Monday morning bliss. Okay, maybe bliss and Monday don't usually go together, but after this last weekend and the fact it's the first day of school, and I'm mashing up bliss and Monday.

"I can't believe we are finally seniors!" My best friend, Brittney, yells with her arm out the window. Her vibrant blonde hair is flying in a crazy array and for the first time, she doesn't even seem to care. It's got me laughing and I'm pretty thankful for it at the moment.

I became official besties with Brittney in the sixth grade. We quickly discovered we had one passion in common—soccer. Though that passion might be the only thing we have in common, our friendship kind of stuck after a bathroom debacle of the female variety.

The thing about today is, it's not just the first day of school, it's the first day of senior year and there are so many other firsts that come with that. Like the fact I got ready this morning in an empty house.

"We made it," I acknowledge, turning along the beach and taking in a few added moments of summer before we head into our last year at Vista High.

There's peace in the way the sun hits the water. It's a calm and steady that I'm beginning to realize I won't always have, not when I leave for college next year. And that thought has me inevitably shifting back to my brothers. Each and every one of them have moved away, away from the coastal bliss of this town.

I wonder if they've found a new peaceful in their town, something to look forward to and take for granted at the same time.

"You think this year will feel different?" she asks, keeping her hand outside.

I glance over at her, trying to make sense of where she's going with her question before I return my focus to the road. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Just, I kinda feel like we're on top of the world. I'm hoping that feeling lasts all year."

Brittney and I have been through a lot together. As one of the few females in my life, she's been my voice of reason, the person I go to when I need trusted advice. Like the time I thought I might be able to pull off bangs. While my oldest brother, Stephen, told me to do whatever I wanted and Jare said something along the lines of it's just hair it will grow back, I was thankful to have someone who could give me some actual advice.

She's also the only person I could confidently share my crushes with without getting a grossed out look or the overprotective brother stare where I knew the guy I liked would soon be getting a talking to.

"I think this is our year," I reply, glancing over to offer a smile.

She's rolling up the window now, pulling a brush from her bag and popping the mirror down to fix her look.

"I think so too," she says, popping her lips together in the mirror. She snaps the visor closed and falls back into her seat. "You think we'll make Homecoming?"

My heart lurches, a surge of memories fluttering in front of my eyes. The smile on my mom's face when she shared stories of her time on the court. It's where her and my dad first officially met. Of course, they knew of each other, had talked in adjacent social circles. In a small town like Vista Point, it's inevitable to not cross paths. But they never took the time to truly get to know one another. Being paired in the Homecoming Court gave them a common ground to get to know one another. I guess you could say the rest is history.

Each one of my brothers have followed suit, all being crowned king, just like my mom and dad. It's kind of a family tradition. While riding on a float down Main Street wearing a far too sparkly dress pretty much goes against all that I am, it's the one thing I've always pined for—a moment I can share with my mom.

The whole thing sounds ridiculous, I know. But Homecoming is a huge deal in this town. We're talking shut the streets down big. It's a whole ordeal. It's one of those tender memories I still have of my mom, her and I standing at the edge of the crowd, watching as the lavish floats rolled by. The girls waving in their elegant dresses and the guys all dressed in their suits.

I used to dream I would be up there one day, waving down at her and looking at that proud smile of hers. Losing her, it changed that dream a bit. It's no longer about making her proud, it's about sharing that piece of her, about feeling like I'm somehow connected to her in a way I know meant so much.

"I don't know," I finally respond. "It's all one big popularity contest and I'm not exactly riding the top of that food chain."

"I know," she huffs. "Me either. But you are in the running for team captain this year. I think that gets you somewhere."

Her optimism sparks a piece inside me. It's something my boyfriend, Adam, and I have talked a bit about. The role of captain has always been preserved for seniors, and it's a role both he and I have had our eye on. With the two of us potentially getting captain together, it's a power couple dream-team. One that could just seal the deal in getting me a spot on the Homecoming Court.

"We'll see. There's a lot of talent on our team this year, including you. Could be any of us."

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

A minute later, we're pulling into the parking lot. I spot Adam's car right away and park beside him. He's leaning on the hood with a couple of his teammates, his eyes catching my arrival as a smile stretches across his face.

Hopping out, I head his way and swing my arms around him before I bring my lips to his. It's quick, his hands along my waist gently push me away. I glance at his friends, acknowledging the fact that they're all looking our way. Adam has a thing about PDA, especially in front of his friends. I get it.

"Good morning," I whisper, smiling up at him.

"Good morning. I brought you something." He takes a few steps back, reaching into his car before he pulls out a small cup. "A chai. Happy first day."

I'm beaming. Full on cheesy smile right alongside my embarrassingly rosy cheeks. I'm a first day of school kind of girl. You know, fresh new backpack, a brand new set of colored pens I plan to take detailed and organized notes with. I've got a new pair of black and white Nikes I saved for the last couple weeks just for today and a matching hoodie.

The fact he bought my favorite warm drink to celebrate this small moment with me makes everything ten times better.

"Thank you," I say, reaching for the drink and bringing its strong aroma to my lips.

"You're welcome. Oh, and I got you a caramel macchiato," he adds, quickly shifting his eyes away from mine as he turns back to his car and pulls out a second drink. He takes a small step past me and passes the cup to Brittney. "I think that's your favorite, right?"

She's smiling, an almost similar flash of pink coating her cheeks as she reaches for the cup. "It is. Thank you, Adam. That was really sweet."

"It was nothing."

"It was everything," I cut in, stepping back in front of him. The fact he included my best friend so she didn't feel left out melts a small piece of me. "And how did you know caramel macchiato was her favorite?"

His eyes leave mine for a beat, glancing over my shoulder before quickly flashing back to mine. "I didn't. I mean, isn't that what most girls like?"

"Not me."

"Well, that's because you have an aversion to coffee. But if you did drink it, I'm sure you'd have the same favorite."

I'm about to battle his theory when Brittney jumps in, pulling gently at my shoulder. "Okay. Senior year awaits my friends. And I don't know about you, but I've waited three long years for this moment."

My hand falls into Adam's, our fingers lacing together as we turn to face the school in front of us. We'll never have another first day here. The thought settles along my chest, joining all the heavy lumps of emotion.

Taking a breath, we walk together, ready to face senior year.

The first few classes are a fast paced blur. Everything is introductions and what to expect for the year. I eat it all up, using a perfect variety of colors to take my notes. I'm pretty sure I'm one of the few writing things down today, but what can I say, I have a new pack of pens and a flair for using them. I might even have some intricate doodles along the margins just to put the colors to full use.

When I enter chemistry, I'm excited to see both Adam and Brit. It's the one class we all share and I've been looking forward to it all day. When I turn to their aisle, Adam stands, gesturing to the open stool beside him. My eyes flicker to Brit and then to the empty seat next to her. Thankfully, Maria sails in behind me, sliding into the seat next to Brit and saving me from making a choice I did not want to make.

Once the second bell sounds, Mr. Farris clears his throat. "Good afternoon. I want to start today by saying I hope you all chose your seats wisely as you have just chosen your lab partner for the year. No switching. No exceptions."

I glance over at Adam and a smile pulls across my face as he looks back at me. It's a solid start to the year, getting to be lab partners with my boyfriend? What could be better?

The door swings open then, all eyes flying to catch the disruption.

"Ah, Mr. Beck. How nice of you to join us."

"My pleasure," Cam acknowledges with a smile. He holds the door open to let Porcia Reynolds, head cheerleader and I'm pretty sure Cam's latest hookup, file in behind him.

"And Ms. Reynolds. Your seating options are limited given your tardy status. Please find an open seat." Mr. Farris speaks in a low, unapproving tone as he points toward the back. I watch as Porcia scans the room before giving Cam a pouty look. She's surely realizing she won't be sitting with him today. Cam doesn't offer much in return as he heads down the aisle and plops himself down beside Raya.

Raya happens to be my brother's on again, off again girlfriend. At least, she was before he left for college. Now, I'm not exactly sure what they are. But she offers a small, friendly smile as Cam slides in beside her.

"Now, as I was saying," Mr. Farris continues. "You have just chosen your lab partner for the year. There will be no switching for any reason. Life is choices, and you just made one."

Mr. Farris goes on to preach about the power of our choices. I'm not exactly sure if this is part of the lecture, but I pull out my nifty pack of pens and take notes anyway. Mr. Farris is known to be a hardass. I've been warned by all my brothers to expect the unexpected. If he decides to throw a question about life choices on the next quiz, I want to be prepared.

——

The rest of the day has been a lot of the same. Series of lectures and notes. Lunchtime catching up with friends and sharing laughs that were well overdue.

Now I'm walking down the quiet hall, twirling the break pass in my hand as I make my way to the bathroom. It's the last class of the day and it just so happens to be calculus. While I love school, I wouldn't exactly mind if math suddenly disappeared from the required list of classes. It's never held my interest and I don't think senior year will be the magical year of making that nifty little fact change.

So, before I fell asleep mid lecture, I decided to step out for some air.

I turn toward the corner, quickly making my way toward the bathroom before I'm stopped dead in my tracks.

My heart has seized, squeezed so tight all air has vanished from my lungs. I can't move. I can't speak. I can't even seem to form a coherent thought.

Every single thing is mush.

There, in the small space of the hall, tucked between a series of lockers, Brit is pushed up against the wall, Adam's hands cling to her waist, his tongue down her throat. She's got her hands lost in his hair, one leg lifted around him.

I think I'm going to be sick.

"What the fuck?" A voice comes out behind me. I don't have to turn to know who is standing witness behind me. But it's within the anger of Cam's voice that I'm jolted back to life as the two people I care about pull apart.

Adam's eyes are the first ones to meet mine, and in that one look, everything breaks.

"Mack," he says, wiping a hand across his mouth before he flashes his eyes over my shoulder, surely making contact with who I know is standing there.

I can feel the fury radiating behind me. I know Cam saw what I saw. I know that overprotective instinct is coursing through him, but I can't do this.

A wave of pain crashes against my chest, a tsunami of betrayal and hurt and sadness pushes me down.

I can't do this.

I can feel it. I can feel the walls crumbling, that familiar burn behind my eyes. But I won't cry. I won't be the girl who needs comfort or taking care of.

"Mack," Brit whispers, her eyes already spilling over in tears. "I'm so sorry. We didn't–"

I won't do this.

I spin around, ready to bail when I slam into Cam's chest, his arms pulling me in.

"Cam, please," I beg, fighting desperately to keep everything at bay.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" His words aren't intended for me. I can feel the heated strength behind them. I don't have to look up from the firm chest I've buried myself into to know Cam's eyes are set on Adam's.

"Cam," I say again, feeling the dam losing strength. "Please get me out of here."

I can feel his gaze drop to me, his arms sliding gently around my waist.

"Mack, wait," Adam says behind me, but he's not given a chance to finish. Before he can say anything else, Cam is pulling me from the suffocating confinement of that tiny hallway, making a beeline straight for the doors. We're crashing through them, the heat of the sun colliding with the pounding of my chest.

I don't know where we're going, everything is blurry and messy and shattered to pieces.

My best friend. The one person who I've leaned on for everything. And my boyfriend.

How long?

Why?

"Mackenzie," Cam whispers, the warmth of his hand finding mine. "Can I–"

"I'm fine," I cut him off, pulling my hand from his as I let my gaze settle on the field in front of me. I can feel the padded cushion of the grass beneath my feet as the calming peace of the soccer field falls into view.

"Kenze–"

"I'm fine, Camden." I pull away, turning to face the goal at the far end of the field. There are some places built to heal you. Sacred ground carved perfectly to your every need. The soccer field is one of those places for me. It has been for a long time. An outlet. A distraction.

"I know you are," Cam says, stepping up beside me. I can feel the knowing connection buzzing between us. It's the same one we had sitting on that bench all of those years ago. It's why he knew to take me here. Because he knows what it's like to need an escape, to have a place to lose yourself in when the pain gets too loud. "But it's also okay if you're not."

Except, I don't want to share all the tangled pieces, I don't want him to see something that's meant to be buried. I swallow it down, pushing the jagged lump down my throat as I turn to face him. "Well, I am."

He nods, watching as I work to settle each and every breath.

"Okay. Then I'll let you be."

Just as he turns to leave, a panic seizes my chest, the realization of the fallout cascades in front of me. "Cam," I stop him. He turns slowly, a brow raised as his eyes connect with mine. "Please don't tell my brothers about this. Especially Jare."

"Kenzie–"

"He doesn't need this," I quickly interrupt the thoughts I know he's bound to share. And I know it's not fair of me to ask him to keep this from his best friend, but he can't know. "He's got baseball to think about and classes. It will just make him worry. And that will hurt me more than anything Adam could have done. So, please. Don't tell him."

He's hesitating, mulling over exactly what it is I'm asking. I know he doesn't owe me this, I know it goes against everything he's surely promised my brother, but I'm hoping that somehow he can give me this. "Okay," he relents on a heavy exhale. "I won't tell him."

"Thank you."

He doesn't say anything after that, his only response is the small nod of his head before he slowly walks away.

I turn back to the field in front of me, breathing in the subtle breeze and pushing down every single ounce of hurt. Just like I do every time I take another hit.