The second time I woke up that day, I was alone on the couch, a knitted blanket draped over me. I smiled at the thought of Michael tucking me in. It was almost noon, and the boys were off to town to buy some groceries for tonight's celebration.

Rose, Clover, and I spent the day taking pictures with nature and playing Cards Against Humanity where my sister won multiple times. It was probably the first time I realized how disturbing her humor could be. Meanwhile, Evonne was engaged in an interminable phone conversation with someone. She kept mentioning Michael throughout her talk, which upset me—not with her, but with myself for being unreasonably jealous.

In the afternoon, when the boys were back, we fished, swam, and generally had another wonderful time until the night came. Since it was our last night in the lake house, all of us had given full effort to make our last meal grand and unforgettable. The roasted turkey was placed in the middle of the round table and was surrounded by other food like mashed potatoes, hams, stuffing, corn, and many more. We turned off the lights and kindled the fireplace and little candles on the table to create a lovely scene.

The dinner was fun and loud, something that was new to me. Back home, every meal was a solemn occasion in which conversations ended abruptly with a yes or no, or a small head gesture.

"The competition's gonna be on the last day of this month, isn't it?" Clover asked, slicing the ham in half on her plate.

The person on my left was Rose, and she smiled as she answered, "Oh, yes! It will be my first time attending a band contest, and I can't wait for it. Let's all go together, okay?"

"Your first time?" I asked her. I had assumed she was a concertgoer.

"Strict parents," Nate chipped in, to which Rose nodded.

"See, I'm a church girl, and secular music isn't allowed at home. My parents find them violent and stupid. But I told them that I was studying at my friend's house on the night of the contest, so..." She shrugged proudly. "I'm good to go."

"Oh, that's evil," Clint said while the rest of us cracked up. "I didn't know you had that in you, Rose."

"I still can't forget that we didn't pass the audition." Clover let out a tiny sigh.

I glanced at Michael across the table, expecting him to make a reaction. He only chewed in silence, eyes focused on his plate.

Rose offered her a sympathetic smile. "Some things are just not meant for us, Clove. Let's move on."

"I'm just trying to figure out what went wrong during our recording. We invested so much effort into it. I think it was the most serious performance we ever did. But why?"

Nate raised his pointing finger at Clover. "There's only one explanation for that," he said and hiccupped. "We're losers. We're all losers in all aspects of life, so let's celebrate!" He raised his glass that contained iced tea.

"Yeah! Here's to all the losers!" Clint cheered, and they made a toast.

"Just because we didn't pass the audition doesn't mean we're losers," I said, and they fell silent. "Maybe we're just overqualified to be on the list," I finished with a smile. Our laughter filled the room.

We finished the meal with some cookies. After everything was cleaned up, the boys, plus Evonne, went out to set up a small bonfire on the lawn and make random noises with their guitar. Meanwhile, Clover, Rose, and I settled in front of the fireplace. I was lazing on the couch while the two of them were sitting crossed-legged on the floor, hugging pillows. Our conversations were about anything until they reached the topic that I wanted to avoid: romantic relationships.

My best defense was to shut my mouth and keep my secret locked up in my chest. But to my terror, Rose asked me, "Have you ever had a boyfriend, Autumn?"

I almost had a heart attack. A fervent shake of my head was only my response.

"Never had one. But she has a crush," Clover said, smirking at me. I wanted to deck her.

"Ooh," Rose crooned. "Who's the mystery guy? Tell us."

"N-no one! I don't have a crush," I burst out, then bit my tongue for making such noise. "I only like fictional characters like... like Mr. Darcy!"

"Wow. So much in denial," she remarked.

"I know, right?" Clover did her classic eye-roll. "Why can't people just tell other people they like them without all the fuss?"

"Well, it's scary. You get anxious, you act weird, and you're at risk of getting hurt when you tell them," I said and gave her a meaningful look.

Her mouth formed an O as she recognized that I was talking about Finn. "Right, right. Yup. I still think it's worth telling them, though. They might feel the same way, too, but you'll never know about it because you chicken out every time."

Rose nodded and was about to say something when the front door flew open. My body went hard and cold as ice when Michael staggered his way to us. His forehead was a bit sweaty, and we could smell a little bit of alcohol emanating from him. I swallowed hard, the butterflies in my stomach tripling in size as he made a charming askew smile.

"Hey, girls. 'Sup?" he said, placing himself beside Rose on the floor.

"Were you guys drinking? What the hell?" Rose slapped him on the arm. "That's not cool."

"Chuck gave us a six-pack when we drove by their farm. Relax, we've only had one bottle each." Michael waved his hand to dismiss her comment. "By the way, we're making s'mores out there. You guys should get one before Nate eats up all the marshmallows." It was weird to watch him being talkative and jovial.

Rose arched her torso outward, rubbing her stomach. "Maybe later. I'm still so full."

"So, what are you guys doing here?" he asked.

Clover glanced up at me, giving me a sly smile, and I glared at her. Zip your mouth, I mentally scolded her. However, Rose went in for the kill in the most innocent way possible.

"We're trying to guess who Autumn's crush is."

Michael turned his tipsy smile to me. "Huh. Interesting."

Clover let out a howl and clapped her hands. She was laughing so hard that she seemed to be having seizures on the floor. I hid my blushing face in my palms. My heart wanted to explode out of my chest.

"Clover, you knew!" Rose exclaimed.

"Of course, but I'll let her say his name."

"So, who is it?" Michael asked, eyeing me.

I wanted to ship myself to Tahiti right there. I couldn't believe my life would reach the point where the person I secretly liked would ask me whom I liked. It was beyond awkward.

Clover's laughter became earsplitting, so I threw a pillow at her and hit her well in the face. "Nobody! I told you guys I don't like anyone!"

"All right, okay. Calm down, people. Let's move on." Rose held her hands up to quiet us, and I almost released a massive sigh of relief until Michael spoke up.

"I think I know who the guy is."

All eyes turned to him. "Who?" Clover and Rose asked.

"It's me."

I stopped breathing.

"She has a crush on me," he said loudly with more certainty this time.

And it scared me half to death. I wanted to bolt out of the door and dive straight into the lake so that no one would ever see a sight of me again. Questions whirled inside my skull like a tropical cyclone. Did he really figure it out? How? Did somebody tell him? Does he have a sixth sense? Am I that obvious?

"No, that's not true," I muttered, sending a frown his way.

"Really?" Michael stood up and moved to my spot. With a lopsided smile, he placed his hands on the arm of the couch where my head was resting. I gaped at him, his face just a couple of inches above mine.

Shock took over me, and I rolled to the wrong side of the couch and hit the floor with a thud. I sprung up to my feet, screaming, "I need to pee," and made a mad dash to the bathroom before everyone began cackling.

"It's a joke!" Michael said.

Shut up.

After I locked the door, I placed my back against it, inhaled, exhaled, covered my mouth with both hands, and squealed as loud as I could while making goofy jumps for a good ten seconds. Then, I closed my eyes, breathed again, and met my reflection in the mirror.

I looked horrible. My cheeks were burning, my pupils were dilating, and my hair was messed up like a magpie's nest. I splashed water on my face and tried to think straight.

Take it easy. He'll forget about it when he sleeps.

Telling myself that made me relax somehow, but it was only temporary. As soon as I recalled how he approached me with that tipsy smile of his and said the words it's me, my knees trembled again. I felt nauseous. I remained in the bathroom for maybe ten minutes, just contemplating what to do with my life.

Soon, I stepped outside with newfound bravery. You can do this, I told myself for the thousandth time, pumping my fist like an overconfident idiot.

Rose had gone outside to join the bonfire when I went back to the living room. Michael was on the other couch, stretching out on his stomach. He had one arm covering his face and the other one dangling off the edge.

"Is he asleep?" I whispered to Clover. She was the only one that remained in the same place on the floor.

"Nope. He's playing dead," she replied, and a giggle came out of her. "He's asleep, obviously. What took you so long? Did you pass out in the bathroom? You were blushing very badly I almost called an ambulance to rush you to the ER."

"Give it a break already, Garlic Clove. Haven't you had enough fun at my expense?" I said.

"Fine. I'm sorry."

I returned to my couch and realized that my phone wasn't there. I panicked, looking around for it.

"Looking for this?" Clover waved the object in the air. I snatched it from her hand, feeling the steam coming off my nose and ears. "Chill. I didn't read your messages. But check your gallery and thank me later. I'm off to get some s'mores."

When she left, I sat on the couch and checked my phone's gallery, curious as to what Clover had mentioned. Populating my picture album were a few pictures of Michael, and all of them were candid shots of him talking and sleeping. They had been taken while I had been meditating in the bathroom. Sneaky Clover.

Although she was wildly troublesome tonight, I had to thank her for doing one thing I was too shy to do so. Smiling, I gazed at his pictures and thought about the things I couldn't say to his face.

──────

Once again, I woke up at an ungodly hour. The front door screeched close with a quiet click, alerting me that someone just went outside. I glanced around and noticed the other couch was empty.

I drew out my phone, and with the help of its dim light, I started my way to the door. There was almost no floor space because everyone was sprawled out on blankets and foam mattresses, and I had to skip over them. They must've been drained of energy because none of them twitched at the creaking noises I made.

In hindsight, I should have realized how dangerous it was to go outside in the dead of night. I should've returned to the couch and forced myself to sleep again. I shouldn't have talked to Michael on the dock. Like a moth to a flame, however, I went there and sat next to him, facing the lake, facing a looming heartbreak.

As though he'd been expecting me to arrive, he said without preamble, "This feels all too familiar, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

He said nothing but simply looked upwards. I did, too, then I knew what he meant.

"Oh. Yes, it is familiar," I said.

He breathed in the scent of the lake. "This is nice."

With drowsy eyes, we spent the moment looking at the starry sky and bright full moon. I realized that we acted so differently when friends surrounded us. When we wanted silence, and our minds were half-asleep, and he and I were only there for each other, it would be the time for us to take off our masks and let our souls speak.

"I remember the first time we watched the stars together," I began timidly, playing with the sleeve cuffs of my pajama top. "It was after Finn's birthday party. You were walking me home, and we were talking about music."

"And you warned me about the cigarette and what they would do to my lungs." I sensed him smiling. "It's still amusing."

I scowled. "At least it made you smoke-free. I haven't seen you holding a cigarette for a long time now."

"Does that mean you're always looking out for me?"

"N-not like that," I said, although he was right. His well-being was one of my concerns, but I chickened out from telling him. I felt a tingle in my toes as a memory occurred to me. "I just remembered something... about a sticky note on my locker." I looked at him. "You were the one that gave me that, right?"

"What sticky note?"

"The one that says about wishing to be drunk that night so you could've told me the things you were afraid to say while sober. I've received many sticky notes, but that one looked different from the others. Instead, it matched the note that you pasted on the back cover of The Little Prince."

Michael didn't hesitate to smile, his eyes glinting. "Good detective work, Marmalade."

"Why did you write that to me? What was it that you were afraid to talk about?"

"Someday. I'll tell you."

"Come on."

He breathed through his mouth and shifted his sitting position. "So, about the other sticky notes. Did they work on you?"

"What...?" I said with a dropping sensation in my gut. "What do you mean by that?"

"Finn wrote them to you, didn't he?"

"How did you know?"

He turned his eyes toward the lake. "Because I gave him the idea."

A chill slithered all over my body.

"I don't understand..." I whispered. "Why would you do that?"

"He's always told me about you since last year. I was the only one he confided in about this. He spoke highly of you, you know?" He cracked a smile at me, and what a cold and indecipherable smile it was. "We were hanging out one time when you passed by in front of us. Without you noticing, he pointed at you and said, 'Do you see that girl with bright red hair? One day she's going to be mine.' So, I helped him with it."

His words sounded so wrong in my ears—it was as if someone was pressing random keys and notes and making awful noises. Something lodged in my throat, and it was painful to swallow it down as I talked.

"But I... I turned him down."

"Why? He's a great guy. Were you afraid or something?"

I could have confessed to Michael right there. Could have told him he was the one that occupied my heart and no one else. But the way he suggested Finn and the way he looked at me like I was crazy for turning his friend down shattered the confidence that I'd been working on. I should've left at that point. I should've cut that conversation short. But I stayed. One part of me was pathetically hoping that he would burst into a laugh and tell me this was all just a joke.

"Maybe I was," I said. My voice was as cold as the air around us.

"You don't need to worry about him. He's dependable. Take it from someone who's known him for years."

"So you're saying that I should give him a chance?"

My eyes were fixed on him, my shoulders heaving as I tried to keep a tight rein on my emotions. At last, Michael shifted his attention from the lake to me, and I thought he would be able to read my face and see how much his words were disappointing me. But he didn't. He just stared right through me, his strange smile never leaving his appearance.

"Yes. He'll be perfect for you," he said.

That was it for me. The place that I once loved because of its romantic and splendid view was now tainted with a bad memory, and I could no longer enjoy looking at it. I stood up from the dock and told him that I'd be heading back inside.

Although my knees were weak and my eyes were on the verge of welling up, I continued to march on without looking back, leaving the pieces of my heart along the way, which still led back to him.