(EDITED)
(Note to readers: Some chapters ahead may not be in line with the new edits.)

C8H10N4O2

Caffeine (1,3,7-trimethylxanthine).

Methylxanthine stimulant. Bitter, white, crystalline purine. A eugeroic and most widely used psychoactive drug, can cause increased heart rate, breathing, nervousness, and severe insomnia.

_____________________

The next week progressed with as many bumps as you can imagine.

The first morning after commenced with a team meeting. We were gathered around the guys' living room once more, the morning light of the final day of June glowing down on us through the wide open windows, perfectly baked and crisping at the edges. We sat scattered on the floor and armchairs and couch. Rosalie stood above us, Kenzo and Meredith on the floor, me on the armchair with Kane against the arm of the couch. He was, surprisingly, the calmest one amongst Corvus.

"You stabbed his hand with a beer bottle that you broke," Rosalie recounted. "Then escaped via their driver's car via Aster Kim who is, what, suddenly our brand new ally in the midst of this bullshit?"

I said, "I cut his hand. That's completely different."

Corvus stared at me. Zahir opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "I'm impressed?"

"Impressed," Diego acknowledged, "is not the exact word I'd choose."

"More like 'mortified'," Rosalie snapped. "Look at his face!"

"I like to think I've got a very socially-acceptably-average-looking face," I argued.

"Yeah, not with all that bashing in its got," she retorted. "When we said 'find Kane', did you hear 'fight a crazy, 190 pound Alpha with your bare hands and broken glass'?"

I scoffed. "Those don't even sound alike."

Diego said, "You're not helping anyone fighting."

"What was I supposed to do?"

"You should've called us."

"Why are we always the ones walking away?"

Corvus didn't reply. They gave me a strange look, like that was not one of the replies they expected, and upon hearing it, were less angry and more confused. Rosalie pursed her lips.

"Corvus's safety comes before anything," she said carefully.

"Well, we're alive, aren't we?" I muttered.

"Echo."

"Look at Kane," I said. "Look at Kane and tell me any of you would do anything different." No one spoke for a moment. I thought of Luan's fangs, his bloodied claws. The very memory made my blood re-boil all over again. I took a breath.

Kane said, "It doesn't matter." We all looked to him. He had his head tilted to the side, eyes closed, sleep still clinging to his eyelids. "It doesn't matter," he repeated. "I shouldn't have agreed to stay with them anyway, I know better. But it's over and Luan graduates this quarter, and we have Ramos. It doesn't matter."

"It does," Rosalie said. "We let this bastard go once, and as much of an idiot as Yun was—"

"I'm right here," I said.

"—we can't let him go on this twice."

"She has a point," Zahir said. "King."

Kane said, "It doesn't matter."

"He grabbed you," Diego argued. "It fucking matters. It damn well matters to us. I'm not gonna take a beer bottle to him, but we ought to press some kind of charge."

"Am I not right here?" I said.

Kane rolled his neck. "It doesn't matter."

"Why do you say that?" Meredith protested. "He's never going to stop if we don't make him, so let's make him, we have to do something. We have to at least try."

"If they guy is going around attacking whoever ticks him off," Wynter added, "that in itself is some bullshit. Maybe Yun has a point, why walk away?"

"King," Zoe said.

Kane opened his eyes. He got to his feet, and headed back for his room.

"No," he said firmly.

The door shut behind him.

No one was cruel enough to ask again.

Nobody had dared tell Coach about the night before if they could help it. Coach would lose her head with debating on which of us to smack across the face first, and technically, no matter who swung at who first, we were all partially to blame for having remained in the situation in the first place. Besides, I was too sick to my stomach over my idiocy to dare shift, even if only a little, to worry about anyone else knowing about what happened. Luan's words were a haunting ringing in my ear for the entire night and morning. But, compartmentalize, I suppose. One storm at a time, was the idea.

I had to go to Ramos eventually, considering she was the only one with the equipment to properly handle my injuries, and although I could have soothed them myself, I likely would pay the price for my shitty aid during the next match. Therefore, I forced myself to her office that afternoon.

"Come in," she called after my knock.

I went in. She turned around, took a look at me, and sighed. "Oh, Echo."

I handed her a box of almond croissants and coffee cake. "You free?"

It took an hour for her to properly stitch up my lip and brow, apply the proper salves to my open cuts drawn my messy claws, and meticulously bind each of my torn fingers. She resorted to ice patches and packs for my ribs, heat patches for my shoulder and arm. She never asked me to talk, only complimenting the pastries a few times over and asking me how my general health was going (as you can imagine, not fantastic). It was only at the end when she went to grab a few painkillers from her cabinet that she said, "You should tell your team about being an Omega, Echo."

I frowned. "What?"

"They should know," she said.

"I'm not helpless," I snapped. "We're not helpless, Ramos."

"I never said we were," she argued. Ramos sat down, handing me the pills and a bottle of water. "But there are some things that come with being an Omega to be aware of, and your team being in the dark could hurt you more than help you. This isn't about being helpless, Echo. It's about being aware."

"Slow healing, slow metabolism, what else do I have to know?"

"I'm worried about these constant, brute injuries. This isn't just racing you're putting your body through. Claw gashes, knife wounds, splitting knuckles. If you aren't careful and don't treat these right, you could go into heat."

I stilled. "What?"

"If certain foreign substances mix with Omega blood, something like Alpha blood or—God forbid—beryllium, it can trigger a response similar to that of sepsis," she explained, and pointed at the gashes on my cheek. "It's very rare, but heats can be very dangerous. You should be careful."

"They can't know," I protested. "It's bad enough I'm a Class III and a Stirling. An Omega, too. That's suicide."

"Corvus won't care."

"They will if they know I lied."

"Then don't lie."

I stared. She sighed. She said, "I think it's better if it comes from you than for them to have to find out some other way, that's all I'm saying." She frowned. "Trust your team, Echo."

It wasn't an issue of trusting them. It was the inevitable knowing that they could never trust me. All that blood on your hands. Who will you have to protect you then?

I flexed my bandaged hands. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my own fuck-ups, there was nothing there to feel better or make do with. But there was something else.

I said, "Why won't Kane do anything about what Luan did to him?"

Ramos paused. She looked unhappy to change the subject, but content that I talked at all, perhaps.She tore off her gloves and her mask. "Well, sometimes," she said, "when someone we love hurts us, we want to justify it somehow, you know? If you love someone, the last thing you want to do is admit they hurt you, or worse, that they're a hurtful person, because it means you might not be able to love them the same anymore."

Love? What love? The bruises on Kane's neck seemed to kill that word until it was as dead as the corpses I cut open.

"Kane can't seriously be protecting Luan," I said.

"He's protecting himself." Ramos handed me an extra roll of bandages. "It's easier to walk away sometimes, because you don't have to face the pain that hurt you so badly. I think Kane is afraid to admit a lot of hurt from Luan. They knew each other for a long time, and very closely. Some relationships like that, you never really stop living with them, you know?"

I hung my head. "Maybe," I murmured.

She said, "You can't change the past, Echo, not yours and not someone else's. You just have to do your best in their present. Don't be angry with him, or even Luan. Just be open."

I took the bandages, and left the pastries behind when I walked out.

"You knew that was his name."

I looked up from my perch on the counter. Zahir was at the fridge. It'd been two days since Fang Flower. Corvus seemed content to avoid each other for a reason I didn't entirely know. The tension from Kane seeped through every single interaction. Even dinners were quiet, nothing but the bare-boned chatter of fellow summer students there to fill the silence. Kane was sapped of all energy just by walking out of his room, as if his head was too heavy for his body to hold. Shadows clung viciously under his eyes and hung on for dear life against the waves of caffeine he swallowed down. Aside from practices—which were equally quiet, not even his usual commands available for us to hear anymore—he disappeared from sight. If I ever saw him, it was at night.

"It's because your bed is bigger," I told him as I lied down. "And, you look a little dead."

He shrugged. "Oh."

"Too close?"

"No."

"Corvus is like an abandoned puppy without you."

"They'll be all right."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"You look tired."

"So do you."

"Then we should sleep. You should sleep. Go to sleep."

Kane shrugged. "It's all right." So it was.

If Corvus had caught on that I had suddenly started sleeping between two beds, they didn't ask. We were too preoccupied with finishing off Green Diamond and keeping our names out of the press along with keeping Coach out of the loop on the Fang Flower incident. That being said, Corvus had been together for long enough to know certain things without asking.

I stared up at Zahir. I'd thought to treat myself to some grain cereal that was on the verge of going inedible in the back of the pantry, long forgotten from God-knows-who. Foolishly, I thought I could eat it and escape without anyone finding me beforehand. Foolishly.

I set my spoon down. "Er."

Zahir waited. Then said, "That he used to be Kitae."

I tugged at my collar. "Ah, that," I said. "I...overheard him and Luan talking, at the match. I asked him about it. He asked me not to tell you." Zahir pursed his lips, looking unhappy at that answer. I rubbed my eyes. "I'm sorry about the whole name thing. But it's his thing, not mine, I'm not gonna tell anyone if he doesn't want me to. Same goes for any of you."

Zahir considered me for a long, long moment. He said, "Why didn't he tell us? Even when Luan and him were dating, Luan called him Kane. I just never..."

I blinked. I didn't entirely know the best way to answer that, considering I wasn't Kane himself. But Zahir looked so lost that I felt worse about saying nothing at all.

"Honestly," I said, "I think it's just humiliation."

Zahir frowned. "How?"

I shrugged. "I don't really know everything about Kane's history, I'm pretty sure you know it better than me, but I think Kane feels like he screwed a lot of things up as Kitae, you know? Like, he wasn't someone he was proud of, so he just wants to start over, make things right for what he feels like he put Corvus through. When your old captain...when he took over as captain, he had a push to move on. Luan bringing it all back up, it's just for sake of humiliating him with shit he wants to forget," I said. "He respects you all. He doesn't want you to know him as anyone but Kane."

Second chances were sweet, rare fruits, once-in-a-lifetime treasures. If you found one, you were a fool and a half for passing it by. Kane was a racer, to his core, and a good one at that. And if you were a good racer, you knew how to take an opening when you saw one.

Zahir said, "You trust him?"

I said, "I think we understand some things about each other."

He cocked his head at that. "You ever gonna tell us everything about you?"

I smiled at him. I took a bite of my cereal. "For your sakes," I said, "I hope not."

Green Diamond's second match was far less dramatic, and plenty easier, having the whole team back. Kane was content to abandon his personal issues for sake of returning to his usual leading post. We were up against Arizona State University's Sun Devils, which, although containing one of the cooler racing team names in the world of D1 square racing, were twenty seventh overall in the country and ended up versing us on a last-minute schedule switch-up.

"Kind of cruel, really," Diego bragged. "We have to go out and beat them now."

Rosalie pushed him forward. "Just win the damn match."

We did, with minor injuries and only one foul, and no death round (thank the sweet, forgiving Lord). Although Coach had given us a strange look when our celebration was strangely mild.

"Hey, I know they're not your top team to verse, but at least have the sportsmanship to celebrate," she said as we made our way back to the locker rooms.

"We're just tired, that's all," Meredith tried. "Excited to head back home, though. We'll have to celebrate lots there. Right?" They all nodded. She glanced behind her. "King?"

Kane rubbed at his temples, his eyes. He turned towards the locker rooms and narrowly avoided the pillar holding up the archway courtesy of Kenzo yanking him away. Ramos hurried over, reaching to feel his forehead.

He turned away and pushed her hands off. He said, "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

"King," Edwards started.

But he was already walking back to the locker rooms, rings to the rows of metal lockers, leaving us behind.

Kenzo found me the Monday after the match.

I sat on the curb of the Talon's front street, a cigarette hanging from my fingers, the oncoming evening ready for me with blue eyes and pink cheeks. Corvus was running around left and right on their personal errands and endeavors, some going back and forth from home, others going back and forth from downtown or the high hills. I waited for dinnertime to draw me back into the Talon, but until then, the cigarette was my only company.

Kenzo said, "You, too?"

I glanced behind me. He stood a few feet from me, bleached hair blackened with overgrown roots, his eyes trained on my cigarette, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. He raised a brow.

I said, "By occasion."

Kenzo hummed. He sat beside me. I stubbed out the cigarette under my shoe's shiny sole. I said, "You're here to ask."

"Assuming."

I switched to Japanese. "I wish you wouldn't."

"That werewolf. You know her from your work," he said, not even hesitating. "Don't you?"

I knew it was too much to ask of the universe that no one saw me and the showgirl talk. Still, it didn't dilute the blow of that crippling question, nor did it quell the already-overflowing dread in my stomach. But, there was no place to hide, and no reason to lie, especially not with Kenzo. 

I settled for the truth. I thumped some breath back into my lungs. "You've got eyes in the back of your head," I muttered.

"You need some," he replied. Then said, "You know her."

I nodded. "I do."

"What work?"

"Non-disclosed work."

"Why's that?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Doesn't. Curious." Kenzo frowned. "Why does it matter?"

I pursed my lips. The last thing I needed on top of that terrible showgirl knowing anything was a member of Corvus knowing anything. What Kenzo had discovered about my work was already a considerable breach. Kane was on his way there. I needed to stay under the radar, not at eye level.

"Why do you care?" I sighed. "It's got nothing to do with you. And it won't jeopardize Corvus."

"I never asked if it would," he said, raising a brow.

"All right, then." I made a move to stand.

Kenzo said, "Kane trusts you."

I paused. I bit down on my tongue to keep the retort there. I said, "That's subject to observation."

"Then why'd he go home with you?"

"He didn't. Aster called the car."

"His name, then."

That fucking name. Secrets were serial killers, atomic bombs, their body count in the thousands. I saw the corpses pile up in front of me.

"I told you," I said. "I overheard him and Luan talking. That's the only reason I know."

"You asked."

"Afterwards, maybe."

"What're you so scared of?"

I gaped. Kenzo shrugged. He gestured at the phone in my pocket and got to his feet. "We're getting takeout for dinner," he said. "Text Diego what you want from House of Joy."

I watched him go. I said, "If you want to know something, you should just ask me outright and stop playing a goddamn checker game with me and call it a conversation."

Kenzo paused. The sun was unforgiving on him, blanching his portrait, hair too white and face too pale and eyes too bright. He looked ephemeral at best, ghostly at worst.

He turned to face me. "I want to know why you smell like death more than a person, and why you're a supposed student here but don't have a real record on file, and why you've got a name but not any ID, and why you've got a gun under your mattress with a laptop too encrypted for a normal person to have, and why you fight too well for someone your size, and why you've never changed without a long-sleeve already on, and why you've never spoken of family or friends or school, and why Kane trusts you." Kenzo gestured at me. "Now, go."

I stared. My blood went still in my veins, coagulating at the arteries and major veins, blocking off oxygen from all my limbs. I flexed my sore fingers. Blood dripped from them, staining every inch of my skin. Kane would never have said anything if Kenzo didn't already know, and the only people who had access to my files were Coach, Kane, and possibly Ramos. The verdict was nauseating.

I said, "You went through my stuff."

"You've been in a different bedroom lately," he replied, and I winced. "I didn't go through. I thought you kept your cigarettes under your mattress like King." Kenzo pointed at the pockets of my jeans. "Cash, a school card, half a dozen fake IDs. Your wallet changes. Contents don't. School didn't have your records. Neither did the city."

I was going to keel over onto the concrete. I had to hold my head, my temples burning under the weight of his words. I pushed my knuckles into my sternum as if to will my lungs into working.

"You..." I tried, then, "How long...?"

"Month or so." Kenzo looked relatively unfazed by his recount. He faced me with a blank face. "So. Answer."

"You didn't even bother asking?"

"Thought you had family business. Where's your family?"

"You shouldn't have gone through my things."

"You shouldn't have lied to our faces."

"I didn't—"

"If you won't answer anything else," Kenzo said, "then you can at least tell me just who the fuck you are, and what the hell you're really doing here."

I stared. I looked over towards where the street was filling with evening traffic, cars slowly pulling in to traverse the county's wide avenues and find their ways to steadily-growing bars, happening shops or stores, packed-in eateries. The world was a bitter, sickly, unkind blue.

I couldn't answer it. How could I? I wasn't anyone.

I was a ghost.

"I'm...a racer," I said. "I'm just here to race."

It would be the closest to owning a truth I could come to.

Kenzo narrowed his eyes. "You might not be Corvus's friend," he said, "but they are yours. You've chosen to join this team, so that's the responsibility you need to take. If you want to lie and hide, then do it. But don't play the honest man in between. Pick a side. Choose a vice."

"What's your problem?"

"You're making promises you can't keep," he said. There was a venom in his voice, a vitriol I'd never heard before. "You're promising them someone that doesn't exist."

I took a step back. Kenzo turned around.

"Text Diego," he said.

I said, "Don't tell Kane."

Kenzo paused. He said, "You have until the end of this season."

He walked away. The night devoured me from the inside out, damnation dressed in blue. If I was smarter, I'd be scared. If I was smarter, I wouldn't be standing there at all.

I forewent dinner and slept my secrets away.

__________________

I was the only one who had shown up for dinner, everyone else busy with their summer plans, their summer friends, their summer storms. July Fourth was tomorrow, and it meant many students were gone for sake of returning to family for patriotic celebration. Corvus had already told everyone dinner was cancelled, but considering I was in no mood to spend any money—nor position—and Cafe A was mostly empty anyway, I figured I'd go anyway. The distant sound of test fireworks exploding alongside convoluted nationalist soundtracks filled the quiet Avaldi.

I sat with a veggie burger half-eaten, fries uneaten, drink half-drunk. The air was heavy with pink heat, sticky with July's breath. I had the phone open before me on the table. Kane's Instagram profile filled the screen. I scrolled below the recents, farther and farther, until I reached the year prior. But the mosts were limited to half-hearted candids of unfamiliar seniors and a few of Diego or Rosalie or Meredith. If there was anything more before that, they weren't there to see anymore.

I swiped to his tagged posts.

Kane and Poppy posed behind a disposable camera lens, Poppy's face brighter than the sun and far more alive, Kane's smile far bigger than it was now. Kane and a group of Luan's friends along with several other strangers gathered around for a shot near a wintry cabin. Kane and Luan in a photo booth with nowhere but each other to lean into. Kane and former Corvus racers with a Red Diamond trophy above their heads, scarlet confetti around them. Corvus and Kane and Edwards posing for a NCAA celebratory article.

I closed the profile.

I'd rather just be Kane.

I ate the rest of my dinner alone.

Rosalie got sick of us the morning of the Fourth.

"Are we breaking up?" she asked us all, storming into our Saturday breakfast halfway through everyone's second helping of chocolate pancakes. "Are we never getting back together, like ever?"

Diego said, "Wait a minute, how'd you get in here?"

"It's the Fourth of July," she proclaimed. "Everyone stop being so fucking weird. Let's go celebrate. You all suck, you know that? I miss you and you all just sit here eating pancakes pretending your asses off like a bunch of men."

"You know," I said, taking a bite of the pancakes. "If I had a dollar for every unnecessarily aggressive affection Rosalie gave us without context, I think I'd be richer than Kane."

Kane flipped a pancake. "You think you're funny. You think you're funny and you're not."

Rosalie said, "Pay attention."

"Like men?" Zahir replied, and shook his head. "That's a tall order."

"You're all horrible beings."

Diego cackled. "Pot and kettle, yeah? Ow." Rosalie stole a pancake. Diego gaped.

Rosalie turned on us for our opinion. We looked to Kane.

Kane looked up from the pancakes. Over the week, he'd gradually lost the heaviness to his frame, his eyes easing their shadows, his skin losing the scent of cigarette smoke and slowly regaining the air of soap, although now unusually spiced with lavender. According to Zahir, he'd returned to the gym, but according to Meredith, hadn't returned to much talking. The bruises around his neck had faded now like disappearing ink, but the stain of it remained on the tentativeness of Corvus.

Kenzo said, "Are we going out?"

Kane set the spatula down. He considered us, then gave a small hum. "Where are we going?

There was no holiday that Corvus really consistently spent together considering half of their families were a drive away and the other half were in another state or even another country which subsequently left their schedules mixed amongst each other, so for once, there was no exact plan of celebrating the Fourth other than the goal of avoiding the heat.

It left us with the compromise of a picnic somewhere in the vicinity of LA's own beloved Griffith Observatory, a promised firework presentation available down below at a local street visible from its hills. It wasn't much of a typical picnic, considering it was Corvus and doing anything in a typical fashion was well against their ingrained nature, but it was still a hefty relief to have Corvus back to their usual dynamics after all the chaos of the week and a half prior.

I sat next to Kane in the back of Kenzo's car, his shoulder to the window, my head against the leather. I pointed at his shoes, terrifically glittery things that had no qualms against blinding eyes or planets altogether.

"Which ones are those?" I asked.

Kane didn't look at me, but said, "The McQueens Diego bet for me. I guess the guy finally dropped them off a week ago."

I couldn't help the laugh. "Admirable."

He shrugged, then gestured towards my shoes. I said, "Off-brand sneakers from Target."

Kane said, "As long as they're shoes."

"Really?"

"No, but sure." Kane's lip quirked. My chest eased like lead weights were being pulled off the bones. "What'd you bring for the picnic?"

"Something the whole universe can partake of with gladness." I opened my backpack to reveal an Arrowhead six pack. "Mul."

"You brought water?"

"Who brought water?" Rosalie called from the front. "I said food, not water. Because someone is already bringing water, Someone who is not Yun. Why did I just hear Yun say 'water'? Where's the 'and'? There'd better be an 'and'."

I hesitated. "And...my good ol' self."

"Who's gonna eat you?" Wynter scoffed. "I'd get more nutrition from Kane's organic-vegan-non-GMO-protein-packed-healthy-whore blueberry muffin shit."

"It's just vegan," Kane said. "You could have stopped there."

"We appreciate you looking out for our health," Zoe said with a nod. "Vigilantly."

Kane scoffed, snagging his bag of muffins to hold to his chest. "Then don't eat any. Ungrateful."

"Still waiting on that food item, Yun!"

"This is a goddamn plutocracy," I called.

Kane said, "Define plutocracy."

"Food item, Yun!"

"How about my ass—"

Kane wrapped an arm around my head, muffling my mouth. He said, "We both brought the muffins. Now stop yelling, for God's sake."

"Yeah, stop yelling," I said, although it was likely unintelligible being spoken into Kane's denim sleeve.

"Echo," Kane said softly.

"Yes?" I said.

"Shut up."

I broke free and yelled, "Plutocracy!"

"I'll crash this car," Kenzo told us. "Just the back right. Just that part."

And so on.

We got to Griffith another hour later, pulling up into the rocky parking hillside, a mess of families, friends, couples, and lone soldiers hiking their red, white, and blue asses up the steep incline to the crown jewel dome at the very top. July was like a weighted blanket over our bodies, hot to the touch, clingy and sticky with suckers. Blankets were already sprawled out on various sections of the grass. the city dotted with prismatic lights and ants of strangers, the buildings like silver waves sliced up by iron swords of bustling boulevards and striated streets.

Kane went to grab one of the coolers from the back trunk, but Zahir stepped in front of him and handed him three blankets instead. He gestured towards a gap of space in the green, farther towards the back of the Observatory, less bombarded by brush or bugs or people.

"Go with Yun, set up the blankets," he said. "We'll bring the rest of the stuff."

"I can help," Kane argued.

"You'll help by setting up," Meredith said.

"Lifting heavy things was never in the not-to-dos from Ramos."

"We've taken contextual liberty," Rosalie said. "Now go. You both are in the worst shape, to be frank, so take it easy and settle down. We'll bring the stuff. But, take those muffins." She raised a suspicious brow at the baked goods.

I knew better than to argue, and for Kane's sake, I figured I was better being agreeable. I took Kane's sleeve.

"Come on," I said. "Let's grab the spot before someone else takes it."

Kane looked perturbed to be relegated to such a task, but he followed me to the spot anyway.

I sighed. "You're not their mother, they're adults. Calm down."

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, man. Sure."

I laid the blankets out one by one. Kane set the muffins on the blanket farthest to the right before settling down. The evening light transformed his hair and eyes into something periwinkle blue, the same shade as his denim jacket and jeans. I sat down beside him. The most patriotic thing I owned was a white shirt with a strawberry Kuromi on it and a pair of blue jeans received from some obscure department store via Kane. I figured I wasn't really truly American as it was anyway, and took comfort in my half-hearted effort.

A little star dangled from Kane's ear, shimmering the same color as his eyes, when he said, "Have you ever celebrated the Fourth?"

I considered that. I said, "No. Have you?"

He shrugged. "Not intentionally."

"Does Corvus celebrate together?"

"If it times right. If not, they'll celebrate with family." Kane took out the muffins and popped open the top. He handed one to me.

I took it with a nod. "What's up with the Fourth anyway? Do you make a wish on the fireworks or something? Admit an embarrassing secret if you see Uncle Sam in the sky?"

The laugh that burst from Kane was at once relieving. I almost laughed with him. He took a muffin for himself.

"No," he said. "You don't do anything about the fireworks, you just watch them. It's like a barbecue party, but for the whole country, you know?"

"Good to know the blood of the Revolution is celebrated with ozone damage and burnt meat," I said.

Kane quirked a grin, pushing up the mole by his brow. "Americans know their party genre." He took a bite of the muffin. "You're welcome to admit an embarrassing secret courtesy of Uncle Sam if you want, though."

"Now you're just fucking with me." I tore off the top of the muffin to pop in my mouth. "Screw Uncle Sam, he looks like a meerkat anyway."

"Says the meerkat."

"Say that to my face."

Kane waved me off. He said, "Then, a flag. They always do a flag." He made a rectangular shape with his fingers. "Tell me something then."

"Whoa," I said through a mouthful of vegan muffin. "Who said I'm telling you? Could be telling someone else."

Kane waved me off. He popped the last of the muffin in his mouth and brushed the crumbs off on me. "Whatever. Admit your wrongdoings to who you want." But he smiled as he said it.

Corvus called behind us, "We bring sustenance!"

They set the coolers and lunch bags down on the blankets. Corvus scattered to their respective seating, three to a blanket, before they unveiled the food for the taking.

"This is the rookies' first Corvus picnic, huh?" Diego said with a grin.

Rosalie cocked a brow. "You say that like we have picnics at all."

"We did it once in our freshman year."

"Eating outside the cafeteria because it was too hot in the building is not a picnic," Zahir said.

"What'd I say about standing up for me no matter what comes out of my mouth?"

"I never agreed to nothing." Zahir unzipped the lunch bag, distributing out pre-made hot dogs around the group.

When he got to me, I shook my head, but he quickly assured, "It's veggie."

Having been packed in with all the other meat however left me unsure about the scent. I shook my head again. "Nah, it's okay. I'm not really hungry anyway."

"It's all veggie," Zahir said. I frowned. He said, "Thought we'd see who could make the best non-meat Fourth of July entree. We figured veggie burgers get old after a while."

I stared. Diego added, "And we wanna see what all this 'plant-based' hype is about, you know? I mean, I gotta see what's going on in these vegetarians' head at some point." He flipped open his lunch bag. "Vegetarian barbecue bowls. Hah! Beat that. Don't give me that look, Rosie, don't knock it before you try it."

She scoffed, pushing her bag towards him. "Veggie BLTs. Tastes just like the real thing, too."

"Been there, done that."

Meredith said, "I brought veggie fajitas."

"Vegan meatballs," Wynter countered. "I went the full nine yards there."

"Vegan gyros," Zoe countered.

"Aren't gyros already vegan?"

She paused. "Wait."

Kenzo said, "I'm the real water guy."

"Make Echo try them," Meredith said, ushering the bags towards me. "He's the veggie connoisseur, he'll know best so he'll be the judge."

I stared at them. I said, "Why?"

They paused. They looked between each other for a few moments, before Zoe piped up with an earnest, "Meat makes you sort of sick, you know?"

I blinked. I looked down at the entrees, nothing but the smell of freshly cooked veggies and aromatic spices there to greet my senses. My ribs pushed in on each other, squeezed my lungs out of their cavities, bombarded my heart beyond breathing. I pressed my knuckles into my chest.

"Oh," was all I managed. "Thank you."

Zahir smiled. "Don't mention it, man." He gestured at the steaming food. "Come on, let's dig in. Rosie brought an icebox cake for us to dig into, too."

I didn't know if I'd become more or less hungry, but I didn't care. Kenzo passed us all plates, and I let Corvus pile every single thing they wanted to onto mine with a smile.

Kane said, "Stop staring at your food like its a Nobel Prize and eat it."

I said, "Better than one." I took the fajita into my hand. I frowned at Kane's bare-boned plate. "And you're one to talk."

He shrugged, grimaced a bit. "Not hungry."

"You're gonna pass up vegetarian heaven?" I snickered.

Kane's grin was soft, pliable like pure gold. He pushed my plate to me, took a water to place in my lap. "Eat," he beckoned. "Tell me about your heaven."

If I'd seen a flag light up the sky in flames right then, I'd tell him it looked a lot like that very moment.

To everyone's surprise, the meatballs won.

"That's what I get for making this a democracy," Diego said, clenching his fist at the sky. "I should have bribed my way to his heart."

"With what, HELLO KITTY and gummy bears?" Rosalie snickered.

"Worked for you," Meredith said to Kane, who looked immediately distressed at the accusation.

I dug out another piece of the strawberry cake and said, "Rosalie—"

"Don't do it," she warned through a mouthful of strawberries and cream.

"—takes the cake on this meal."

Kane didn't even bother looking up from his plate of watermelon. "Spoken like a true meerkat."

"That is just cruel."

Rosalie glanced to Zoe. "Is this your first Fourth of July?"

She said, "First one I've legitimately celebrated. I usually just watch a few illegal fireworks go off from my friends' house since my family is still in Manchester."

"Little crows far from home," Diego said with a shake of his head. "First Fourth all around for the freshies?"

Wynter shook her head, and went on to explain her family's tradition of driving up Angela's Crest to see the fireworks from there. Zahir glanced to me after with, "And you?"

I said, "I don't usually celebrate."

Wynter frowned. "The Fourth?"

I paused. "Anything?" I shrugged. "Not like this, at least."

"How...do you celebrate then?" Meredith asked.

"Candy. Most affordable celebration," I said. "Sometimes I'd splurge on a Hostess cupcake."

"That's all?"

I shrugged. "I used to work at a convenience store, so that stuff was always readily available, and I got it cheaper than it already was. Made it easy."

"What about your birthday?" Zahir asked.

I hummed. "Hostess cupcake splurge, for sure."

They gaped. Zoe said, "You're kidding. You've never had a birthday party?"

Me being alive had been my party. Just having made it another year intact was enough of a celebration in itself, really. I just shrugged. "Never needed one."

Corvus looked amongst each other with that silent communication traded between them. Kane said, "Don't you want one?"

I considered that. I said, "I don't need one," which was a good enough answer in my logic. "Forget about it, I'm celebrating now, you know? With a veggie spread to go with it." I grinned. "When are the fireworks on?"

It was a clumsy shift of conversation, but Corvus seemed to get the memo and acquiesced, turning around to look over the hill and track the streets for any trace of smoke or sparks. Kane remained the only person who still looked at me.

Before he could find a comment to make though, Zoe lurched over me and pointed down at the streets, exclaiming, "Look, look! Tester!"

We all turned our eyes.

The singing trail of a single, golden firework shot up from down below, flying up, up, up until it struck the carbon black sky, and exploded into a burst of dissipating sparks. A mini supernova, ephemeral and humanized.

I blinked, feeling the sparks linger in my pupils. I swore I could feel the heat of it on my skin, the delayed pop of the gunsmoke and chemicals still ringing in my ears. The wind smelled of burning oxygen and dying embers and damp July.

Cheers erupted from the crowds above and below in an urge to pick up the pace. I thought of my mother lighting candles on a cake, of my father striking a key against the trace metals of a lycan's bare skin, of me flicking on a lighter for the first time just to watch the flame lick the end of a fresh cigarette, of a body going up in flames as it hit the incinerator to burn up into nothingness.

I thought of a racer's cleats against the concrete, leaving fireworks in their wake. I thought of Kane's black-boned, blue-flamed eyes.

I waited for the next firework to find me.

"I never thanked you," Kane said.

The words tore my attention away from the impatient night sky. I frowned at him, even if he wasn't looking at me. "What?"

"I never thanked you," he repeated. "For what happened, at Fang Flower." He took my pause with grace. "For coming to find me, that is."

I shook my head, my smile bitter. "Don't thank me. If anything, I probably just made everything worse by finding you."

"No," he said. "No, I think...it all would've been worse if you didn't."

I felt the cool glass in my hand, the warmth of blood running over my fingers. I said, "You can thank me by never seeing the guy again."

Kane went quiet. He said, "Some history is difficult to forget."

I hummed at that, then said, "I thought you were into making your own."

Kane glanced at me. I waved it off, grabbing a piece of watermelon from his plate and popping it into my mouth. The next firework shot off into the sky like a flare, like a rocket, colliding with the stars in a great explosion of red and white sparks traveling every which way.

I said, "Corvus isn't angry with you, you know." Kane frowned, but didn't answer. "About your past, or even with what comes back from your past."

Kane bit his lip. "They probably should be."

"Maybe. Maybe not." I gestured towards them. "But you can't punish yourself on someone else's behalf."

"I should own what I did and do."

"You don't have to prove anything to someone like that."

"I'm not."

"Then, why go back?"

He went quiet. The next fireworks went up three in a row, green and blue and pink, stars breathing and dying in the same breath. The sweetness of the muffins and the cake made the air saccharine and grainy.

Kane pulled up his knees and rested his chin atop them, sighing with a smile that was more sad than it was mirthful. "Sometimes," he murmured, "I think you hurt my head so much that one day, I'll lose all my thoughts completely."

I frowned. "Kane King, losing thoughts?" I shook my head. "Bet it's like losing your damn lungs."

"How would you know?"

I shrugged. "I don't. I just imagine it feels a lot like talking to you."

"Suffocating?" he scoffed.

I shook my head. "Startling," I admitted quietly. Like you didn't realize what you couldn't live without, until it's holding you right at the throat. "It's honest."

Kane hummed. He said, "It's honest."

Fireworks bloomed like electric flowers, a garden on fire, the sky full of momentary suns and shooting stars. I watched Corvus glow beneath it, their words as bright as the sailing explosions, their eyes mirrors of the manmade embers. I wondered if this was as close as I'd ever get to seeing a star face to face. Sitting beside Corvus, I knew I'd gotten closer.

They'll be your team if you let them be. 

The firework was a great, big burst of color, an explosion of perfect gold and purple, violet as lavender and shimmering like rare metals. I watched it through Kane's eyes, the glow of it over his cheeks and nose, the shadows hiding in the curve of his upturned lips.

You're promising someone that doesn't exist.

The final firework reached for the moon. Right before it could find its crust, it burst into a great big rectangle, a perfect red, white, and blue; a flag waving above its respective country, glittering on its way down.

I said, "What's your secret?"

Kane tilted his head. He said, "I sleep better when you're there."

Aim. Fire. Collision. Burst. Burn. Ache. Ache. Ache. Ache.

I felt the world strip my lungs from my chest, and leave me with Kane to fill the empty space.

I said, "I speak better when you're here."

Kane's grin was the best-kept secret of the lower west coast. Seeing it for myself, I knew I'd have to take it with me to my grave.

I listened to the fireflies of dying fireworks flutter into the wind, summer a bloodless crescendo around me.

(ah this was done in a fit of a fever dream, i swear, so i only remember about half of what's really happening. i am back from my travels, so this story will return to its usual updating schedule. ty for reading !!  )