For exactly thirteen days, I was haunted by my phone. The blank notification panel mocked me. The read receipt from eleven-thirty that night reminded me of my mistake.

I told Melody the next morning after it all happened.

I expected ridicule, some comment about how I shouldn't have let it happen.

Instead, Melody threw her arms around me and held me tight while I cried. Her hands brushed through my hair and along my back rhythmically until my breathing slowed. 

When she pulled back, all she said was, "That boy lost a girl who would've loved him with every broken part of herself."

I carried that with me for days, desperately trying to convince myself that it was his loss. Like I wasn't the one shattered by his disappearance.

Melody and Ronnie acted as my "parents" since I couldn't bear to face my mom. She called a few times in the past two weeks, but I let each one go to voicemail. But, being the woman she was, she didn't push me.

Melody, on the other hand, took pride in it.

"You should send him a badass breakup song and tell him he ain't shit." She posed in an attempt to look intimidating, but it came off as ridiculous.

"I don't think that's the answer, babe," Ronnie said, setting a plate of spaghetti in front of her. "Eat before you make any more great suggestions."

She glared at him but still accepted a fork.

He looked over at me expectantly. "You sure you're not hungry?"

"I'm fine, Ronnie," I said, standing up from the table. "I'm actually tired. I think I'll head home—"

"NO!" Melody stumbled out of her seat to block the kitchen door. "We haven't figured out what to do about Mr. Asshat yet!"

I sighed. "Mel, it's fine. I'll meet you at the bar tomorrow and we can talk about it more over shots. I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight."

She pouted at me. "Really?"

"Yes really. I think I can manage one night in the house."

Five days ago, Melody insisted that I started staying with her for my "protection." What she meant was, "Let's camp out in Ronnie's house for days, so we can gossip and eat Doritos all night."

Though it sounded stupid, it was exactly what I needed.

For about three out of those five days.

Today dragged on because I wanted nothing more than to hide in my room with Nemo. At Ronnie's house, one or both were always around, checking on me and asking questions. I loved Melody like a sister, but I couldn't cry in front of her again.

And I desperately needed to.

Melody must've seen that because she sidestepped into Ronnie's arms and let me pass.

"Come back soon, Nini," she said softly, but I heard, 'I'm here for you'.

I appreciated both sentiments.

Ronnie nodded silently, telling me in his own way that he was there, too.

The drive back to the house felt like years, even though Ronnie lived a few blocks over. I hadn't spoken to Brook or Rye since graduation, and I dreaded the day I would. Everything changed the second I stood up to them and they knew it. Rye lost his personal cheerleader and Brook lost her doormat. I gained the part of me I never should've lost.

In my effort to avoid Brook and Rye, I avoided Major, too. Beyond a few texts, I hadn't talked to him in a while either. But I intended to change that; I'd lost enough people already.

He was in the living room when I walked in, almost like he was waiting for me. He looked worn out, slumped on the couch and still in his suit.

"Long day?" I asked, leaning against the archway.

He gave me a lazy smile, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. "Long month."

"It's not over yet."

"Eleven more days, whatever." Rolling his eyes, Major yanked on his tie until it fell from his neck.

I inched into the living room, settling against the arm of the couch. "Do you get a break, at least?"

"Kind of. There's this work retreat — a summer camping trip — at the beginning of June." He waved his hand, shrugging. "Nothing huge."

"That's something, at least."

He rocked his head back and forth, as if considering the alternative of staying home in the Cold War. "I guess. I'd rather sleep for a year."

"That's how I felt junior year, remember?" I shook my head at the memory of strictly seven a.m. classes. "I still want to cry thinking about it."

He laughed. "I know. Who helped you study until two in the morning?"

"Lucky you, there's no more of that now."

His eyes flashed, a sad smile settling on his face. "No, I just never see you at all anymore."

"May . . ." I slid off the arm to sit beside him, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sor—"

"It's okay, Nini. I'm not mad at you. I know all this has been . . . tough."

I went silent for a second, wondering what he'd heard from his brother and Brook about the fight. "I promise I wasn't trying to cut you out."

"I know. Just remember that I'm always here for you. Whatever you need."

That was Major, always there when I needed him. For years, he'd been the one I leaned on when I couldn't stand on my own. And he made me believe that one day I could.

This time around shouldn't have been different. I should've called on Major the night it happened, like every other time, but I didn't.

I couldn't.

He was constantly helping me through my bad decisions — Rye, prom, and every guy in between. I couldn't saddle him with yet another failed romance, no matter how much I ached to.

Excusing myself, I faked a smile all the way up the stairs, barely keeping the tears at bay.

It was easy to forget around Melody and Ronnie, people who made it their mission to distract me. But in this house, where it all began, around people who saw how happy I was to know him . . .

I held my hands over my mouth, muffling the sobs I couldn't hold back anymore. I passed their door as silently as I could, knowing if I saw even one that I'd break down entirely.

I made it to my room seconds before a whimper broke through my fingers. My legs shook, struggling to keep me upright. I leaned against the door in an attempt to catch my breath, tears spilling down my cheeks.

I felt pathetic for crying over a guy, especially a guy who wasn't mine. I'd never seen his face, yet he had a hold on me stronger than Rye ever did.

And that terrified me.

↠

For the first time in weeks, I fell asleep watching a Dream video. More specifically, the first I'd ever seen from him. His voice echoed in my ears as I blinked in and out, healing my heart and breaking it at the same time.

Melody worked overtime to keep me away from anything Dream-related — his socials, videos, everything. But without her around, I couldn't help but crave his presence.

    He appeared in a flash of light, his smile brighter than the sun that surrounded him. He lifted his arms, holding them wide open for me.

For me.

I walked toward him in a trance, tears spilling down my cheeks. Eventually, I broke into a sprint, dashing through the field to jump into his waiting arms.

He whispered breathy apologies in my ear, his hands tracing every part of my body, memorizing it.

Through broken sobs, I pleaded for him to come back. I said it over and over again into his chest, gripping his shirt like it was my lifeline.

He held me just as tightly, refusing to let go even when he said, "I can't."

Real life set in seconds before I woke up, ripping him away from me.

I couldn't fall back asleep, even though my body was wracked with exhaustion. So, I stared at my phone, waiting. Every logical part of me said he wasn't coming back, that my feelings ruined our friendship. But my heart continued to beat for him.

Melody wasn't impressed when I told her about the dream. Her exact words were, "I'd say to keep following your heart, but that bitch gives bad directions."

Needless to say, I didn't mention how I fell back asleep.

She ended the phone call with a reminder to meet at her favorite club at nine sharp and to wear something sexy. She hung up before I could ask what she had planned.

I stayed in bed through lunch, burrowed in the pile of blankets on my bed. Major came by on his break to bring me what he called "breakup food." For once, I was grateful for his observant mind.

He sat with me as long as he could, cheering me up with bad jokes and stupid stories. For that hour, I forgot about why I was sad. I forgot about Clay entirely.

Until Major left for work and I was alone again.

Bad texted me while I moped around my room, but I couldn't answer. I couldn't face any of them — Bad, Nick, George, even Tommy. Each had reached out at least once, but their days-old messages sat unopened in my phone. I couldn't admit that I stupidly fell for someone with a girlfriend.

By eight-thirty, I desperately needed a drink.

↠

I was three shots in when Melody walked up to the bar, with Ronnie in tow.

Her eyes flickered between the empty cup in my hand and my face. She looked over her shoulder at Ronnie, whose concerned face mirrored hers.

"You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, taking the free seat next to me.

I nodded sluggishly, staring into my empty glass. "It's all gone . . ."

"How many have you had?" Ronnie stood behind me, the two effectively creating a barrier around me.

I shrugged.

"At least let me catch up," Melody said, holding her hand out for the bartender.

Ronnie smacked her hand, shooting her a glare. "You don't know how much she drank!"

With a raised eyebrow, Melody looked between Ronnie and me. "At least three, maybe four. She's a lightweight, remember?"

"No, I'm not!" I protested, wobbling in my seat.

"You are, darling. Hate to break it to you," she shot back, patting my knee.

My lower lip quivered.

She sighed, ordering another despite Ronnie's disapproval.

I cheered when the bartender slid the full glass my way, downing half of it before Melody could lift her own to her lips.

Ronnie pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tonight is going to be interesting."

And it was.

Six shots in, I could barely keep my head up. Thoughts swirled around in my head, my vision blinking in and out. Melody's vibrant hair stuck out in the blur, bobbing around as she moved.

She suggested dancing, to Ronnie's dismay. He had succeeded thus far in preventing either of us from leaving his sight. The bar and its drinks kept our attention until Melody's favorite song blasted over the speakers.

Melody bounced off to the dance floor without warning. In a panic, Ronnie ran after, leaving me at the bar alone.

My phone found its way out of Melody's purse and into my waiting hands. She had swiped from me the second she got to the club, saying pain plus alcohol equals poor judgment.

I didn't care.

Through an alcohol-induced trance, I found what I was looking for. My fingers hovered above the keyboard, itching to say anything.

"Lani!"

My phone was plucked from my hands, slipping back into Melody's purse on the bar. Ronnie, with Melody hanging off him, grabbed the purse and threw it over his shoulder.

"Hey!" I shouted, waving my hands through the air.

"Sorry, Lani," he said, "but you know it's for the best—"

A low ping escaped from Melody's purse, making my heart pick up.

Begrudgingly, Ronnie maneuvered Melody in his arms to check the notification. When he clicked the phone on, his face dropped.

"What? Who is it?"

"No one. It's no one."

"Please, Ronnie."

His eyes locked onto mine, searching them until he finally sighed in defeat. "Don't kill me when you sober up."

I didn't waste a second when he handed it off to me.

Today 12:55 AM

Prince <3
i miss you too.