"What's wrong?" I try to stay calm, but when it comes to my sister, my patience wears thin fast. She's my whole world.

"Well, Carry and I ran into Jason outside. Everything was going fine until he saw Sloan. I think they're going to fight," Mel says calmly.

Great. Just what we needed.

Jason's one of our friends, a few years older, and not exactly patient with the disrespectful teens who seem to overrun Dingy Doo. I can't really blame him - I'm not even a fan of my own generation. But it's killing my vibe. I was enjoying my time dancing with Don. Sloan, on the other hand, is Don's friend. That could be a problem.

"What? Sloan and Jason are fighting?" Don asks, eyes wide.

"Ummm, not yet. But I think they're going to fight pretty soon. I left to call Tam when the cussing began," Mel says, looking from me to Don.

"Shit!" Don exclaims and runs straight out.

I know Sloan from school. I can't recall ever noticing Don, though. I wasn't into the big, popular crowds. The only reason I even know Sloan is from playing sports. I grab our jackets and head outside to see what the commotion is.

As I step outside, I can see what Mel was referring to. Jason and Sloan are standing on opposite sides of the parking lot, shouting. They're slowly making their way toward one another.

"Jason!" I shout and walk up to him.

He's really mad - so mad he barely notices I'm there. Jason taught me a trick when we became friends: if he's ever in a fight and I need to calm him down, I should touch his ears. It's weird, but it works. Before I can even react, Mel steps in, pressing her hands gently over his ears. His breathing is slowing down - which is a good sign - but Sloan is still on his way over.

"Mel, I need you to move away," I say to her.

She registers what's happening and comes to my side. I assume that Carry and Milton had to go home because I can't see them anywhere. That's a good thing. It means I only need to worry about Mel. It's not that I wouldn't step in to protect my friends - I would - but I have no idea what sparked this fight and Jason and Sloan have always had bad blood.

Maybe it would be best if they just boxed it out and got it over with.

Jason's anger flares again and he meets Sloan halfway. Then the first punch lands - and everything unravels in a blur of fists and kicks. What I didn't see coming was Jason's cousin charging in out of nowhere, jumping on Sloan while he was already down.

Cheap shot. I have never liked Jason's cousin because behaviour like this is normal for him. 

Luckily for Sloan, his friend saw what was happening and sprinted over, landing a punch on Jason's cousin. He dragged him off, and just like that, a second fight broke out on the side.

Honestly, I prefer a one-on-one. If you're going to throw punches, at least keep it fair.
There's more shouting behind me. I spin around - Kyle, the bar manager, is storming outside, ready to shut this down.

I've always liked Kyle. He doesn't put up with anyone's crap and could take out a group of guys without breaking a sweat. The man used to be an underground fighter - no joke.
He charges into the mess, grabs the guys mid-brawl, and yells for them to get the hell away from his bar. I silently thank him. Fights are exhausting to watch, and honestly, I was done.

Jason and his cousin, maybe realizing they crossed a line, head to their car. Sloan and his friend take off in the opposite direction like they've just remembered they had somewhere to be.

Now - where the hell is Donovan?

I head back toward the bar, only to see him jogging over from the petrol station next door. Kyle spots him and assumes the worst - his whole posture shifts as he storms toward Donovan, eyes blazing.

"Kyle!" I yell, running to intercept him. I press my hands against his chest, trying to calm him.

Donovan looks completely thrown off. He grabs my hand, eyes wide, voice tight with anger.

"Are you crazy? You don't walk up to a guy when he's that pissed!" he yells.

"Shh," I whisper, turning back to Kyle. I know how to handle him. I've known him for four years - I trust him.

It works. He exhales, plants a quick kiss on my forehead, and mutters, "Okay, baby," before walking away. 

We're not a thing - Kyle just calls all the girls at the bar "baby" and looks out for us like a big brother.

I turn back to Donovan. His jaw's basically on the ground.

"You okay?" I ask. 

"I can't believe you just did that."

"Oh, it's fine. I know him." I shrug. It was honestly no big deal. 

A loud honk breaks the moment, followed by Sloan yelling at Donovan to get in the car.
Ah, so that's where he disappeared to - he ran off to grab the ride.

Donovan turns toward them, holding up a finger. "Just a sec."

"Just kiss her already and get in the car!" Sloan shouts.

Wait - what?

Mel's inside. It's just the two of us here. Have I totally misread this? Were we actually flirting all night?

He waves them off, then slides his hands into his pockets, flashing a sheepish little smile.

"Can you take my number?" he asks.

And just like that, the vibe shifts. Oh. That's what this is. He wants me to text him so he can ghost me later while his friends laugh about the desperate girl who fell for it. Classic. That feels like a predictable move in the popular kid social dynamic. 

Cold water. Bucket. Face. Got it.

"Shouldn't you be the one taking my number?" I ask, folding my arms.

"My phone's dead," he replies, still staring at me with that stupid smile.

Seriously? He thinks I'm that gullible? Cute eyes or not, I'm not one of those girls who melts over a flirty line and a charming smirk.

"I don't believe you," I say, more irritated now.

The realization is obvious on his face, and he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, really. I can show you." He pulls his phone out, presses the button. Blank screen.
Okay, fine. Maybe he's telling the truth.

I hand him my phone. He types his number in.

"We'll chat," he says, backing toward the car. Was that rehearsed? Because damn...

I'm not about to stand there like some Disney extra watching her almost-love-interest disappear into the distance. I spin around and head back inside.

It's a short drive home, and Mel and I are rehashing the night - swapping gossip, piecing together the drama, and filling in each other's blanks. Honestly, she's got way more to report. I spent most of the night dancing with Donovan.

"So... did he kiss you?" she asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Who?" I say, pretending not to know.

"Donovan, obviously! I saw you two outside and figured I'd give you some space," she says, grinning and nudging me playfully.

"Oh, no - It wasn't like that. He just asked me to take his number," I reply, glancing at her.

"What? He asked you to take his number?" Her eyes widen.

"Yeah, his phone was dead," I shrug.

Right then, the Uber driver decides he's had enough and cranks up the music. Mel glares at him, undeterred, and just raises her voice.

"You know that's a classic excuse, right?"

Oh, Mel. Sweet, sweet Mel. I may be the older sister, but when she wants to be, she's all bossy and protective.

"I thought the same thing, but he actually showed me - his phone really was dead," I say, smiling.

When we get home, Mom's already outside waiting. She always tracks our rides and refuses to sleep until we walk through the door. We say hi, and all head inside - Mom and Mel into the house, me into my cottage.

I can't even bring myself to wash off my makeup or change into pyjamas. I know it's a bad idea - my hair's going to be a mess, and my skin will hate me tomorrow - but I just don't have it in me tonight.

I flop onto the bed, reach over to plug in my phone, and decide to send Donovan a quick text. Just one message - enough so he has my number. From there, it's his move.

Tam 😊 00:33

Hey, it's Tam.

Thirty minutes. Still nothing.
Of course. I knew it - Donovan was just in it for the thrill, a little ego boost. Classic.
I flick the TV on like it's supposed to distract me, and somewhere between reruns and regret, I pass out.

Morning comes. I grab my phone like I do every day, ready for my usual scroll through chaos and cat videos -
- but there it is. A text. From him.

Donovan 07:35

Hey Tam. For a second there, I thought you weren't gonna text 😉

Tam 😊 08:50

Well... since you asked me to take your number, I figured I'd better use it 😅

Donovan 08:53

Haha, true. Glad you did. Thanks for last night - I had a lot of fun.

Tam 😊 08:54

Same here. 😊 Did your friends all make it home in one piece?

Donovan 09:07

Yeah, we all crashed at one house. Chaos avoided. What are you up to today?

Tam 😊 09:08

Probably just taking it easy... and mentally preparing for Monday 😅 You?

Donovan 09:13

I'm going for a run at Nestin. It's the field right by our old high school.

Tam 😊 09:14

I'm familiar with it. I live across the road.

Donovan 10:54

No way, really? That's dangerously close. Might have to bump into you sometime.

Tam 😊 11:00

Haha, who knows... you might 😉 Enjoy your run!

Well, that wasn't awkward at all. It honestly felt like he was just being polite - no real interest in keeping the conversation going. Am I overthinking? I'm overthinking. Whatever. I knew this was too good to be true. Guys who look like him don't usually go for girls like me. I'm short, curvy, and come with an attitude that could level a house. He's... well, pretty and all that. I toss my phone aside and head into the house to grab some breakfast.

It's been a slow, lazy Sunday. After eating, I crawled back into bed and spent the day watching cartoons like a kid hiding from responsibilities. When my ex moved out, he took almost everything from the cottage. I was left with my childhood single bed and a battered TV that only works for YouTube, sitting on a stack of boxes. Since I already battle insomnia, that setup didn't help - major pain in the ass. So, when my salary bumped up a bit, I opened a store account and bought a new TV, kettle, microwave, and a cute little tea-and-sugar container set. Thankfully, the fridge was my dad's, so at least that didn't disappear. I'll upgrade everything else slowly - but honestly? I'm proud of how far I've come.

After a full day of doing absolutely nothing, I can't say I'm shocked that Donovan hasn't messaged me again. He read my last message over an hour ago... and then ghosted. Typical. Oh well.