"Just you and me. Falling backwards. Just you and me."

SHALLOU | YOU AND ME

• • •

Her shift at Mouille Coffee was possibly the worst one yet.

The artisan café was situated between grainy apartment buildings and a repair shop just around the curb of her school's parking lot. Usually, they only had around ten or so customers but the football game today brought in around twenty or more high school students looking for a quick fix of coffee and snacks.

Great for business, horrible for Eden's back. She spent the entire late afternoon shuffling up and down, carrying plates and cups, filling the cash register and swiping cards when it was the cashier's break.

She dragged her feet into her quiet house and lay her copy of her keys down in the foyer. Dad wasn't home yet, or maybe he was in the shed working on something, but Eden couldn't tell if Birdie was home either.

Eden jumped in and out of the shower, scrubbing off the smell of grease and sugar when she realized something. Birdie...Birdie. Her sister was supposed to be mending the Everett's garden right now, but was she? God no.

Throwing on the first casual outfit she could think of, Eden grabbed her phone and dialed Birdie's number relentlessly, each time there was no answer.

"Ugh," she groaned and bit her nails.

The sound of her front door bell rippled through the air and Eden rushed to the foyer, completely prepared to scold Birdie like a twelve-year-old kid. But she wasn't greeted by Birdie's apathetic blue eyes when she opened the door, instead she was graced with Smith Everett's small pearly smile.

He leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," she replied, with a half smile. "I hope you're not here to report another misdemeanor my sister committed?"

Smith's light brown hair was dark and wet, his white burnout tee had wet patches and underneath he was wearing a black and blue wetsuit. He placed his hand over his long, battered surfboard to steady it, its surface littered with stickers of bands, vacation hotspots, and sport logos.

He shook his head with a laugh. "No, no. My mom sent me here to remind you that—"

"Birdie didn't come today?" Eden guessed, nodding, her eyes flat with disappointment. "I thought so." She pulled the door open wider and gestured for Smith to enter. "This might take a while."

Leaving his surfboard on the fence of her patio, he walked inside tentatively. Eyes roaming her living room and the paper plates of left-over pizza on the wooden coffee table, the mug of hot chocolate balancing on the arm of a chair, and the TV muted on a cooking channel.

Maybe she shouldn't have invited him in with her house in this state.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience of my sister. She's a bit of an asshole," Eden said. Conscience-stricken, she picked up the paper plates and the mug.

"I don't think anyone would want to be a gardener for a day, so yeah, I get it." Smith shrugged. "But isn't her boyfriend gonna help her at least?"

Wren Dyer was hardly Birdie's boyfriend. Well, maybe he was, see, no one really knew with Birdie. He was a half-assed high school dropout whose rich parents refused to hold him accountable for a single thing he did.

"You know that phrase 'it takes two to tango'?" Eden asked, paused, and then shook her head dramatically. "That doesn't apply to Wren. He's not her boyfriend he's one of her mood swings, and his logic is that he didn't do anything with her anyway, so," she continued. "That's that."

"Sounds like a piece of work. There's no way Birdie's gonna take all the responsibility?" Smith's eyes were wide and his eyebrows knotted with concern.

Eden snickered. "He's never gonna lift a finger. Right now, he's probably at home playing pool or something."

Suddenly, Smith stood up and a sweep of cool confidence brushed past her. "Where does he live?" He fidgeted with his car keys in his pocket.

"Bettencourt Bay. Why?" The wealthiest of the wealthy were tucked away in Bettencourt Bay, surrounded by lavish gardens, cars, and an invisible forcefield of privilege. Wren's family came from the most enigmatic affluence. Some people claimed that his family runs on money laundering, others claimed that he sells marijuana—knowing him Eden wouldn't be surprised if all of those were true.

"Alright, let's go get 'em," he said, so casually that it sounded as if it was something he had scheduled for the day.

Eden blinked. "What? Are you serious?"

He raised his eyebrows, a lopsided grin hanging on his lips. "I've never been more serious in my life."

Before she could protest, Smith swung the door open. "I promise I'm a very safe driver, I've only put myself in danger maybe twice."

"Twice? That's supposed to impress me?" Eden scoffed, putting her hands on her hips.

Smith laughed. "Yes, three times a charm."

"Oh my God, you're insane," she said, but reluctantly left her house two minutes later and found herself once again, alone in a car with her new neighbor. A neighbor who would strangely enough, leave his house at the crack of dawn.

"Says the girl who attacked Caleb with a book." He slipped into the driver's seat and revved the engine.

"God, does everyone know about that?" She questioned, her voice edging with irritation. Why was Caleb even bringing that up again? "And it was an accident. I didn't attack him, I just got scared and defended myself."

"When did this even happen?"

"It was during a campout last year, he came to my tent trying to scare me and I hit him—hard."

"Really hard."

"Well, yeah, it's not my fault I thought I was going to be slaughtered in the forest." Eden smiled sheepishly, and rested her head against the window.

Smith squinted his eyes and cocked his head to the side, pretending to think. "What kind of book has even the slightest possibility of giving someone a concussion?"

"AP Biology. Have you seen how thick that textbook is?"

"Oh, she thick all right."

Eden choked on her laughter and covered her nose, she'd never laughed to the point where she sounded like an inanimate object. Smith put his hand out as Eden's laugh intensified, he motioned with his hand using his index finger in a squeezing motion.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she cackled, her cheeks flushed red.

"It's a window cleaning spray. That's what you sound like," he remarked, grinning. "Every other girl's laugh is that cute fake shit, but yours is so real that it's fucking weird."

"Shut up." She smacked his hand away, and tried her hardest to be solemn but her grin dissolved any of that away.

They drove past their high school, and through the city center. Acacia Bay was a vast space of deciduous forests with snakes for roads.

It was serene. Sitting next to him, and watching his quirks. Smith drummed on the wheel and bobbed his head to the faint beat that fizzled out with the radio signal as they drove around the mountain bends, nearing Bettencourt Bay. Eden glanced briefly at the lookout. Waves crashing against the rocks below them littered the air and the smell of the sea was pungent.

She didn't come here often. There was really no need to.

Eventually, she navigated the way until they reached the Dyer driveway.

Wren and Birdie gawked as Eden swung the car door open. They were sitting on the balcony, smoking. Surprise surprise.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Birdie breathe with a disbelieving smile. "So, my sister's stalking me now?"

"I would say paroling you. Act like a kid, get treated like a kid," Eden said.

Birdie slammed her joint against the table and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she collected her belongings off the floor.

Wren rolled his head back. "C'mon Edes, loosen up a bit. You know what? I'll roll you one and you can chill with us."

Eden scoffed. "I have more productive things to do with my time than chill with a high school predator."

"Predator?" He chuckled. "I'm no predator Edes."

"What do you call a nineteen year old looking for sixteen year old girls to hook up with?" Eden narrowed her eyes and raised her eyebrows.

Birdie gripped Wren's arm and tugged him hard, before saying something indignant that convinced him to get in Smith's car.

The drive back was tense and while Wren and Birdie argued, Eden looked at Smith. She giggled and fist-bumped secretly.

As soon as Smith cut the lights in his driveway, Wren and Birdie poured out of the car like jello in a container and continued their heated discussion outside.

Eden stepped out of the car when Smith called her back.

"Are you going to Max's tomorrow?" he asked.

She created a burning sound effect through her teeth. "Uhm, I dunno. His warehouse party tomorrow? Maybe."

"How can I convince you?" Smith's green eyes pierced through Eden's inhibitions. She walked around to meet him halfway, and looked right back up at him.

"Something bad always happens at Max's," she said.

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" he tried, and then awed with a Eureka moment. "Oh wait, I know! Me, dancing."

Eden snorted. "Yeah that's probably true. If I go, I'll just have to avoid you."

"I'm sorry but if everyone has to stand me dancing, then so will you. Especially you," he uttered.

"I'll think about it."

As Eden walked next door, she didn't know what it was. She couldn't tell if it was this whole 'senior year' mentality or if it was that her best friend was already threatening her to go or if it was the unmistaken glint in Smith's eyes that had already convinced her to go.

The thing is, something always goes wrong at Max's. And something deep instinctual feeling told her that tomorrow wouldn't be any exception.

Always.