The last place Rayne wanted to end up was his ex-friend, turned ex-boyfriend's old family beach house all by himself before anyone else arrived. However the taxi with the crusty leather seats that looked as if they had hosted a risque meeting or seven pulled into the driveway half an hour before the scheduled meeting time leaving him with nowhere to sit but on the faded wooden steps leading up to the peeling grey door. He watched it drive away, the bright yellow vehicle fading away into the endless expanse of blue sky in the distance just behind the small town of Sterling Shores.

He had vivid memories of all the idiotic shenanigans he and his friends had done as teens but agreeing to meet up for a month in the summer to rekindle their friendship now ranked as the stupidest in his mind. The thirty-one days of July would not be enough to repair the damage of eight years and some odd months the three of them had spent apart. And, he realized, not only had time separated them but thanks to the success of 'Sea-Green Corruption' Mae belonged to an entirely different social class.

A small black insect crawled across the back of his hand, tickling it slightly. Rayne brushed it off, removed his phone from the pocket of his old khaki shorts, punched in his passcode, and checked the week-old messages from Amadeus.

Dae Barlowe: You two can show up anywhere between 12 and 1. I should be there before the two of you, getting things ready for us. The address is 777 Sterling Drive in case you've forgotten.

Dae Barlowe: Oh who am I kidding. It's been 8 years. Of course you have

For a moment a spike of fear shot through him and he glanced at his watch, praying that he hadn't gotten the time wrong. Unfortunately, the numbers on the screen read twelve seventeen banishing all doubt of his error and replacing it with the new fear that he and Mae had been set up. Rayne sighed in defeat, preparing to dial what he hoped was the correct number for the taxi service when a blue sports car pulled into the drive with the windows down and rock music blaring. All signs pointed to Amadeus, who clearly hadn't changed tastes much in the last eight years.

"Rayne," he called, projecting as much confidence as he could muster as he rolled up the windows, turned off the vehicle, and climbed out. One hand raked through his hair, pushing the loose stands away from his face. " Um... hi! Sorry I'm so late. There was loads of traffic on my way over and then I got caught behind a pretty bad accident."

"It... It's nice to see you too. Honestly." The last word was added in earnest, Rayne desiring nothing more than to make up for the nervous expression his face was certain to sport.

The two men stared at each other, noticing the differences between memory and current reality. Amadeus was still every inch the president of the drama club from sophomore to senior year, the pep band's drumset player with an impossible to shake devil-may-care attitude, and the school's openly bisexual emo disaster, no trace of his polite put-together television personality in sight. He stood next to his Mustang, almost leaning against it, in black ripped jeans, a leather jacket, and a faded Metallica shirt that Rayne could remember him wearing too many a rehearsal of Junior year's production of Les Miserables, looking very unsure of himself. Even the crooked smile, the one triggered by anyone who put him in an awkward situation, made an appearance.

Rayne, who had once been the nerd with glasses, impeccable fashion sense, straight A's, gifted kid burnout, and more mental health issues than he could deal with finally seemed to be feeling the effects. His hair, which was no longer cropped short, was unkempt and the shadows under his eyes were more prominent than that had in high school which was an impressive feat by itself. His disheveled state was only accented by the way he sat on the weathered steps accompanied only by his lone suitcase, looking like a top contender for the winner of a hobo chic contest.

"Should we... Should we maybe go inside," Amadeus asked, jingling his keys in one hand and pointing at the door. "Put your stuff away and all that. Maybe we can find you somewhere better to sit than the front steps." Rayne laughed nervously as he stood, hoping that his old friend would ignore the expression of pain that crossed his face as his bad knee, the one he had messed up while skateboarding as a kid, cracked and popped.

The door's hinges squealed in protest as Amadeus struggled to push it open. It hadn't been used in those eight years after their stint as a trio ended. Rayne, being extra careful not to 'like' posts, especially old ones, had lurked on both Mae and Amadeus' social media accounts when feeling nostalgic. The other two had both been the photographers of the friend group with him just along for the ride.

He could remember the vague sense of relief that had swept over him the summer after graduation when the Barlowes hadn't posted a family photo at the beach house that year. At the time, he had hoped it meant that Amadeus was at least a little cut up about whatever stupidity had ruined their friendship and romantic relationship. Later on, seeing as he checked every year, the feeling was replaced with guilt. Never did they return for the summer or even a weekend getaway. Rayne, as he often did, assumed the worst. Something one of them had done on that final vacation was enough to stop an entire family from vacationing to their own beach house ever again.

The door finally opened after a swift kick near the bottom, revealing the unchanged interior. There was something haunting about the way a place so central to both of their shared past looked unchanged despite the chaos that had occurred away from it. Rayne sagged against the doorframe, overcome with emotion.

"Hey man. Are you ok?" Amadeus stared at him from the foyer, concern written all over his face. When he received no answer he crossed over to his friend. "You're not having another panic attack, are you? Do you even still have those? I can try and help like I used to, but it's been a while. And as good looking as you are, it's been eight years since I kissed you last and I dunno if I'm ready for that yet." Rayne almost laughed. No, very little had changed about Amadeus since they had last seen each other.

"Oh. No. I'm alright. Thanks though. Maybe I'll cash in that offer for a kiss later." He frowned when he realized what words had spilled from his mouth unbidden. What had once been careless playful banter, even before they had entered their year-long whirlwind romance, could now be a step over the line. Several steps if he was being fair to himself.

"You remember where the bedrooms are, right? You can pick whichever one you'd like."

"Yeah. I remember. I'll just take mine. Well, the one that was mine I guess. That would be more accurate wouldn't it?" Another nervous laugh escaped his lips.

"It's still your room Rayne. No one else has slept there since you did for the first time in third grade. While you set your stuff up I'm going to go bring in the groceries I bought for us and hope Mae shows up while I'm still outside."

Rayne was secretly glad to see Amadeus turn his back. Pretending to be comfortable around him after such a long separation was tiring and it was certainly going to get worse if or when Mae arrived. Interactions over text left each of them with time to think about their responses and provided an ease that was not present when meeting face to face.

Mounting the stairs took some effort. They were just as long and steep as he remembered and the awkwardly unusual height to them was inconvenient with his short stature. The bottom of his leather suitcase thumped against the stairs as he dragged it up behind him and across the floor to the door of the room that he was staying in.

An old carving in the middle of the white door, one started with a sharp sea-shell and finished with Mae's pocket knife spelled, his name in jagged letters. Two of the three spare bedrooms in the five-bedroom house had names carved on their doors. On their first group vacation together it was decided that the one decorated in sea-foam green was Mae's, the grey one Rayne's, and the plain white one would be for any future friends they made along the way. Amadeus' room was navy and his parent's room was a sandy color that none of the kids had ever been fond of but tolerated because it had been chosen to complete the beach theme.

The memories squeezed at his heart. The three of them had missed out on eight years of summer together on account of whatever silly disagreement they had had, a disagreement now lost to the mists of time. Rayne clenched his teeth and put his hand on the grey doorknob, preparing himself for the barrage of even more bittersweet memories. The knob turned easily and the door swung open with more ease than the entrance to the house.

Everything was exactly as he remembered it. The bedspread with the pale blue spots still covered the bed and the matching rug covered the hardwood floor. An old desk sat in the corner, a relic of Amadeus' grandfather's, and a set of drawers sat to their right. It was a carbon copy of the image in his mind's eye, perfect and uninterrupted down to the last detail. Uninterrupted until he noticed something small, flat, and colorful on the ground near the radiator.

Curiously it was an old photo, one printed from the old polaroid camera Mae had brought along for their final summer. It was unfocused and blurry as if the person taking it had laughed or moved while snapping the picture. A handsome teenage boy with well-styled dark hair and a haughty expression, the kind of boy Mae had always fallen for while in high school stared up at him. Something about the image struck him as wrong, but he couldn't think of anything beyond the caption. In his own untidy scrawl were the words 'Never forget Edmund Livingston'.

Rayne frowned, his grip tightening around the photo. What there was to forget about Edmond Livingston he wasn't sure, but it left him with an unpleasant feeling. Something about young Mr. Livingston, whoever he was and however they had known each other at one point, was wrong.

"Hey! Rayne! Mae's here!" Amadeus' voice ripped him from the solitude. "Can you believe it? I was starting to think that she wasn't going to show!"

"Oh. Yes. I'll be right down." He folded the offending picture in half once, then a second time, and finally laid it beside the lamp on his nightstand. "Do you need help with any groceries still? I meant to ask, but I was... um... I've been reminiscing. Sorry."

"Nah, it's fine. My god! I forgot how much you always apologize for things that you don't need to." Rayne bit back another apology and exited the room, sparing a backward glance at the strange photo before he left. He closed the door behind him, still wondering who Edmund Livingston was, and contemplating how he would make it through a month of time spent with the two people he once knew better than anyone else, two people who were now total strangers.