Annie watched the ice melt in Steven's cup. It took exactly three seconds to ruin everything.
The bus smelled like hot vinyl. Annie pressed her forehead against the window, feeling the vibration rattle her teeth. Outside, the highway narrowed into the two-lane road that led to Oakhaven. The trees grew thicker, greener, practically choking the asphalt. It was summer. Everyone loved summer. Annie hated it. Summer meant sweat. Summer meant people.
She pulled her phone from her pocket. The screen was cracked across the bottom left corner, a spiderweb of glass that caught her thumb every time she swiped. Three unread messages from Leah.
"You here yet???"
"Annieeeee"
"I'm at the bus stop! Hurry up!"
Annie stared at the texts. She didn't reply. She let the screen go dark and slipped the phone back into her pocket. The bus groaned as it took the final turn onto Main Street. Oakhaven was a tourist trap disguised as a quaint coastal village. It had three ice cream shops on a single block, a boardwalk that smelled permanently of spilled beer and fried dough, and seagulls that were basically winged rats.
The air brakes hissed. The bus jerked to a stop. Annie grabbed her duffel bag from the seat next to her. The strap dug into her shoulder. She walked down the aisle, ignoring the bus driver's nod, and stepped out into the crushing humidity.
"Annie!"
Leah was a blur of neon pink and blonde hair. She slammed into Annie, wrapping her arms around her neck. Annie stumbled back a step, the duffel bag hitting her thigh.
"Hey," Annie said. Her voice was flat, but Leah didn't notice. Leah never noticed.
"I thought you missed the bus," Leah said, pulling back. She was wearing a matching pink crop top and shorts set. It looked brand new. It looked expensive. "I was literally about to call your mom."
"My phone died," Annie lied. She adjusted the strap of her bag. "And my mom is probably asleep."
Leah waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. You're here. That's all that matters. God, I missed you. This place is so boring until you get here."
Annie looked at Leah. Really looked at her. Leah's skin was already tanned. She had a subtle glow, a stupid, radiating happiness that made Annie's stomach turn over. Leah was a golden retriever in human form. She trusted everyone. She loved everything. And Annie was the only one who protected her from the actual, garbage world.
"Let's just drop my stuff off," Annie said. "I'm sweating through my shirt."
"Wait, no," Leah said, grabbing Annie's wrist. "I have to show you something first. Someone, actually."
Annie's jaw tightened. "Someone?"
"Just come on," Leah squealed, tugging her toward the boardwalk. "He's working right now. It'll just take a second."
Annie dragged her feet, the duffel bag bumping against her leg with every step. The boardwalk was crowded. Families pushed strollers. Teenagers clustered in loud, obnoxious groups. The sun beat down relentlessly, making the wooden planks radiate heat.
Leah stopped in front of a surf shop. The windows were plastered with faded Roxy decals. A rack of cheap sunglasses stood by the door.
"He's in there," Leah whispered, leaning close to Annie. "His name is Steven. He's a local."
"A local," Annie repeated. The word tasted bad in her mouth.
"He's so sweet, Annie. You're going to love him."
"I doubt that."
Leah rolled her eyes and pushed the glass door open. A bell jingled violently. The air conditioning inside hit Annie like a physical blow. It smelled like coconut wax and neoprene.
Behind the counter stood a boy. He looked about their age, maybe eighteen. He had messy brown hair, a faded gray t-shirt, and a silver chain around his neck. He was ringing up a middle-aged woman buying a boogie board.
"Here's your receipt," the boy said. His voice was slightly raspy.
The woman took the paper and left. The boy looked up. When he saw Leah, his entire face changed. His shoulders dropped. He smiled. It wasn't a cool, detached smile. It was a genuine, idiot smile.
"Hey," Steven said.
"Hey," Leah said back. She walked up to the counter, leaning her elbows on the glass display case. "Is your shift almost over?"
"Ten minutes," Steven said. He looked past Leah, his eyes landing on Annie. The smile faded slightly, replaced by confusion. "Who's this?"
"Oh!" Leah spun around. "This is Annie. My best friend. The one I was telling you about."
Annie walked forward slowly. She let her bag drop to the floor with a loud thud. She didn't smile. She stared at Steven's eyes. They were a dull, muddy brown. He had a small scar on his chin. His fingernails were bitten down to the quick.
"Nice to meet you," Steven said, offering a hand across the counter.
Annie looked at his hand. She didn't take it. "You bite your nails," she said.
Steven blinked, pulling his hand back slowly. He shoved it into his pocket. "Yeah. Bad habit."
"Annie," Leah hissed, a warning in her voice.
"What?" Annie asked, keeping her eyes on Steven. "It's unhygienic. Think of all the money you handle."
Steven let out a short, awkward laugh. "I use hand sanitizer."
"Cool," Annie said. She turned to Leah. "Can we go now? My bag is heavy."
Leah looked mortified. "Just give me a second, Annie."
Annie crossed her arms. She watched them. She watched the way Steven leaned toward Leah. She watched the way Leah played with the hem of her pink shirt. It made Annie sick. It was a physical sensation, a tight, twisting knot in her upper intestines. Leah belonged to her. They had spent the last three summers locked in Annie's dark bedroom, mocking the people outside, sharing headphones, eating stale cereal at 2 AM. They were a closed circuit.
Steven was a virus.
"So," Steven said to Leah, his voice dropping an octave. "Bonfire tomorrow night?"
"Definitely," Leah said, blushing.
"I'll text you when I'm off," Steven said.
Leah nodded, finally pulling away from the counter. "Okay. Bye."
"Bye, Leah. Nice meeting you, Annie."
Annie didn't answer. She picked up her bag and walked out the door before Leah could open it for her. The heat outside was instantly suffocating.
Leah jogged to catch up. "What is your problem?" she asked, her voice tight.
"Nothing," Annie said. "I'm tired."
"You were so rude to him. He's a really nice guy."
"He looks like he doesn't shower," Annie said, shifting the bag again. "And his posture is terrible. He stands like a question mark."
Leah frowned. "He does not."
"Leah, come on. Look at him. He's a boardwalk rat. He sells cheap sunglasses to tourists. You're wearing a two-hundred-dollar outfit. It's embarrassing."
Leah stopped walking. Annie kept going for two steps before turning around. Leah looked down at her pink shirt. The confidence was draining out of her face. Annie could see it happening in real time.
"Is this outfit too much?" Leah asked quietly.
"It's fine," Annie said, softening her voice to sound sympathetic. "It's just a little... loud. For Oakhaven. People are staring. But if you like it, who cares what they think?"
Leah crossed her arms over her chest. The glow was gone. "Let's just go to your house."
Annie smiled, a tiny, invisible movement of her cheek muscles. "Okay. Let's go."
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Annie's shoulder ached from the bag, but she didn't care. She felt the knot in her stomach loosen. The circuit was repairing itself. The static in her brain quieted down. She just had to keep pushing. Just a little at a time.
The abandoned lighthouse sat at the end of a rocky peninsula, a mile past the edge of town. The state had run out of money to tear it down, so it just sat there, rotting in the salt air. The white paint was peeling off in massive, curled strips that looked like dead skin.
It was three o'clock on Tuesday. The sun was a brutal, white-hot disc in the sky. Annie wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her sneakers slipped on the loose gravel of the trail.
"Are we almost there?" Leah complained from ahead of them. She was wearing a massive t-shirt today. No pink. No crop top. Annie had successfully bullied her out of it with two casual comments at breakfast.
"Almost," Steven said. He was walking behind Leah, carrying a backpack that clinked with water bottles. He kept trying to catch Leah's hand, but she kept using her hands to balance on the rocks.
Annie walked last. She watched the back of Steven's neck. He was sweating heavily. The gray t-shirt was dark between his shoulder blades.
"This trail is closed, you know," Annie said to his back. "If we get fined, you're paying for it."
Steven didn't look back. "Nobody comes out here, Annie. The cops don't care."
"Right. Because you know all the cops."
Steven stopped. He turned around to face her. His jaw was tight. "What is your deal?"
"What?" Annie asked, her eyes wide and innocent. "I'm just asking a question."
"Guys, come on," Leah called out. She had reached the base of the lighthouse. There was a rusted metal door hanging off its hinges. "Look! It's open!"
Leah ducked inside the dark doorway. Steven sighed, turning away from Annie, and followed her in. Annie waited a beat, letting the silence settle, before stepping into the gloom.
The inside of the lighthouse was freezing. The air smelled intensely of mildew and old rust. A spiral metal staircase wound its way up the center of the hollow tower, disappearing into the darkness above.
"I'm going to the top!" Leah yelled, her voice echoing loudly against the brick walls. She immediately started climbing, her footsteps clanging against the metal grates.
"Be careful!" Steven yelled up to her. "Some of those steps are rusted through!"
"I'm fine!" Leah's voice floated down.
Steven put a hand on the railing and started to climb. Annie moved quickly. She stepped onto the stairs right behind him, so close her shoulder brushed his backpack.
"Wait," Annie said quietly.
Steven stopped on the third step. He looked down at her. "What?"
Annie looked up at the darkness above. Leah was already several floors up. The clanging of her footsteps was loud enough to cover a conversation. Annie looked back at Steven. She stepped up onto the second step, bringing her face inches from his chest.
"Leah told me about your mom," Annie said. Her voice was flat, totally devoid of empathy.
Steven froze. His hands gripped the metal railing tight enough to turn his knuckles white. "What?"
"Your mom. The overdose. Two years ago, right?"
Steven's breathing hitched. The whites of his eyes showed in the gloom. "Leah... Leah shouldn't have told you that."
"We tell each other everything," Annie said, staring directly into his muddy brown eyes. She didn't blink. "She tells me how you cry about it. How you get all weird and quiet. It's kind of pathetic, honestly."
Steven's chest heaved. He took a step back, bumping into the stair behind him. "Shut up."
"How did you find her?" Annie asked, leaning in. "Was she on the floor? Did she foam at the mouth? I read they foam at the mouth."
"Shut up!" Steven hissed, his voice cracking. He looked terrified. He looked like he wanted to punch her, but his hands were shaking violently. He pushed past her, stumbling down the three steps to the concrete floor. He was gasping for air.
"Where are you going?" Annie asked, her voice mocking.
Steven didn't answer. He turned and bolted out the rusted metal door, disappearing into the blinding sunlight outside.
Annie stood on the stairs. She smiled. Her heart was beating fast, a thrilling, electric rhythm in her chest. It was so easy. People were so fragile. You just had to find the crack and push your thumb into it.
She waited two minutes. She counted the seconds in her head. Then, she started climbing.
She climbed until she reached the top observation deck. Leah was standing by the broken glass windows, looking out at the ocean.
"Where's Steven?" Leah asked, turning around.
Annie stopped at the top of the stairs. She forced her breathing to speed up. She let her shoulders slump. She looked down at the floor.
"Annie?" Leah asked, her voice dropping. She walked over. "What's wrong? You look pale."
"I... I don't know how to say this," Annie stammered. She wrapped her arms around herself.
"Say what? Where is he?"
"He left," Annie said quietly.
"Why?"
Annie looked up. She forced tears into her eyes. It was a trick she learned when she was ten. Just stare at the sun until they sting, then blink. "We were on the stairs. He stopped me. He... he grabbed my waist, Leah."
Leah stepped back. "What? No. No, he wouldn't."
"He pinned me against the railing," Annie said, her voice shaking perfectly. "He tried to kiss me. I pushed him away. I told him he was with you."
Leah's face crumbled. "Annie, are you serious?"
"I'm sorry," Annie whispered. "He got mad when I pushed him. He said I was a bitch. And then he said... he said you were just a stupid summer fling anyway. That you were easy."
Leah put a hand over her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears. "He said that?"
"I swear to God, Leah. I'm so sorry. I told you he was a creep. I told you."
Leah started crying. She sank down onto the dirty metal floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Annie knelt beside her. She put an arm around Leah's shaking shoulders. She stroked Leah's hair.
"It's okay," Annie whispered. "I'm here. I've got you. You don't need him."
They sat there for twenty minutes. Annie felt a deep, profound sense of peace.
But the peace didn't last.
When they climbed down and walked back to town, Leah pulled out her phone. Her hands were shaking as she typed a massive text block. Annie watched her hit send.
"What did you do?" Annie asked.
"I asked him," Leah sobbed. "I confronted him."
Annie's stomach tightened. "Why would you do that? I told you what happened!"
"I just need to hear what he says!"
Three dots appeared on the screen. Steven was typing. Annie stared at the phone. She felt the sweat break out on her neck again. The dots vanished. A message appeared.
"I swear to God I didn't do that. She's lying. She said horrible things to me on the stairs. Leah, please. Meet me at the pier. Please."
Leah stared at the text. She looked at Annie.
"He's lying," Annie said immediately. Her voice was too loud.
Leah looked back at her phone. She typed: "Okay. I'm coming."
Annie grabbed Leah's wrist. "What are you doing? He assaulted me!"
Leah pulled her wrist away. Her eyes were red, but there was a hardness in them Annie had never seen before. "I need to talk to him, Annie. Just... go home. I'll text you later."
Leah turned and walked away toward the pier. Annie stood on the sidewalk, the sun beating down on her head. Her jaw ached from clenching it so hard.
She failed. Leah was choosing the virus.
Annie turned and walked toward her house. Her boots hit the concrete hard. She wasn't sad. She wasn't anxious. She was blindingly, violently angry. If words wouldn't work, she would have to use something else. She would have to burn the whole thing down.
Annie's house smelled like stale cigarettes and lemon Pledge. Her mother was asleep on the couch, the television playing a muted infomercial. The blinds were drawn, casting the living room in a sickly, yellow gloom. Annie walked past the couch without looking at her mother. She went straight to the kitchen.
The liquor cabinet was above the refrigerator. Annie dragged a dining chair over, climbed up, and pulled the wooden door open. It squeaked. She froze, listening. Her mother snored loudly from the other room.
Annie reached into the back of the cabinet. Her fingers brushed past dusty wine bottles and half-empty handles of cheap rum. She found what she was looking for: a bottle of bottom-shelf vodka. It was a quarter full. Her mother wouldn't miss it. She probably didn't even remember buying it.
Annie climbed down. She grabbed a plastic water bottle from the recycling bin, rinsed it out in the sink, and poured the vodka into it. The clear liquid splashed against the plastic. It smelled like rubbing alcohol and bad decisions. She screwed the cap on tight and shoved it into her backpack.
Steven was a recovering addict. Annie had seen the chip in his wallet when he paid for fries two days ago. A little bronze coin. One year.
He wanted to play games? Fine.
The beach bonfire started at nine. The air was cool, but the fire was massive, throwing orange light across the sand. Dozens of teenagers stood around in clusters, holding red plastic cups, laughing over the sound of a Bluetooth speaker blasting bass-heavy rap.
Annie stood near the edge of the light. She watched Leah and Steven. They were sitting on a log together. Leah was laughing at something he said. They had made up. Leah had chosen to believe Steven's denials, or at least chosen to ignore Annie's accusations. It made Annie sick to her stomach.
"I'm going to get a soda," Steven said to Leah. Annie could read his lips over the music. He stood up and walked toward the coolers buried in the sand near the speaker.
Annie moved. She slipped through the crowd, keeping her head down. She reached the coolers just as Steven pulled out a can of cola. He popped the tab.
"Hey, Steven!" a guy yelled from the water's edge. "Come help drag this driftwood!"
Steven set his open can on top of the cooler. "Coming!"
He jogged toward the water. Annie stepped up to the cooler. She glanced around. Everyone was watching the guys wrestle with a massive piece of wet wood. Nobody was looking at her.
Annie pulled the water bottle from her backpack. She unscrewed the cap. She tipped it over Steven's can. The vodka poured out in a steady, silent stream. She emptied half the bottle into the can. The cola fizzed violently, then settled. Annie screwed the cap back on, dropped the bottle in her bag, and walked away.
She went back to her spot on the edge of the light. She waited.
Steven came back three minutes later, wiping sand off his hands. He grabbed his can from the cooler. He walked back to Leah. He sat down.
Annie held her breath.
Steven raised the can to his lips. He took a massive, thirsty gulp.
He swallowed.
Annie watched his face. It took exactly three seconds for the realization to hit.
Steven froze. He lowered the can slowly. His eyes widened. He looked at the can. He looked at Leah. He started to cough. It was a dry, hacking cough. He dropped the can into the sand. The dark liquid spilled out, soaking into the dirt.
"Steven?" Leah asked, leaning toward him. "Are you okay?"
Steven couldn't speak. He grabbed his own throat. His chest was heaving. He stood up so fast he knocked the log backward.
"Hey!" someone yelled.
Steven stumbled backward. He looked around wildly. The firelight caught the sheer, unadulterated panic in his eyes. He was having a full-blown panic attack.
"Steven, what's wrong?" Leah stood up, reaching for him.
"Don't touch me!" Steven screamed. His voice was shrill, cracking loudly over the music.
The music stopped. Someone had paused the speaker. The entire party turned to look at them.
Steven was hyperventilating. He looked at his hands, then at the spilled can. "No. No, no, no."
He turned and ran. He didn't run toward the boardwalk. He ran straight down the beach, into the pitch-black darkness, away from the light. He looked erratic. He looked insane.
Leah stood by the log, her hands hovering in the air. She looked around at the crowd. People were whispering. Someone laughed uncomfortably.
Leah covered her face with her hands and started to sob.
Annie walked out of the shadows. She moved slowly, deliberately. She walked right up to Leah and wrapped her arms around her. Leah collapsed against Annie's shoulder, crying so hard her whole body shook.
"Shh," Annie whispered, stroking the back of Leah's head. "I'm here. I've got you."
"What happened to him?" Leah choked out. "Why did he freak out?"
"I don't know," Annie lied. Her voice was smooth, calming. "I told you he was unstable, Leah. You didn't listen to me."
"He was acting crazy!" Leah cried.
"He is crazy," Annie whispered, her lips right against Leah's ear. "People are broken, Leah. They're all messed up. I'm the only one who gets you. I'm the only one who's going to protect you from this shit."
Leah nodded against Annie's shoulder, her tears soaking through Annie's shirt. Annie held her tighter. The fire popped and hissed behind them. Annie looked out over Leah's shoulder, out into the dark beach where Steven had disappeared.
She smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. It was the barest pulling back of the lips, a baring of teeth. She had him. He was done.
The boardwalk was empty at 6:00 AM. The arcades were shuttered, pulling metal grates down over their flashing lights. The seagulls picked through overturned trash cans, fighting over stale french fries. The air was cold, damp with morning fog.
Annie sat on a bench facing the ocean. She had a massive, bitter coffee in a paper cup. She didn't drink it. She just held it to keep her hands warm.
Footsteps sounded on the wooden planks. Slow, dragging footsteps.
Annie turned her head. Steven was walking toward her. He looked completely destroyed. His clothes were wrinkled, covered in dry sand. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed with deep, purple bags. He hadn't slept. He looked like he had spent the entire night walking the shoreline.
He stopped ten feet away from the bench. He looked at Annie.
"You did it," Steven said. His voice was a rasp, barely louder than the waves hitting the pilings under the pier.
"Did what?" Annie asked flatly.
"The drink. You spiked my drink."
Annie took a slow sip of her coffee. It burned her tongue. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Steven took a step forward. His hands were curled into loose fists at his sides. "I tasted it. Vodka. You knew. You saw my chip. You put vodka in my drink."
"That's a wild accusation, Steven," Annie said, setting the cup down on the bench. "Do you have any proof? Or are you just trying to cover up the fact that you relapsed?"
Steven flinched like she had hit him. "I didn't relapse! I didn't know!"
"Nobody's going to believe that," Annie said. She leaned back against the bench, crossing her legs. "You completely lost your mind last night. You screamed at Leah in front of fifty people. You ran away into the dark. You look like a junkie right now."
Steven stared at her. The anger drained out of his face, replaced by a hollow, crushing despair. "Why are you doing this? I never did anything to you."
"You existed," Annie said softly. "You tried to take her from me."
"Take her? She's a person, Annie. She's not your property."
"She's mine," Annie corrected him. "She doesn't know how to survive without me. She's stupid. She's soft. You would just hurt her eventually. I just sped up the timeline."
Steven shook his head slowly. "You're sick. You are deeply, mentally sick."
Annie stood up. She walked over to him. She didn't stop until she was inches away from his face. She smelled the dried sweat and salt water on his clothes.
"Here's what's going to happen," Annie said, dropping her voice to a dead, mechanical whisper. "You are going to break up with her. Right now. You're going to tell her you relapsed. You're going to tell her you're a danger to her, and you need to leave town to get clean. If you don't do that, I will tell everyone on this boardwalk that you chose to drink. I will ruin your life here. I'll tell your boss. I'll tell Leah's parents."
Steven's breath caught in his throat. Tears welled up in his bloodshot eyes. "You wouldn't."
"Try me," Annie said. She stared at him, unblinking. "Pull out your phone."
Steven didn't move for ten seconds. The wind blew a stray piece of trash across the wooden planks between them. Then, slowly, defeatedly, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone. The screen was cracked.
"Type it," Annie demanded.
Steven's thumb hovered over the screen. His hand was shaking so badly he dropped the phone once. He picked it up. He opened his messages with Leah.
Annie watched over his shoulder.
'Leah, I'm so sorry. I drank last night. I relapsed. I'm completely out of control. I'm leaving town today to stay with my aunt in Boston. I need to get clean. Please don't contact me. I'm toxic. I'll only hurt you. I'm sorry.'
Steven stared at the message. A tear slipped down his cheek, landing on the glass screen.
"Send it," Annie whispered.
Steven closed his eyes. He pressed his thumb against the screen. A tiny blue swoosh sound played. Delivered.
"Good boy," Annie said. She turned around and walked back to the bench. She picked up her coffee. She didn't look back as Steven turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped, his life in Oakhaven completely over.
Three hours later, Annie's phone buzzed on her nightstand.
"Annie. Please come over. Please."
The text from Leah was followed by a string of crying emojis.
Annie took her time getting dressed. She put on a clean shirt. She brushed her hair. She walked the six blocks to Leah's massive, expensive rental house.
She found Leah sitting on the back deck, staring out at the beach. Leah was wearing sweatpants and a massive hoodie. Her face was swollen, splotchy, and red. She looked awful. She looked ruined.
Annie walked over and sat down next to her on the cold wooden deck.
"He left," Leah croaked, her voice completely destroyed. "He texted me and he left. He relapsed, Annie. You were right. You were right about everything."
Leah leaned over and buried her face in Annie's shoulder. She sobbed, a deep, guttural sound of total heartbreak.
Annie wrapped her arms around Leah. She rested her chin on the top of Leah's head. She looked out at the ocean. The waves were gray and choppy. The summer was basically over.
Annie held the hand of the girl she had completely broken. She waited for the rush of victory. She waited for the security, the warmth of knowing Leah was hers forever.
But as Leah's tears soaked through her shirt, Annie felt nothing. The knot in her stomach was gone, but it hadn't been replaced by peace. It was just a cold, hollow cavity. A massive, gray weight in her chest.
She tightened her grip on Leah's hand anyway.
“She tightened her grip on Leah's hand anyway.”
