MY CHEST CAUGHT. MY breaths came out in short, uneven little pants, and I almost moved towards her—almost answered that unspoken question.

     Yes, I thought. You're worth it. You're worth the risk.

      I said, "When you asked me, a while ago, why I hated you, I said I didn't. And . . . I don't. And I know I let you walk away, and I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but I—I want to be friends. If you want that, too."

      "Friends," she murmured.

      "Just friends. And . . . no more being assholes to each other. And no more arguing or—"

       "I like arguing with you."

       I blushed. "No more . . . no more hatred and avoiding and . . . secrets. I'll be honest with you if you're honest with me."

        Monroe's eyes darkened. "Talia, that's a promise you're not willing to uphold, so don't bother making it."

        Honesty. Maybe she was right. Maybe I hadn't been entirely honest with her—or anyone.

        Especially myself.

        "Okay," I agreed. Because I still couldn't be honest with her. Not yet. "But we'll be—friends. We'll do things friends do."

        "What do friends do?"

        Kiss. "Um. They drink hot chocolate and walk around and"—I thought of Olivia—"they do face masks and bathbombs together."

        "Okay," she said.

        "Okay?"

        "Okay." Her grin was sharp, but her lips looked so soft. "We'll be friends."

        "Friends," I repeated, and I couldn't help it—I smiled too.

        "Kingston!" barked the shrill voice of Mrs. O'Hara. "Decker! Get back to your respective rooms!"

        I backed away from Monroe, but my eyes held hers. And as I ducked down the hallway and started running, I couldn't stop thinking of it: Friends.

        I'd never thought that word would feel like a glow, blooming in my chest, all the way to my fingertips. But God fucking help me, it did.

       ON OUR SECOND DAY AT THE resort, I found myself with Skylar at a spa.

       "I never asked," I said, "but how on earth is Lila Bard here?  Like, here here? She's not even a student anymore."

       "Oh, I booked her a room," Skylar told me breezily. "She's not in the school area, but that just made our midnight rendezvous all the more exciting."

        A midnight rendezvous?

       "Your life sounds like a movie," I said. "Fuck. Maybe you're the main character."

       She only laughed. Our feet were both soaked in warm, foaming water, and we had already chosen nail polish colours: red for Skylar and pale pink for me. The spa had actually been a great idea. Not that I would ever tell her that.

        "So," I said, humming a bit. "What do you think of . . . ah . . ." I felt so relaxed now that the words slipped away.

        "Have you seen Claudia?" Skylar asked. "I think she has a girlfriend."

        All traces of relaxation vanished. I startled upwards. "A girlfriend? Claudia?"

        "Yeah. I saw her hanging out with this cute little freshman. Amita or something."

       "They could just be . . ."

       "Friends?" Skylar snorted. "Yeah, right. That's what my mom used to call Barbara Santos and me—friends. That woman was my sexual awakening."

       "Um, isn't Barbara Santos your mom's friend?"

       Skylar leaned back, fingers splayed onto the counter, as the attendant began painting her nails red. "Sure, at first."

       "Oh, my God," I said. "You had a MILF."

       Her smirk was so self-satisfied I had to reach over and smack her. "Hey!" she cried. "How do you think I know how to give girls mind-blowing orgasms? Skill, baby. And Barbara."

       "Holy fuck."

       "Also, should I go intimidate Claudia's girlfriend? I feel like I should. I haven't bullied any freshmen in awhile."

       "Go ahead," I told her. "Claudia would probably be honored if it's coming from you."

       EVEN MY SISTER HAD A girlfriend?

       Hours later, sitting by the fireplace with Sappho's Completed Works, I nestled deeper into the leather of the couch. The colour was so lovely—the colour of a ripe pomegranate, lush with juice.

        But I couldn't stop thinking about Claudia and Amita.

        What would it be like, I wondered, to call someone my girlfriend?

        The word brought me a little squeeze of joy. An almost unbearable excitement. Wouldn't it be so . . . sweet to call someone your girlfriend? 

        Girlfriend. Girlfriend. I had never noticed what a beautiful word that was.

        At my thigh, a text message buzzed. 

        Skiing on the Daredevil Mountain right now. I'll be back in time for dinner. I love you.

        I love you, I typed back. 

       Send it. Just fucking send it. It's not a big deal. 

        "Hey," said Monroe. 

        My phone fell out of my fingers, landing somewhere on the floor. I scrambled out of my position to find it, but so did Monroe. Both of us were on the floor—I was crawling, she was crouching.

        We looked up at the same time.

        In the light of the fireplace, the edges of her face were gilded in warm colour. Her lips were painted in shades of flickering gold. If I fell into her, if I stumbled just a little closer, we'd be kissing.

       I looked down. My phone was right between us.

       She was the first to reach it. When she pulled back, handing it to me, I hoped the fireplace masked my blush. Had she seen the I love you I couldn't bring myself to send?

      "Thanks," I said, standing up. "You didn't have to."

       "Friends, right?" she murmured.

       "Yeah." I swallowed. "Friends."

        "How about, as friends, we go for a swim tonight? 12 a.m."

        "At the pool? When does it close?"

        She grinned. "It doesn't."

        "SO I'M MEETING MONROE tonight," I told Claudia pointedly, sitting on the bed of her hotel room. Unlike Olivia and I, she had a view of the parking lot, covered in fresh snow. "At the swimming pool."

        Claudia clapped a hand over her mouth. "You're kidding."

        "No, I . . . I told her we should be friends. No more enemy business, no more hating each other."

        Claudia's stare seemed to say, You never hated each other. I ignored it. 

        "Do you want to call Aaron?" she asked. "Or should I?"

        "Why on earth would we call Aaron?"

        She exhaled through her nose. "So you can break up with him, obviously."

        "You want me to break up with my boyfriend, and then go fuck Monroe in the ski lodge's swimming pool?"

        "I'm so glad you're getting it."

        "I'm not going to—" Wordless, I tried to think of why this was a bad idea. "I can't just—I don't know. Break up with him. Christmas was like three days ago."

        "And?" She pulled up Aaron's contact on her phone. "The problem is?"

        "I love him! I can't break up with him. He's my best friend."

        "Talia. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life dating a boring straight dude?"

        "He's not boring," I argued. "Have you seen our fake proposals? We have great chemistry."

        "Are you even sexually attracted to him?"

        I spluttered, "You're my sister!"

        Claudia hummed. "That's a no, then. How do you feel about marrying him? Growing old with him? Having his . . ." She wrinkled her nose. "Sorry, I got grossed out. How do you feel about having his babies?"

        "He's . . . um, it's occurred to me."

        She threw up her hands. "See! It shouldn't just occur to you. If you're in love, you should just fucking want all that stuff. And you're not in love with Aaron, you're in love with Monroe."

       "You're crazy. That's way too fast. I don't . . ."

       "Fine. Maybe you're not in love with her. But you're getting there. You're halfway into love, if that's a thing. How do you feel about her?"

       "She's . . . I don't know. She's Monroe."

       Claudia shook her head, honey-blonde hair swishing over her shoulders. "You want to make her babies. I can tell." I opened my mouth to protest, but she just cut me off. "I've heard you moaning Monroe's name in your sleep. Shut the fuck up."

       Point given. "But it doesn't matter. It's not like I could ever . . ."

       "Talia!" Claudia looked like she was ready to rip out my hair. "I know Mom and Dad fucked you up with all their stupid, passive-aggressive commentary about being gay. But that's enough!  If you don't put on your big-girl pants, break up with Aaron, and go get your girl, I will!"

       "You'll get with Monroe?"

       "No," said Claudia, and she pressed the Call button on Aaron's contact. "I'll break up with Aaron."

       Then his number was ringing, I was launching myself at her, and Aaron's voice was saying, "Hello?"

       "Aaron," Claudia said, wrestling the phone closer to herself as I tackled her. "Hi. It's so nice to hear from you. I actually have something—"

       I tickled her, and she let go of the phone with a gasp.

      "Hi, Aaron, babe," I said. "Just ignore her. Go back to skiing. I'm fine. We're fine. This was just a stupid—"

      Claudia kicked my face, and the phone went flying across the room. I heard Aaron say, "What? What's going on?"

      "Talia has something she wants to tell you!" Claudia yelled, climbing over the bed to reach the phone. I dragged her back by her feet, but she grabbed a pillow at the last moment and swung it at me.

      "Ignore her, Aaron!" I shouted, aiming the pillow she'd thrown at me towards the back of her head.

      "Talia—wants to—"

      I tossed a cold water bottle at her back, and she jumped. Her phone sailed upwards, and when I caught it, I held it as far away from her as possible.

      "I want to tell you I'm excited to see you at, um, dinner," I said breathlessly.

      "Talia, you sound—"

      Claudia shouted, "She wants to break up with you!"

      I covered the speaker of the phone with my palm, praying to every single god in the damn world that he hadn't heard. Just in case he had, I added, "No, I don't!"

      I kind of did, though. Fuck. 

      His voice through the speaker vibrated against my hand. "What? I can't hear anything."

      "Good. Great—"

      Claudia yanked at the collar of my shirt, momentarily choking me—because holy fuck, she wasn't playing around—and snatched her phone back.

       "Can you hear me?" she asked.

       "Yeah," Aaron said. "But why—"

       "I said, Talia wants to break up with you."

        And then she hung up.

        A scream tore from between my teeth. "You did not just break up with my boyfriend over a phone call!"

       Claudia shrugged. "I totally did. No regrets."

       I had to find Aaron. Now. "You're the worst. And I'm never going to forgive you for this. Just so you're aware."

       Claudia's smile was almost too cheerful. "Yes, you will. The forgiveness will come naturally in the haze of post-sex happy endorphins from Monroe."

       "AARON," I SAID, OUT OF BREATH, "about that phone call, I really didn't mean—"

       Covered head-to-toe in skiing gear, Aaron brushed the snow off his goggles and unstrapped them. "Oh, the thing with Claudia?"

       In my rush, I'd grabbed a coat and some winter boots, and sprinted out onto the slopes. But it was utterly freezing, and God help me if my teeth were chattering so hard I barely made sense.

       "Yeah," I said. "The thing with Claudia. She, um, was just kidding."

       Aaron squinted against the cold, stabbing sunlight. His features seemed marble-hewn in this winter landscape, like he was a statue come to life against a background of monochromatic white. "Yeah, I figured that was a joke."

       In fact, I had a feeling he was almost surprised that I'd come down here to clarify this. Because of course it would be a joke. Of course Claudia was only kidding.

       "Um," I said weakly. "So. Sorry. I'll just . . ."

       Aaron grinned. Beneath the helmet, I could see his curls slipping free, glowing bronze in the sun. "You're so fucking awkward, you loser. Whatever you want to say, just say it. Want to break up with me for real? Huh?" He laughed. "Christ."

        I opened my mouth to say, Yeah, I do. 

        But Claudia was wrong. Even if I did break up with him now, it wouldn't change anything. Fucking Monroe in a few hours just wasn't right, not after dumping Aaron.

        Monroe. Fucking. Kingston.

        If it wasn't for her, I could just be in this goddamn relationship with Aaron and love him like I was supposed to. I could go my whole life passing as a normal girl who had a boyfriend, a husband, a man. Those were ordinary things. That was the life I was supposed to have.

        But Monroe had shaken up all that up. And I wanted more, now.

        It was no use blaming her anymore. Friends, I'd said.

        And tonight, I'd be having a midnight rendezvous of my own. At a goddamn swimming pool.

       She's worth it, I thought. The risk. 

       Of losing Aaron. My parents. Any chance at normality.

       Yeah. She was worth it.

        "Talia?" Aaron looked concerned now. "Do you actually want to break up with me?"

        "No," I said. Not yet.

         Five days. I would give myself five days of this—preparing myself. Because once I broke up with Aaron, the world I'd had my whole life would shatter.

         On New Year's Eve, I would go through with it. But for now, I had this. My best friend, who loved me, who was in love with me. Right before we fell apart, right before I broke his heart.

        "You sound so serious," Aaron said, shaking the flecks of snow from his gear. "Fucking idiot."

        I managed a smile. "Shut the fuck up and go back to skiing."

       "Why? Got somewhere you want to be?"

       "Damn straight," I said, but between Monroe's legs was anything but.

***

ANYWAYS. A midnight rendezvous at a swimming pool? Seriously romantic, y'all. I think I'd fall in love on the spot.

From the moon and back,
Sarai