A blaring alarm rips me from sleep—I'd forgotten to turn it off for the weekend. It's 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday, and I don't even have to be at work. Why do I do this to myself?

I roll over to check if Jay heard the alarm, but she's still fast asleep beside me—thank goodness. We had a casual movie night last night because all the girls were feeling like absolute crap. I've been lucky enough to never experience a hangover, so I can't relate, but sometimes a quiet night in is exactly what the doctor ordered.

I haven't heard from Donovan since Thursday night when we said goodbye. He left me in a haze of uncertainty, but Jay and I are meeting up with some of our other friends at Dingy Doo's later, so hopefully that'll take my mind off him.

I tried to get a few more hours of sleep, but my brain clearly had other plans—it's wide awake. I grab a book and the hookah pipe and head for the door. I try to unlock it quietly, but of course, the moment you try to be quiet, everything makes a noise. When I drop the keys, I'm not even surprised. Thankfully, Jay can sleep through just about anything, so I make my escape to the garden.

I pull one of our sun chairs into the middle of the yard, right under the morning sun. It's already warm, which is typical for summer. In an hour or two, it'll be sweltering, and everyone will be complaining.

Oakley comes bounding through the doggy door and leaps into my lap as I sit down.
"Good morning, mommy's boy," I say, petting him.

This—this is how mornings should start. The hookah is lit, my book is open, and I lean back, letting my head rest against the cushion. I flip through page after page, drifting from my world into the author's. The tension in my shoulders slowly melts away. Books can be emotionally intense, sure—but the escape they offer is a kind of therapy. Sometimes, that's exactly what I need.

A few hours later, the house begins to stir. My mom is smoking by the pool table, Mel is lounging on a chair next to me, and Jay finally makes her way outside.

"You lot look like you were dragged through a bush backwards," my stepdad quips.

At that, all of us turn and glare at him—but then we burst out laughing. Ted's superpower is insulting you in a way that still makes you laugh. It's all in good fun, and that phrase is one of his classics.

"I made coffee," Jay says, handing me a steaming hot mug of much needed caffeine.

I take a sip and scooch higher on the chair, making space for her to join us. Mel hands Jay a pipe and leans back, covering her eyes with her arm. Jay thanks her and takes a pull, eyeing me through the smoke.

"What?" I ask.

"Have you heard from him?" she replies.

"Who?"

"Oh, don't play coy now," she says playfully, nudging my leg.

"I have no idea who you're talking about," I say, feigning innocence and disinterest.

That grabs Mel's attention. She looks over at me with a sly grin.

"Don, obviously," Jay laughs, turning to Mel in disbelief.

"No. And I'm not going to be the first one to send a text again."

Right on cue, my phone chimes. The girls erupt with collective "oohs," complete with raised brows, kissing noises, and laughter.

Donovan 11:43

We're heading to a braai at my friend's place tonight. You in?

Tam 😊 11:44

Well well, look who decided to text me... I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me 😏

Donovan 11:50

Forget you? Not possible. Just been giving you a little space... you miss me or what?

Tam 😊 11:51

Depends... are there going to be snacks? And I don't mean chips 😜 Where's this party happening?

Donovan 12:05

Close to you actually. Just a few friends—me, Bronx, and Thompson. You should definitely come.

Tam 😊 12:06

My my, no need to nag. Can I bring Jay? Also, what time?

Donovan 12:23

Yeah, Bronx was hoping you'd bring her. 06:00 pm

Tam 😊 12:24

Was he, now? Okay cool. What do we need to bring with?

Donovan 12:43

Whatever you're drinking. We've got the meat.

Tam 😊 12:45

Drop the address. We'll see you then.

"So, I know we already have plans for tonight," I say to Jay, "but Donovan invited us to a braai at his friend's house."
She doesn't respond right away, so I add, "Bronx is going to be there. Apparently, he asked Donovan to make sure I brought you."

"Bronx? As in Bronx from school?" Jay replies, almost sounding irritated.

"That's the one. Things didn't end well between you two, I take it?" I ask cautiously.

"I wouldn't say that," she says calmly. "He just kind of stopped talking to me. So, I took that as a sign that whatever we had fizzled out."

Jay sees the hopeful look in my eyes and finally agrees to go—but not without a condition. "Fine, I'll come. But don't leave me alone with Bronx," she warns.

"Do you have a jacket?" Jay asks as we're about to head out.

"Jay, it's hot as balls outside. A jacket is definitely not necessary," I laugh.

"You're right. Let's go," she says with a wink, grabbing the keys.

My mom is dropping us off, so we hop into the car—drinks packed, energy buzzing. I pull out my phone to guide her using the location Donovan sent. He wasn't lying when he said the place was close—it's probably only a five-minute drive. Still, nerves begin to prickle down my spine as we get closer.

"Which house is it?" my mom asks.

"Oh... um, I'm not actually sure," I admit. "He didn't give me an exact address—just the location pin."

"Wait! There's Don!" Jay says, pointing as we spot Donovan walking toward our car.

"Hi there, ma'am. I'm Donovan," he says, leaning his arms casually on my mom's open window.

"Nice to meet you, Donovan. You can call me Cal," she replies with a warm smile. She glances back at us and laughs. "Alright, ladies—I'll see you two later. Be safe, and remember the curfew."

"Thanks, Mom," I say quickly as I hop out of the car.

Donovan walks around to meet us and offers to carry the bag with our drinks.

"It's okay, thank you. I've got it," I reply.

He shakes his head, laughing softly, and takes the bag from me anyway.

He leads the way toward the house, which turns out to be right next to where we parked. So... the location was almost accurate. Great. I already feel awkward. Why did I agree to this again? I'm definitely not someone who feels at ease in strangers' homes. My mind starts spinning with excuses to call my mom and ask her to turn back.

Jay snaps me out of my spiral. "So Bronx is here?" she asks Donovan.

"Yeah, he's excited to see you," he replies.

"I'm sure he is," she says flatly. "What exactly did he say?"

We step through the front door before Donovan can answer—and just like that, Bronx appears in the hallway with a grin on his face.

"Jay."