Ari's POV

I had never understood Kay's exhilaration at the prospect of being home alone. Where she had described euphoria, I could feel my pulse quickening, anxiety building towards a crescendo at the thought of spending hours with only my own thoughts for company.

Yet today, I welcomed the smell of stale air and Hanna's exhilarated yapping as I opened the door to my otherwise still apartment, relishing in the lack of questioning I wouldn't have had the power to eloquently answer, if only for the time being. I had never been gladder for my parents' insatiable need for weekly amicable visits to various friends over the weekends.

Taking my converse off and stepping into the kitchen, I grabbed an apple off the dining table, munching on in speedily on my way to the window, hastily opening it before briskly walking towards my room. Although I had skilfully managed to avoid any clock on my way, I subconsciously knew I would most certainly be late and had the urge to slap myself for wasting so much time aimlessly talking with Nate about anything and nothing substantial at the same time.

Realising I was pacing, I forced myself down onto my bed, fresh red sheets crinkling, startling Hanna with the forceful act, who now cocked her head to the side as if to ask What's the matter?. She had followed me throughout, closer than a shadow, tail wagging animatedly. Well, at least someone's excited about something.

I supressed a sigh as I picked up my foundation and pocket mirror, proceeding to cover up my face and neck, gently patting it in onto the tender skin, then downright rubbing it onto my neck, watching my bruises turn from the deep mottled purple to dark shadows. If I were meeting anyone else, I would've been satisfied with that result. Yet I wasn't certain a single flimsy layer of foundation would hold under Kay's intense scrutiny, and the way I held my neck a bit too rigidly would undoubtedly tip her off faster than I could think up a credible lie, rising questions which would only aggravate the situation.

But why lie? It would be false to say my first thought was to tell her the truth, and the reason for which my mind had instinctively chosen to lie to her so easily had plagued me for the better part of the day. It wasn't fear of being judged, not really. I think I just might not be ready for what she would definitely propose. A restraining order, at the very least. I don't think I'm ready to accept how much I need one, and most importantly, sit back and consider how much I truly want one.

I only realised how aggressive my rubbing had become when I felt myself gag, coughing up bitter bile and the taste of unsweetened green tea which only served to make me nauseous. I took time I didn't currently have to steady my breathing, picking up the mirror discarded on the bed to examine the end result and was pleasantly surprised to see that they had vanished completely, invisible from any angle I could muster strength to turn my head in.

I raised a hand towards my neck, intending to touch it, but stopped myself midway, a grim smile spreading over my face as I thought better of it, picking up my mascara instead and snakingly applying it, before deeming my face lively enough for conducting some basic human interaction. I opted for an equality t-shirt to replace my tea stained one, featuring the pride flag, and dungarees, hoping that wearing an outfit she'd called "impossibly cute" on various occasions would ease the tension.

As I tossed by black jeans aside, I saw the piece of paper with Veronica's number scribbled on it flutter to the ground, almost blending in with the cream fluffy carpet. My first thought was to throw it away. I've never been the type of person to text someone who is next to a stranger (with some notable exceptions), although the said stranger might have just kept me from an untimely death.

However, I couldn't shake off her words as she placed the crumpled piece of paper into my palm, and the blatant offer in them. I've been in your shoes before. Although I wasn't sure I would ever be able to truly talk about everything that had gone down between Gage and me, I knew that even if I wanted to, no one but someone who had lived through something similar could be able to understand, and help me move on. So I shoved it into my phone cover before I could talk myself out of it, laying down the many reasons or which a complete stranger would have no desire to listen to me rant about my issues, no matter how good-natured or kind.

As I was tying my white sneakers, Hanna realised I was leaving and began whining, going as far as pawing the side of my leg gently, eyes wide and pleading. "Yeah, I don't really want to leave either" I muttered under my breath as I bend down to give her a well-deserved scratch behind her ears, before grabbing my keys and dashing out of the door, the time flashing on the hallway's digital clock flashing before my eyes like the image of a frozen tv screen. 13:02. I'm already late.

Kaylah's POV

I could tell I was decidedly annoying the barman by restlessly tapping my nails onto the bar counter, watching as they caught the light of the overhead neon, flashing from fluorescent green to greenish yellow. My mom acted as if she were okay with my outstanding colour choice, but I didn't miss the way her left eye began twitching as soon as her eyes landed on my nail polish, which is exactly why I had chosen it. Of course, part of the reason was that Ari had deemed it fun, and such a word coming from her is rare at best, so I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

Just as I was certain the barman would muster the strength to say something about my obnoxious finger tapping, I opted to give him a break and instead checked my watch, right hand worrying my earring between my fingers as I noticed it was already 15 past 1. I regretted my choice of dangling earrings when I began tugging on them slightly too forcefully, my stare pinned on the glass panels lining the right-hand side wall paving the way to the bar's main entrance.

I felt compelled to shoot her another text, and so I did without much thought, most likely sounding slightly too demanding and definitely concerned, which I couldn't negate I was. Despite hearing her voice just a couple hours prior, something had felt undeniably off. I can't pinpoint if it was her strained chuckle, too high voice, the constant audible swallowing, or a combination of the three that made me impulsively push for meeting her an hour past noon in late august. But I couldn't bring myself to regret it, even as I was sweating through every pore despite the air conditioning working overtime.

I was seriously debating whether I should try ringing her, when I saw her car in the corner of my eye, pulling up cautiously and meticulously in the only available parking spot. From here, I could tell it wasn't a perfect park, which surely grated on her perfectionist tendencies, but to her credit, she didn't take the time to realign it.

I felt suddenly nervous, like I usually did before speaking in front of a big crowd, hands playing with a loose thread in my jeans as I forced myself to relax into the bar stool, watching her walk in and immediately freeze, eyes searching. Instinctively, I raised my arm to beckon her over, and she obliged, gait slow but determined.

"You sure took your time Ari." I opted for a pointed stare, hoping to guilt trip her into telling me exactly what had gone down the night prior. Because there is no way in hell everything went "fine".

"Well, you didn't exactly give me much time to work with," her statement was blunt, and her attempt to replicate our typical banter so familiar I almost slipped back into our own little routine of metaphorical jabs and pushes, which always seemed to come so easily to us. But not today.

"Not answering any of my phone calls or texts for a whole night should make you feel at least slightly indebted to put in the effort and meet me on my terms" I hadn't meant to sound as hostile as I did, and I saw her fingers spasm on her phone currently resting face up on the counter. Knowing she was listening despite not meeting my stare I pushed on.

"I'm going to be frank. You and Nathan probably had a hell of a night, and I'm really proud of you for finally renouncing Gage. But I need to know what happened to make you do that." I said let it all out in a single breath, distantly wondering if it had sounded as rehearsed to her as it did to me.

"Nate. Call him Nate from now on, he actually doesn't like ti much when people use his whole name."

"Is that all you have to say?" I gave her an incredulous stare, and at the tone of my voice she looked up, smirking like the Cheshire cat she is. That little bitch.

"Kay, just forget it. I simply realised my priorities had changed. After texting Nate for the better part of the game, I realised that Gage and I have long passed the point of no return," she sounded so sure of herself I might've actually believed her, if it weren't for the smile she gave me at last, before returning her attention to the gin and tonic I had ordered her for prior. Ari never smiles like that. My suspicion might sound completely bogus to someone who doesn't know her, yet to someone who had spent more time talking to her then even her own family, it was completely plausible.

For the better part of the hour, I contemplated the best way to push further and pry the words I had to hear out of her without causing her to completely lock me out as she almost always did when I became too inquisitive for her taste.

My opportunity didn't emerge until we got the check, and I offered to pay since she had come at my request, point at which she excused herself to the bathroom.

"Don't bother taking your phone lest you drop it. I'm sure dear Nate isn't going to text in the next five minutes." I tried to sound slightly teasing, aiming to divert her attention from the odd demand. I didn't have to try too hard though, as she seemed to be so lost in her own head that she didn't give much more than a nod and a faint chuckle, making a beeline for the restroom.

Most people would feel guilty about opening and looking through their best friend's phone without permission, and I myself often lectured people on the concept of personal space and privacy. So call me a hypocrite for lacking any type of remorse at intruding her privacy if you will, but I was certain she hadn't been truthful about last night.

By the way her eyes glossed over every time I had alluded to Gage in our conversation, it had to be something significant. Something she, for some reason, was reticent to tell me.

When after almost 3 minutes my search had yielded nothing more than proving my theory that she indeed hadn't spent the entirety of the game conversing with Nathan (the only text I could find from last night was sent about 10:38 pm, and was left unanswered), I decided the phone had no more answers to provide, I clicked it close, and set it back onto the counter face down.

It only took me a couple seconds to realise she never places her phone screen down, and went to turn it the other way around, anxiously looking over my shoulder for any sign of a long ponytail and dungarees.

However, a piece of paper stuffed into the phone case piqued my interest, and I pulled it free, only to find a phone number and the name Veronica written down in black pen. I racked my mind for anyone she might know named Veronica and came out empty handed.

Who might you be? Ari was definitely not the type of person to go out of their way to socialize, or even engage in any kind of socializing if not completely necessary at all, mind you. So I couldn't logically explain how some girl's phone number had ended up in her possession, but I was definitely going to make finding out my priority.

I quickly pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the phone number, carefully slipping the paper back into the phone case. If the barman (Alex, if the nametag was to be trusted) noticed anything amiss or strange, he failed to point it out.

"Do you still want that ride home?" she spoke as she walked, grabbing her phone and carelessly placing it in her pocket, walking towards the exit and forcing me to follow.

"It would save me from paying for an overpriced taxi ride, so why not."

If our roles where reversed, I'm not certain Ari would have phoned a random girl with no real basis of knowing if she really had any knowledge of what had gone down. Luckily, I'm have no qualms with phoning strangers and making strange demands. Like asking them to recall if they had seen a girl with long auburn hair and dressed in monochrome who goes by the name of Ariana between the hours of 9 pm and 12 pm yesterday.