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“And getting laid on the flatbeds of our beat-up pickups,” Carson chuckles. “Man, those were the fuckin’ days.”

“And streaking across the quad after Fletch lost a bet to me,” I laugh. We reminisce about the good ol’ days, laughing at our antics, but in the back of my mind, I think back to everything that happened with Reese. It’s involuntary, thinking about how I screwed up, and before I can will myself not to do it, I think back to the night of our senior prom.

Jessica fluffs her hair, and turns to her friend, Sarah, for yet another make-up check. When she’s satisfied, she turns to me, and straightens my tie. “What is with you tonight, Thorin?” She snaps, noticing my sour mood. “If I knew you were going to be so damn pissy, I would have come with someone else.” With a huff, she drags me over to the arch trellis covered in roses where the photographer snaps pictures. She grabs my arms and wraps them around her waist. “Smile, and look like you damn well mean it,” she gripes through gritted teeth. “Do not ruin this night for me.” Her mouth splits, showing off her straight white teeth, and she pushes her chest out. As if her blue two-piece dress doesn’t already show off enough of her damn tits. I smile, play the dutiful boyfriend, and after three different poses, Jessica pulls me to the side. She looks pissed, but what’s new?

“I’m going to get some punch, and when I come back, you can at least pretend you want to be here with me.” When she gives me her back, her blue skirt flowing behind her, I exhale in relief. Yeah, I’m going to have to pretend because this is the last place I want to be. I mean, its senior prom, I’m nominated for prom king, and yet, I’m counting down the minutes so I can leave. I shouldn’t be here with Jessica, but I was too much of a pussy to tell her I didn’t want to come with her anymore. She’d bitch about it, and tell me that the prom king and queen always come together, as if we’ve already won. But whatever. I wasn’t in the mood for another fight because that’s all we do. For the last few months it’s been fighting and sex, but now it’s just fighting, and to be honest, this is not how I imagined my senior prom. Most guys don’t give a shit about this night, they just see it as another excuse to get laid, but I knew exactly what I wanted my senior prom to look like, who I wanted to come with. Too bad I fucked shit up real bad. My mind drifts to Reese, and I wonder what she’s doing tonight, if someone asked her. She’d love how romantic everything looks, right down to the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling. It’s everything I know she would have expected—the color scheme, the decor, the cheesy rose arch for photographs. My eyes scan the crowd for her, but my search comes to an abrupt halt when Jessica appears at my side. She hands me a solo cup, and it’s been spiked so hard I can smell the whiskey. Whatever. I chug it in one go, and lead Jessica onto the dance floor. She flaunts herself, like a damn peacock. The song is slow, so we’re tightly pressed together and holding her in my arms just feels so wrong. Our friends join us, and soon the dance floor is filled with couples. I stare over Jessica’s head, praying for the song to end, but there’s a commotion at the door before the entire gymnasium falls quiet. “You can’t come in without a ticket,” someone says close to the doors.

“Fuck you, Beth-Anne.” I know that voice. I swivel so fast, Jessica trips on her five-inch heels. “What the fuck, Thorin?” She screeches. I’ve already tuned her out. The crowd parts, and Reese stands still. She’s already crying. Why is she—shit. I take a second to take in how beautiful she looks, wearing a powder pink dress with a layered tulle skirt that flows around her ballet pumps. It’s what she’s always wanted to wear for this night, and it’s a gut check when I realize I remember exactly what she wanted to wear. Her blond hair flows in ringlets around her shoulders, clipped back on one side by a diamond-crusted clip I know belongs to my mom. My mom did this for her, I just know it. That makes me feel worse.

“I can’t believe it,” Jessica snickers beside me, loud enough for everyone else to hear. “You actually showed.” I frown, but keep my gaze on Reese. She starts walking towards me, a piece of paper clutched in her hands, her make-up already ruined. She stops in front of me, and shoves the paper at my chest. “I waited for you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.

I open the note, confused as fuck. The scribble reads, Go to prom with me? - Thorin. What the hell? It’s not even my handwriting. Jessica starts cackling next to me, and almost doubles over. Some people join her, others watch me.

“You actually believed he asked you to prom,” Jessica laughs, wiping under eyes. “You’ve reached a new low, Peppa Pig. As if Thorin of all people would ever bring you to our senior prom.”

“You did this?” I ask Jessica, barely hanging on to my fury. I knew coming with her was a mistake, that breaking the promise I made four years ago was a mistake.

Before Jessica can reply, Reese shoves me. “You asshole!” She screams. “I waited for you! For over two hours! Was it a joke to you, too? Did you do it on purpose?”

I reach for her, but she slaps my hand away. “Reese, I didn’t—”

Jessica cuts me off. “No, he didn’t.” Her smile turns facetious. “But I did. For old times sake.”

With lightening speed, Reese slaps me across the face, hard enough that I know it’ll leave a mark. “I hate you, Thorin Decker.” She turns to Jessica. “This is the last time, Jessica. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.” She spins on her heel, and runs for the exit. Jessica grabs my arm, and sneers. “Go after her, and we’re over, Thorin.”

I snatch my arm from her grip. “We’ve been over, Jessica. And I’ve finally realized the girl I love isn’t you.” She gasps, but I’m already running after Reese. I catch her in the parking lot, hurriedly climbing into her dad’s car. “Reese! Wait!”

“No, Thorin. I’m done waiting. When I got that note I thought you remembered, ‘under the same sky’, right? But the joke is on me, yet again. But don’t worry, after tonight I’ll be out of your life for good.” She slams the door shut, and peels out of the lot. Damnit. I need a damn car. We came in a limo, and it’s not scheduled to pick us up until midnight. I run back inside, and find Benji. “Dude, I need your truck. Now.” He looks pissed, but rather than tell me what a dumbass I am, he hands me the keys. I’m out of there in a heartbeat, and drive like hell all over town, wondering where Reese would go. If her parents are home, that’s the last place she’ll be. I skid to a stop in our driveway, the sound drawing my parents outside.

“Thorin, what’s wrong, Son? What are you doing home?” My dad asks, his brows furrowed.

“Is Reese here?”

“No, honey,” Mom steps outside, “she got ready here, and then said you’d fetch her at her house. Is something wrong?” She got ready at my place? That makes zero sense.

“Fuck!” I yell. I pull out my phone and call her. Goes straight to voicemail. “Do you know if her parents are home?”

“No idea, but how about you tell us what’s going on and we can help?” Dad offers.

“I screwed up,” I tell them. “But I have to go.”

I’m back in the truck, and fishtailing it down the driveway. Going to Reese’s house is a risk if her parents are home, they hate me, but it’s worth a shot. I check the time, and realize I’ve been driving around like a lunatic for almost an hour. My body sags in relief when I see Reese’s dad’s car stopped at the curb outside their house. Lights are off, so I pray it’s just Reese. The door’s unlocked—odd—but when I hear the sound of rushing water, I race upstairs. I snuck inside many times as a kid so I know Reese has an en-suite bathroom. I rush through her room, and shove her bathroom door open, almost slipping on the tiles. I look down at how much water there is, and then flick my gaze to the giant clawfoot tub. The water overflows, tinged with red. Reese’s limp, underwear-clad body lies adrift, her arms hanging over the edges.

My heart stops.

“No, no, no, no…” I kneel down, and, fuck, I don’t know where to touch her. There’s so much fucking blood. Reese’s wrists are slit, vertical cuts. Blood runs down her arms, and one look at her pale skin tells me she’s already unconscious.

“Reese!” I scream. “No! Please.” I cup her face. “Open your eyes, Reese!”

Nothing.

“Fuck!” Tears run down my cheeks unchecked, and I can feel my heart splitting open. This isn’t happening. “Please, God, no!”

I fumble for my phone and call 911, and then I call Benji. The EMT’s are pushing me away ten minutes later, and when they find a pulse—a weak one—they carry Reese out on a gurney. Benji and I follow in his truck, my hands shaking, covered in dry blood. My suit is ruined, but I don’t care. As long as she lives. My pulse skitters when she’s rushed into the ER, and I almost take out a male nurse when he tells me I have to wait in the waiting area before I can see her. “She has to be okay,” I tell Benji. He takes a seat next to me and we wait. And wait. And wait. I expect Reese’s parents to show, but they don’t. Mine do, and when they take one look at me, Mom’s in tears and Dad’s telling me everything will be okay. I want to believe him, and when they finally allow me to see her, I think he might be right. Except when she wakes up, hours later, and sees me, her words send my world crumbling to pieces.

“You should have let me die,” she whispers. “Now leave, and don’t ever come back.”

Carson snaps his fingers in front of my face, reminding me of where I am. “Yo, Thor, did you go to Asgard again?” He chuckles, and I slap his hand away. “Sorry, zoned out.” Benji watches me, and I swear he knows exactly where my head was at seconds ago. He knows I haven’t exactly been myself since the bonfire, and why Reese’s song choice would wreck me, even days later. It triggered something in me, and I haven’t been able to wrangle my own feelings into submission. I straighten, plastering a grin on my face. “What were we talking about?”