I want to make it clear that this another thing I didn't usually do. I know I began the last section of this thing by saying that I wanted you all to know that I didn't usually hook up with people. But I also didn't usually do things like make spontaneous trips to Florida. Oh, yeah, that's where Kennedy wanted to go. Good old Tampa, Florida.

I probably sound like a broken record of "I swear I don't usually do this!" at this point. And most of you don't really have anything to compare me to other than who I've been since meeting Kennedy Abrams. But I swear, all of these things I 'don't usually do' are things I only started doing because of this giant force of a human being I had suddenly found myself bonded to through no fault of my own.

That makes it sound like our friendship was some punishment. And it really wasn't. Isn't? But I just want to make it clear that everything about this trip was not something that spoke to my personality. It spoke to Kennedy's. And only Kennedy's.

I don't know how long I'm going to write about this before interjecting again with my own thoughts and whatever. So I don't know exactly how much to give away right now. I'm not the best planner when it comes to writing, which is in stark contrast to most other aspects of my life. I hope that everyone can see that I'm trying to be a good person here. Is that giving too much away? I want you to keep reading. I just...wow, I ramble on here a lot.

I think it's important to say that I take responsibility for my actions. But when someone else tries to claim that something is your fault when it 100% is not...it takes a strong person to tell them that they're wrong. Especially when you idolize the person trying to blame you for something. Especially when you feel like that person is going to be able to open up doors for you that you could never open on your own.

To put it simply, I am not a strong person.

><><

"Where have you been?"

Rebecca ran into the apartment at 2:12 Sunday afternoon, carrying with her the shoes she had worn to the party and her now completely dead phone. She and Kennedy had decided to drive to Tampa, Florida, and stay for a week. Kennedy had found an Airbnb and booked it, allowing them to check in starting at 6:00 AM on Monday. Rebecca wanted to wait and drive down the following morning, but Kennedy insisted on driving through the night; it was only an eight hour drive, after all. If they left at 10 PM, they would easily be there to check in at 6 AM on Monday.

So, Rebecca had agreed to driving through the night, starting their trip in less than eight hours. She had called Janie back and told her that she was terribly ill and wouldn't be in for the rest of the week. She had sensed Janie's trepidation and mistrust at her call, but she hardly cared; Rebecca had received permission to take the week off to recover. Classes were another story altogether, but she figured she would just do make-up work and hope for the best.

Memories were more important than grades. At least, that was what she had been told by Celeste for the past two years as the two compared vastly different college experience stories.

So, when Rebecca entered her apartment ready to pack, she was not sure why she hadn't expected to run into her best friend; she supposed she had expected her to be with Spencer or something.

"I was at Kennedy's." Rebecca replied to Celeste's question carefully, "I guess I passed out there this morning."

"I'm not surprised." Celeste raised her eyebrows, stirring her teabag around her mug absentmindedly, "You didn't seem to be...all there...last night."

Rebecca felt her face grow warm.

"Did I do anything embarrassing?"

Celeste thought for a second before shaking her head.

"I don't think so." She shrugged, "Or if you did, I was too far gone to remember it either. My night was interesting, to say the least."

The strange feeling that had accompanied Rebecca's chest when Kennedy told her about Celeste and Spencer returned at those words. She didn't know why she cared about Celeste and Spencer; she supposed she had always thought that Spencer was somewhat interested in her, and that he would always be there. As a backup option, for when she finally got tired of looking for someone else. If he was with Celeste, her backup option was gone, and she was left sort of...on her own.

"How so?" Rebecca asked cautiously, unsure of whether or not she wanted Celeste to answer honestly.

Celeste shrugged.

"I should probably tell you another time." She laughed slightly, "You look like you're anxious about something. What's going on?"

Rebecca thought for a second. She could tell Celeste that she was going on a trip with Kennedy. But that would require coming up with a reason that she was willing to go on a spontaneous trip with Kennedy and had denied Celeste's request to go to the beach for the weekend the month before. Plus, Kennedy had specifically instructed that no one know where they were going, since they were going to get more pictures for the account while they were gone.

"My dad was in a car accident yesterday." She lied through her teeth, the fib coming to her mind suddenly and her mouth acting on it, "He's fine, but I'm gonna head home for the week to spend time with him and comfort my mom."

Celeste's eyes widened.

"Wow. I'm so sorry. Tell Mr. Harry I hope he recovers quickly." She shook her head, "That is so scary. Are you leaving now?"

Rebecca nodded.

"I'm gonna pack some things for the week and then head out around..." She thought for a second, figuring out when she was planning on heading back to Kennedy's apartment, "...4:30 or so. Then I'll get back to Greensboro by like 8:00 or 8:30, depending on traffic." When in actuality, she wouldn't be leaving Clemson until 10:00 PM.

"Well, text me if you need anything. And I'm sure my parents would be more than happy to help out—"

"Nope." Rebecca shook her head immediately, "I'm sure my parents are just trying to get through this quietly. You know...pride, and all."

Celeste nodded solemnly as Rebecca made her way to her bedroom, hoping that Celeste wouldn't do the stupid thing and talk to her parents about this, who would then talk to Rebecca's parents, who would then call Rebecca asking why she was lying about her father being in a car accident. Which would then force Rebecca to come up with another lie. Which she—clearly—wasn't the best at doing.

She walked into her room and closed the door behind her, grabbing a small carry-on sized suitcase from the top shelf of her closet. She didn't know exactly what to bring to a random trip to Florida with someone she hardly knew, but she was sure that Kennedy would have clothes to spare if Rebecca didn't have something specifically for the occasion.

She threw things in her suitcase quickly—dresses and bikinis and crop tops and high heels and anything that she thought looked like something Kennedy Abrams might wear. Rebecca had a running list in her head of things, grabbing her facial cleansers and makeup brushes and everything she would possibly need in the next week. The list in her head grew smaller as the pile in her suitcase grew larger, and she ended up having to sit on the thing to get it to close. Sit on it, and then jump up and down on it until she found the exact right spot to get the zipper all the way around.

Rebecca picked her suitcase up and walked out of her room, sticking it next to the couch as she headed for the kitchen to find something to eat. She was going to need some kind of sustenance inside of her after the night she had just had. The night she was desperately trying not to think about, since she was pretty sure losing her virginity to a random guy who made out with Kennedy a few minutes later was not something to be proud of. But then again, virginity was definitely a social construct and not something she had to care about losing. She was pretty sure. Rebecca Eaves wasn't quite sure of how she felt about that. So, it was probably better to not think about it, and therefore avoid feeling any way about it at all.

4:30 hit and she left immediately, texting Kennedy that she was on her way as Celeste reminded her to give her dad condolences.

><><

Monday, September 28, 2020. 6:32 AM.

Being in a car with Kennedy Abrams for eight and a half hours was surprisingly exciting. Being in a car with anyone for eight and a half hours sounded like anything but exciting, but somehow Kennedy was able to make the trip seem like it passed in half the time. She had spent the car ride showing Rebecca new music, telling stories of her college experiences—but nothing earlier—and making jokes about the people both of the girls happened to know.

Everything about Kennedy's life seemed so extravagant and otherworldly. The girl had been abroad four times in her two years of college: France for a week during her freshman year, Spain for a month during the summer of 2019, Brazil for two weeks during her sophomore year, and Italy for three weeks during the summer of 2020. The girl had been abroad more in the past two years than Rebecca had been in her entire life.

Then again, it wasn't hard to get higher than zero.

The entire car ride had been one story after another, and Rebecca found herself not even being annoyed with the fact that she was driving the entire way and that she had caved to Kennedy wanting them to take Rebecca's car instead of Kennedy's in the first place. She had been entertained the entire ride, and when Kennedy wasn't telling her stories, she was playing music Rebecca had never heard of but somehow loved every word of. She had made a mental note at hour 3 to follow Kennedy on Spotify when they finally got to Tampa.

They got their overflowing suitcases out of the trunk at 6:32 AM on Monday morning, Kennedy still talking about the last song she had played for Rebecca as they tried to find the Airbnb through their GPS. In all honesty, at that point Rebecca had stopped listening to her friend in an effort to actually make it out of the car and to the right house.

They had found it at 6:30 AM on the dot: a cute little house just off of the highway. It was smaller than the house Rebecca had grown up in, but from what she understood about the owners, they were a kind older couple who were excited to have younger guests staying with them for the week.

The two pulled their suitcases to the front door and Kennedy checked her phone for check-in instructions.

"There's a keycode, and we can just go in. According to the app." She added, nodding towards her phone that was balancing carefully on the top of her hand that was also holding her Nike sweatshirt, "Do you mind? My hands are sort of full."

Rebecca nodded, dropping her own knock-off Champion sweatshirt on the ground and sliding her phone in her pocket.

"5621." Kennedy read the keycode from her phone as Rebecca pressed the corresponding keys, "Did it work?"

Three beeps came from the keypad and the light at the top turned green as Rebecca heard a soft click.

"I think it did."

She opened the door and picked up her sweatshirt before pulling her suitcase over the threshold and into the house. It was dark and quiet—as she assumed the couple was still asleep—and the two found their way to the guest bedroom quickly. The room contained two queen-sized beds and an adjoining bathroom, connected to the bedroom by a door at the foot of the bed closest to the window.

Rebecca left her suitcase at the foot of the bed closest to the door and walked into the room and bathroom, looking around carefully. She had never been in an Airbnb before, and everything about it was completely foreign; the laissez-faire check-in procedure, the owners being asleep when they arrived, the fact that they found the bedroom and bathroom on their own without even double-checking that it was actually theirs to begin with. Everything was odd. And yet Kennedy didn't seem the least bit perturbed, so Rebecca stayed silent. She was new to this. Kennedy was the seasoned professional.

"Alright." Kennedy dropped her suitcase at the foot of the other bed, "I think that we can still catch the sunrise if we head to the beach."

Rebecca felt her eyes widen.

"We're heading out? We're not going to sleep at all first?"

Kennedy shook her head adamantly.

"We are definitely not going to sleep right now. It's prime picture time!" She giggled for a second at her little rhyme before picking her suitcase up and sticking it on the bed. "Get your swimsuit, Rebecca. We are going to have the absolute best pictures."

Rebecca nodded her head obediently and set her suitcase on her own bed, opening it and pulling out her red-and-white striped bikini top before fishing around for her red bikini bottoms. She couldn't help the voice in her head that reminded her that not a single picture would be taken of her this entire trip, for fear it would look too coincidental to Drew Parley's followers.

Kennedy would be the one getting 'the absolute best pictures.'

She quickly got dressed in her swimsuit while Kennedy changed into hers as well, both girls ready to go within five minutes.

"Oh, do you want to know what the account's at by now?" Kennedy asked casually as they headed back towards the car.

Rebecca nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

"Ten thousand followers."