gently manoeuvring me towards the doors that lead out to the backyard.

I spot Asher first, leaning half off his chair, his arms wrapped around a large bowl. No doubt for the contents in his stomach being released.

Sydney is talking to a group of girls near the pool area, whilst Cooper sits with Ken on his lap. All they seem to be doing is smiling all gooey-eyed at each other.

Harry grabs a chair for me and I politely thank him, before he walks off to go grab some drinks for us.

"Lon, get a load of this!" Sydney laughs, walking towards me.

She strides over, her phone outstretched. I grab it from her, playing the video on the screen.

It's of Asher from earlier. He's lying on the pavement, his face smooshed into the ground, making him look like he has fat cheeks. He's trying to talk but he ends up looking like a fish out of water.

I try to suppress my laughter but it's too hard.

Once it finishes she grabs it off me, taking a seat on the spare chair next to me.

A fire pit sits to the right of the pool area, blowing heat towards me. I put my palms out, warming them close to the fire.

"You know, I always wondered something," I say, turning to Syd.

"What?"

"You and Ash, you seem really close. Like, closer than the rest. Have you known him as long as Cooper has?"

"Longer," she snorts. "Our dad's went to school together. They're besties, or whatever. I've known Ash's family since I came out of my mother's—"

"Yeah, okay. I get the imagery. Thanks."

She laughs, bumping my shoulder. "He's like a brother to me. A stupid, idiotic, brother. But nonetheless, I'd cut off my own arm for him, you know?"

She smiles over at Asher as we both watch him sleeping soundlessly in his chair.

"It's crazy, because everyone sees him as this tough, larger-than-life, class-clown. Honestly, though, Lon, he's the biggest softie."

"How so?"

"Well, this one time, when I got food poisoning as a kid, he bought me all this food. Like, obviously food was the last thing I wanted but he spent all his savings on all my favourite stuff anyway. I mean, he only had fifty-dollars, but still, that was a lot for a nine-year-old."

I already knew how Asher could be, of course. After all, he never told anyone about the state I was in at Liam's fundraiser. He never told them how upset I was because he'd kept his promise.

"And this other time, when we were just about to start high school, I broke my arm riding on Cooper's motorised scooter. Totally embarrassing because the thing only went about 5km an hour."

I wince, picturing a younger Sydney falling off and breaking her bones.

"Cooper thought I was faking at first so he was just standing there laughing at me. But Ash knew as soon as he saw my face. He knew how embarrassed I was too. So, he pretended to get on the scooter and fall off as well, even though it looked so staged. Anyway, he pretended to get really hurt while I was just there whimpering, trying not to cry too much. Then he came up to me with this fake limp. And you know what he said?"

"What?"

"You're a lot braver than me, Syd. I've definitely bruised my toe and I think I'm about to cry. It wasn't even funny but he just made me laugh so hard that I completely forgot about the pain."

I smile at Asher, watching as his head flops to the side. He almost falls off but jerks awake. Sydney laughs quietly next to me, shaking her head.

"You're the type of people that are meant to be soulmates," I say, hugging myself.

She snorts. "Oh no. He's not my type."

"You mean, you prefer guys that don't give themselves buzz cuts just to look like young Channing Tatum?"

She laughs. "Well, there's that. And also the minor detail that I bat for the other team."

"You— OH. Oh. Right."

"Yeah," she laughs. "Sorry, I guess I never mentioned it. It's not a secret or anything. I just don't go around telling everyone."

"Don't apologise. I get that."

"Ash was actually the first person I ever told. I kind of just blurted out one day that I liked girls and he literally just said, okay, cool. And that was that. I love that about him. He never makes anything feel awkward or weird."

She smiles over at him, affection evident in her expression.

"But I guess, in a sense— and don't tell him I said this, alright? His ego is big enough. But, I guess he is my soulmate. Just not the conventional type. The best friend type."

"I don't think soulmates have to be romantic anyway," I agree. "I think a soulmate is just someone that is supposed to be in your life for a reason. Someone who will always look out for you. Someone who, even if they aren't always by your side, will always be in your heart."

Sydney coughs. "That shit just got real deep."

"Sorry," I whisper, swinging my legs back and forth.

"Don't be," she smiles. "Do you think you've met your soulmate?"

I ponder the idea for a second, thinking about every person in my life and everyone who used to be.

"I'm not sure if we ever truly know who our soulmate it until they're staring us right in the face, you know? And then you just realise one day. Like, shit. It's you. And, no, I don't think—"

"What about Harry?" she grins mischievously.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," she smirks, unlocking her phone and opening photos.

"I wanted to show you something actually. It's a photo that I took the other day when you weren't looking. Harry obviously wasn't looking either."

"Huh?"

"Just look," she says, passing me the phone.

I blink twice to focus on the bright screen. A photo lights up the phone. A photo of Harry and me at lunch, taken last week. Sydney was sitting at the end of the table and she'd taken it of Harry and I sitting opposite each other.

"Syd, what is this?"

"A photo."

"Yeah, but why'd you take it?"

"Seriously, Lon. Look. Look at Harry."

I glance back down at the photo on the screen. I'm facing Kennedy, her hands adamantly moving as she was explaining a story to me. But that isn't why Syd took this photo.

She took it because of Harry. Because of the way he's looking at me. He's looking at me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

"Syd..."

"Seriously, Lon. He likes you. Like, he probably even—"

"No," I stand up, swallowing hard. "Don't say that."

"Come on. You must see it. Why are you denying this?"

"I'm not— I—"

"Look, I don't like to assume things but— fuck it. I know you like him too."

I'm starting to tremble. I shake my head vigorously, trying to make the tears stay in my damn eyes.

Sydney stands up to face me. "Lonnie. I know that you're a pretty private person but you know that it's okay to open up to us. You're our friend."

"I think I'm gonna go see where Harry's gone," I blurt, walking off.

Syd calls out to me but I don't look back. I can't.

I couldn't think of the possibility that Harry liked me. My brother killed Liam, after all.

Even if I wanted to, it wasn't possible. I couldn't be with someone who I was lying to. I couldn't hurt Harry the way my brother already has, even if it was unbeknownst to him.

I crack the door open and wince. Memories by David Guetta is blasting through the speakers. The volume is so loud that I can hardly hear myself think.

Harry isn't in the kitchen when I look around. There are only a few people standing around drinking. The rest are dancing in the lounge room, squished in like sardines.

I get myself a drink whilst I look around for Harry. It was hard to see anyone when all the faces were blurring together in the crowd.

"Sorry, would I be able to get to the fridge?"

"Oh, yeah, of—"

My breath leaves me momentarily when I realise who has just spoken to me.

None other than the host herself. Aubrey Steinfeld.

I go to walk off, but she grabs my arm. Although she isn't holding on tight, I feel as if my skin is being seared by her touch.

"Are you sure we don't know each other?"

My hair falls in front of my face as I try desperately to cover up who I am.

"No. Don't think so."

She drops my arm as I rush off. My heart is racing so fast that I can hardly breathe.

This was a terrible idea. Why did I let this happen?

Someone barges into me from behind and I stumble forward into someone else. My drink goes flying for my hand, smashing onto the hardwood floor.

People around me begin to stare and I cower away from their watchful eyes.

"Sorry," I say. "I'm so sorry."

I'm not even talking to anyone in particular but the words make my lip tremble.

Someone grips my arm and I flinch, expecting it to be Aubrey, realising who I am.

"Lon?"

It's Harry. Kind, wonderful, Harry.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"We didn't find a letter. He didn't leave anything behind."

"Nothing?"

"No, Lonnie. Nothing at all."

"Jesus, Lon. You're shaking."

Harry reaches over to set his drink down on the kitchen bench. He reaches out for me, pushing me towards the hallway.

He leads me down to a bedroom, shutting the door behind us. I fumble towards the bed. I take off my sneakers, pulling my knees to my chest.

"Sorry I was taking so long. A couple guys from the footy team— it isn't important anyway. What happened?"

"What happened? What happened to Nix?"

"We found him, London."

"What happened just now?" Harry repeats, withdrawing me from my memories.

I shake my head. "Nothing," I whisper.

"Lon," Harry sighs, sitting down next to me. "Please."

"I'm fine, Harry."

"No. You're fucking not," he says, wracking a hand through his hair in frustration.

I'd never seen Harry like this. I guess I deserved it. Even I was annoyed at myself. Annoyed for being a complete and utter idiot to even allow myself to walk through the doors of this house.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I just— I just want to know why. Why do you always insist on shutting me out?"

"Harry..."

"No, Lon. It's true. You do it to everyone."

I wipe my eyes, looking away from Harry.

"I just— I feel like I hardly know anything about you."

"What do you want to know?" I whisper, my eyes locked to the floor.

"Everything."

I gulp, closing my eyes. I try my best to offer him a smile. As soon as I see his expression I know he isn't buying it.

"Well, my favourite colour is blue. I love all the Shrek movies. I—"

"Lon," he whispers, reaching for my hand. "I want to know the things that make you tick. What you're always thinking about. Why you always have this sad expression written across your face."

"The truth is messy, Harry," I whisper. "The truth is never easy."

"What are you afraid of? Do you think you could really scare me away now? I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"You can't say that, Harry. You can't promise something like that," I shake my head.

"Lon—"

"You wanna know the truth, Harry? Fine."

"I—"

I interrupt him by standing up. I start to pace around the room, tugging on the ends of my hair.

"I used to think that I knew someone really well. I was close to this person. I thought I knew everything about them. Every single detail. But something changed all that. This, darkness. And now...well, I'm left to pick up all the pieces they left behind."

"So you're scared to open up again?" Harry whispers. He rests his arms against his thighs, clasping his hands together under his chin.

He wasn't wrong. But he wasn't close to the truth, either. I was scared of what people would see if they knew the truth. I knew they'd look at me as if I was Nix. As if it was really me who killed people.

"Murdering bitch. Just like your brother."

"Lon, you know you can trust me, right?"

I gulp, nodding.

But you can't trust me, Harry. You can never trust me.

"Do you trust me, Lon?"

"Yes, Harry, but I—"

"And I trust you. Okay?"

"Harry, you—"

"Lon. I trust you."

"No, I—"

"I trust you."

My lip begins to quiver again. I shake my head at him, stepping back as he steps towards me.

"I trust you."

"Stop, Harry," I say, my palms outstretched.

"I. Trust. You."

A sob escapes my throat. Harry reaches me, pulling me into his chest. He delicately holds my head, brushing my hair.

"You can't, Harry. Please don't."

Everything he knew about me was built on lies. Everyone in my new life only new the lies that I had told them.

They would never really know me. None of them would ever truly know anything about me. I hated that.

I hated this. I hated myself. I fucking hated Nix for ruining everything. And worst of all, I hated myself for still holding onto the old fragments of Nix. The fragments that I still loved despite wanting to hate him completely.

I could never tell them the truth. I could never be the person I wanted to be. Not with everything that has happened. I'd never be the same again, no matter how hard I tried. No matter how many lies I told.

I push back from Harry, wiping my eyes.

"I have to— I've gotta go."

"Lon—"

I shut the door behind me before Harry can stop me. I brush past everyone in the hallway.

I had to leave. I had to get out of this place before it collapsed on me. Before it suffocated me entirely.

I make it outside, my breathing heavy. I run down the driveway, the cold night air stinging my watery eyes.

Kennedy's car was still here, obviously. Sitting in its parking spot.

I had no other choice. I had to run home.
But I needed it. I needed to run. I needed to clear my head.

Who cares if it takes an hour to get home. I needed this. I needed to leave everything behind and just forget for a while.

Forgot who I was.

Forget who I am.

Forget what I may become.