Together, we open the screen door, revealing the backyard area, where there are some people dipping their toes in the shallow side of the pool, others balancing on floaties in the deep end. Weirdly enough, Sazuri's house is located at the very edge of town, so there's no fence to block off the park area behind her house. Technically, it's not a part of her property, but that doesn't stop her family from stringing old-fashioned lanterns from the robust trees and sticking small color-changing LED lights on the stone pathway. Like I suspected, outside is a lot more chilly and occasionally rowdier. 

Her still holding my left hand, I climb onto a stone ledge, carefully balancing as I put one foot in front of the other. All the while, Nea jokes by pretending to let go, and I scold her in response. Thank God I didn't listen to her and wear heels or else I would've plummeted to my death for sure, considering the stone is bumpy and not wide enough for me to walk normally.

"You're not funny," I tell her, jumping off as the slope of the stone comes to an end where a sidewalk starts. "If I fell to my death, I hope you know I'd haunt you forever."

"Aww," she coos, "what I'm hearing is that you want to stay with me forever. How sweet."

It was meant to be a joke, yet I'd have to admit there is some truth to it. In a way, I'm glad neither of us are leaving Warrington anytime soon. She plans on continuing to work for the diner, and I plan to attend community college as all of the colleges have rejected me already. I saw it coming, so I'm not bummed out by it anymore. Education truly is what you make of it, and I know I'm capable of taking advantage of every opportunity I come by. And, on the bright side, I'll have Nea here beside me every step of the way. One of my concerns coming into the senior year was us parting ways eventually. If that was the case, she wouldn't be able to pull up in my driveway immediately after I call her when I'm having a shitty day, nor would I have someone to leave pictures of memes under their pillow.

I push her softly, but she pretends to almost trip for comedic effect. I laugh so hard that I almost forget that there are still so many people around us. The rest of the world faded to black in white; only we remained in color. "Careful there. Next time I'll push you into the pool."

By the time the path dwindles into the depths of spookier trees, we turn around, grinning as we continue to mess around on our way back to the pool. Eventually, one of our classmates called us to stay in one place so they could distribute the cake. Through the window facing the kitchen, I watch as a few of Sazuri's friends help her remove the layers of the cake, revealing three sticks puncturing the middle to keep them stacked. One by one, they start cutting the tiers into skinny slices, and a few people help pass them out. In the corner, Sazuri tears apart the wrapping of all her presents, marveling at every item she was given. Nea and I tried to get a better look as she went through all the gifts, but there were too many people surrounding her, so we figured we'd just check up with her later.

Nea got a slice of red velvet, while I got a vanilla one with buttercream frosting. As we eat, the both of us engage in conversations with our fellow recent graduates, complaining about certain teachers, reminiscing on embarrassing moments, and making stupid jokes about how much we've changed. I hate to admit it, but I am finally beginning to enjoy myself once I finally shed my shell. Honestly, there are some pretty cool people from high school I didn't even bother to get to know better because I was too busy cooped in my own world, unwilling to branch out. Unfortunately, I'm only starting to realize this while our time is limited, and most of them will be getting the hell out of here by fall.

Gradually, the party attendees start to funnel out, leaving the latecomers (like us) to stay. Granted, there still were a lot of people, but a breathable amount compared to before.

Only Nea and I are left sitting on the lounge chairs by a hammock. We're quiet, that is, until her phone rings abruptly from her pocket.

Hand on her forehead, she answers the Facetime call from his sister, Ayla.

"Nea!" Ayla yells rather monotonously, her breathing heavily exaggerated. "Help! HELP ME!"

"Oh. My. God," Nea exclaims, though there is something off about her tone. It sounds very...unnatural? Her hand covers her mouth and her eyes widen. "What is happening?"

"I AM GETTING MUGGED RIGHT NOW," Ayla screeches, a shrill scream escaping her throat, every syllable coming out of her mouth dragged out for dramatic effect. Now that I think about it, she's running extremely slow for someone supposedly in danger. She's not even out of breath, and I don't even think there's anyone chasing her from behind. "Please come as soon as possible."

"I'm leaving right now!" Nea says, hastily hanging up and bolting out of her seat. "I need to save my sister! Who is totally in so much trouble right now!"

"Yo do you want me to go with you?" I ask, watching her scramble towards the house.

"No! You're only gonna slow me down!" she declares, dodging all the decorations in her way.

Is this lying ass bitch really about to leave me right now? Not that she's wrong, because I'm extremely out of shape, but she's a horrible actress, and anyone could see that. I bet my entire life Ayla's not even being mugged right now. Why didn't she, I don't know, call the police instead? Before I can catch up to Nea, I lose her in the crowd, and the next thing I know, an engine roars. Peeking through the pink curtains, I realize her car has disappeared.

Fucking great. Why is she acting so weird? This is so unlike her.

Okay, maybe this is a signal that it's my turn to leave as well. Only, I don't have a ride home anymore. I guess I could call my parents to pick me up. They'd be annoyed about it since they're probably sleeping right now. The other option is to call an Uber or to ask someone else here for a ride, though Sazuri's the only person I'd feel safe enough with to drive me home, and she's clearly busy.

Rather conveniently, the aforementioned girl rushes to my side, looking abnormally eager to see me. "Hey, Remi! I've been looking for you forever."

"Oh," I blink slowly, putting my hand on the doorknob, "I've been here, I guess. But I was just about to leave. The cake was delicious, and I had a lot of fun."

"Wait! No! You can't leave!" she blurts, violently reaching to grab my wrist. When she realizes how suspiciously weird that sounded, she clears her throat. "I mean, I need you to help me find something."

I frown. "Okay. I have nothing better to do anyway."

She beams, looking a little too happy that I agreed. She must really need the help. "Great! It's upstairs in my room! And my keys are also in there, so I can drive you home if you want."

She practically drags me up a flight of steps and down the main hallway of the second story, all the pictures and paintings hung on the walls blurring as we pass them. Compared to the lower tier, the hallways where the bedrooms are are a lot narrower, only allowing space for vases full of orchids to be placed on slim tables. Even then, it feels a little cramped as we walk in front of the master bedroom, though we're only sharing the space with a thin woolen carpet. 

"Um, Sazuri? What exactly are we looking for?" I ask, confused when I realize she hasn't exactly explained to me why we're up here in the first place.

"Oh, um, you'll see," she says, leading me to the last room, where the tiger-striped carpet ends.

In one swift movement, she opens the door and shoves me inside without even crossing the threshold. My mind is in overdrive as I watch her slam it in front of my face. In horror, I frantically try to turn the knob, but it doesn't budge.

I'm locked inside here. Fuck.

The worst part is I'm not alone. Sitting behind an easel with a canvas on it, Blaise pays me no mind as he consults the palette on his lap for the next color to dip his thin brush in. A tapestry covers the floor underneath him, stained with as much paint as his arms are, although his hands have really taken the brunt of whatever explosion of color had occurred. He's been strangely absent from the entire party, and I suppose this is what he's been doing instead.

Those sneaky bitches. I should've known they were trying to lure me here. Are there any windows in here so I can fling myself out? The answer to that question is yes, however, I'm scared of heights, and the path to said escape is blocked by him, so it really is no use.

Instead of potentially hurting myself by doing something impulsive, I sit down on Sazuri's fuzzy purple rug, leaning my back against her mattress, knees curled to my chest. I might as well make myself comfortable if I'm going to be here a while. Maybe he won't see me since I'm hidden in the corner.

When I blink, my eyes gradually adjust to the dark, and I'm able to finally absorb my surroundings. If I wasn't so irritated with her, I'd admit that Sazuri's room is pretty cute. True to her character, there are drawings I recognize to be Blaise's work and strings of polaroids hung on her wall, most of which are taken at night on a beach. Other than the queen-sized bed with crocheted blankets pushed against the wall closest to me, the only other furniture in her room is a vanity desk with light bulbs stuck on the mirror.

The silence that follows is both deafening and suffocating all at once, making me realize that all the progress we've made has been lost. Now, we're back to square one, where I don't even know how to talk to him.

Instead of dwelling on that thought, I rest my chin on my arms, hopelessly failing at not watching him as he ignores me, purses his lips, and dips the brush in a muddy shade of green. I've never wanted to be a paintbrush so badly in my entire life.

Hate to admit it, but he's the most attractive when he's in his element, and it's making it really hard to stay angry with him. Or maybe it only fueled my fury. My heart is racing so loud that it drowns out the rest of the chattering in my mind, and might potentially beat right out of my chest.

"Did you devise this plan to hold me hostage?" I mutter so quietly I hope he doesn't hear it.

To my dismay, I think he does because he halts the painting, dunking the brush into a clear container of water before he sets all his materials on the floor and makes his way towards me. He sits down next to me, putting enough distance between us so I don't squirm away. "Was Nea that obvious?"

"Yeah, that wasn't exactly an Oscar-worthy performance."

"For real? I'm just lucky you believe her enough to not question it."

The implication he left in his response earns a sigh from me. "Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

The corner of his lip curls so faintly that I almost miss it. "Dunno. It's kinda hard to stay mad at you."

Annoyed, I grab a purple unicorn Pillow Pet set on top of Sazuri's covers, undo the velcro so it lays flat, and do what I've been wanting to since he snapped at me: hit him in the face with all my might. Fur side towards him of course. His head reels backward as he's caught off guard.

"Hey," he raises his arm, bracing himself for another attack that never comes. At least not yet. "What the fuck was that for?"

"For being a dumbass," I hiss at him, smacking him again and again with my weapon of choice. This time, he doesn't fight back. Just looks unfazed albeit a little amused.

"And being so fucking stupid—!" Whack.

"And hurting my feelings!" Another relentless strike unleashed on his shoulder this time.

"You are hurting that poor innocent horse," he tells me between hits.

Frowning, I freeze, hands still firmly gripping the Pillow Pet in midair. "It's a unicorn, stupid!"

"I deserve that," he sighs, grimacing. "I'm sorry. I guess I was more upset that I wasn't the one to quit first than anything."

Tongue-tied, I gawk at him, a mixture of relief and disappointment stirring in my veins. Good to know it wasn't 100% my fault. Unsure of what else to do, I smack him on the chest.

"Ow," he winces, rubbing the point of impact, "I'm vulnerable to you for five seconds and your first instinct is to fucking hit me?"

"And I'll do it again," I huff, tightening my grip on the soft fur, preparing for a shot on his head. Only, he grabs one of my wrists, his grip strong enough to cut off my circulation, the myriad of paint on his hands leaving an imprint on my skin, smacking the stuffed animal with his other hand so that it's near his left thigh. The action is so swift and overpowering that it catches me off guard. Of course, since I'm stubborn, I reach for it once more, except he intercepts my path, grabbing my other wrist, and tackling me onto my back. A straggled yelp escapes me as my head thuds against the carpeted floor, his hands pinning my wrists next to my ear and his bent knees pushing my inner thighs apart. Ripples of a dull ache start from the back of my skull, radiating to my temples, although they are insignificant compared to the woozy feeling in my head due to his proximity. He's so close that I'm reminded that he's in desperate need of a haircut—the frontal strands of hair that end right underneath his eyes graze the sides of my cheekbones while the hair on the base of his neck curls right underneath his earlobes.

"You're heavy," is all I can think to say.

Unexpectedly, he laughs, minty breath fanning my face. "I'm not even putting any weight on you."

Well, he's got me there. "So, um, are you gonna get off me anytime soon?"

"Dunno dude, this position is kind of comfortable."

A burst of desire erupts in my stomach, but I can't let him tempt me like this and force me to hang onto this false hope. "Blaise! Seriously!"

A cheeky grin forms on his face. Still, he frees my arms, bringing his hands to cup my face instead. Gulping, I allow him to run a warm thumb over my bottom lip and up the curve of my jaw.

It feels like a dream when he finally diminishes the space between us and pressing his lips against mine. I've fantasized about this moment more times than I care to admit, never once thinking it could become a reality, and he's a lot rougher than I imagined. He kisses me as if I am his lifeline, and he is on the brink of death. As if all the pining and yearning and longing and anticipation amounted to this very second. As if he's been so starved of my touch his entire life. Overwhelmed by the sheer intensity, we fall back onto the floor, limbs tangled together, not once breaking contact. He makes me so feverish and dizzy, pulling me so flush against him that if we were any closer, I swear we would've merged into one. Strong fingers find their way to my hips, where they sink so hard into my bone that I was afraid my pelvis might rupture.

My hands roam his scalp, massaging through strands of hair that are so much softer than they look.

Finally coming to my senses, I pull away, gasping for air. Hazy irises meet mine and I instantly crave his touch when he lets go.

"I think this is a bad idea," I blurt, averting eye contact. He's not the bad idea, obviously. He's everything I didn't know I wanted and that's terrifying and electrifying all at once.

He bunches my hair into a ponytail shape. "Then stop thinking about it," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world; planting a kiss on my hairline, the tip of my nose, the dip of my collarbone, and the sensitive part of my neck.

How could I not think about how he's going to leave me in 3 months time? I already missed him so much when we weren't talking, and how that pain is going to multiply by tenfold in the fall. Better to stop things now before it gets out of hand. That way, none of us would have to get hurt when the distance inevitably makes things more difficult.

Too bad my body reacts before my brain when he dips his head down to kiss me again, his lips so searing and intoxicating that it is almost impossible to refuse him. The hand lightly pulling my hair sets the rhythm we move to.

I'm way too attached to you, even though you're only temporary.

Gathering up the courage, I push him off me, this time with more force. He sits in front of me, leaning his weight onto his palms. Picking up on the hint, he rubs his eye, sheepishly pressing his lips together.

If Aria were alive, would he pick her instead?

I push that intrusive thought out of my mind.

"I just—this is wrong."

His eyebrows draw together. "Why?"

Because I'm a greedy person and I want you with me every second of every day, even though you can't promise me that. "Because," I begin, willing my voice not to shake, "You're going to leave me. I don't see the point in fanning the flames of a fire that will die eventually. Feels like we're betting on a losing dog at this point."

"Remiya," he hooks his index finger under my jaw, his thumb stamped on my chin, angling my head so I'm forced to look at him. Dazed, I oblige, unable to resist or think straight. My brain is telling me, no, but my heart is telling me, yes, and I'm a fool for listening to the latter. No one else can make me act this stupid, I swear. "I'm not going to leave you."

For a second, I wanted to suspend all my doubts due to the sincerity in his tone. I'd be a fool to deny myself of something I've wanted for so long, but I'd be a bigger fool for agreeing. This is such a dangerous game we're playing; a short-term period of bliss in exchange for inevitable heartbreak.

"Yes, you are," I insist, curling my fingers on his chest, "you're gonna go to Yale and forget about me and find someone much better while I'm gonna be stuck here in Warrington. I don't want to hold you back. This is high-risk gambling for something with an expiration date and lots of uncertainty."

"Hey listen to me, we can make this work because I think you are worth the risk and all the consequences that come with it. You make me believe that this is something worth fighting for, despite the obstacles. I'd walk the 900 miles to see you every day if you wanted me to, so will you please just give me a chance? Or at the very least, the summer?"

Despite myself, I think about my sister, and how she wanted to experience more of her youth before she passed. Life's too short not to jump at every opportunity that presents itself to you. Even if this ends badly, maybe I can learn something. But as it stands, maybe he's worth all the pain that's going to follow.

"Okay," I whisper, and he seals the promise with another quick kiss, tongue gently pressing against my lower lip. "As much as I want to pick up where we left off, I think the party's over."

"Shit, you're right," he groans, checking the clock once he stumbles onto his feet. 3:47 AM. "Sorry. I didn't expect to be so caught up in—you know."

During the time it takes for me to stand up, he smooths and adjusts his shirt, fastening the first few buttons that haven't broken.

As if on cue, Sazuri opens the door, shamelessly pretending to be shocked. Was she listening in? Hard to tell. "Oh my God, Remi, I'm sorry I forgot I left you in here."

Playfully, I shove her as Blaise ignores us, descending down the stairwell. "You bitch. Don't feign innocence with me. I'm never trusting you ever again."

"Fine by me," she giggles, gasping when she sees all the paint on my neck. "Jesus girl, you look like you got mauled."

"Don't remind me."

"So are you happy?"

"Yeah, yeah. Very happy."