Lux thought she knew exactly how this cruise would go: two weeks of awkward family dinners, no cell service, and way too much time to overthink the silence from the boy who stopped choosing her. She planned to keep her head down, her heart guarded...
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Two months.
It's not that long. People get over heartbreaks in less. People change schools, change hair, change lives in two months. So I keep telling myself I should be fine.
School started again like nothing ever happened. Same teachers. Same people. Same version of me that I can't seem to crawl back into.
Everyone asks how the cruise was. I say it was fine.
They ask if I met anyone.
I say no.
I've gotten good at lying.
The truth is a different kind of monster. The kind that only creeps in when I'm alone. When I'm brushing my teeth and remember how someone once kissed me mid-sentence just to shut me up. How I laughed after.
I shake the thought away every time it comes, like I can scrub it out of my memory if I try hard enough.
I don't want to think about him.
So I don't.
Or at least I try.
Which is why I text Josh.
The party's a mess - beer on the floor, music that feels too loud in my chest, strangers leaning too close. But it's easy to disappear here. Easy to pretend I'm just like everyone else, bored and buzzed and maybe looking for a hookup.
Josh finds me before I find him.
He grins when he sees me, all teeth and cheap charm. "Well, look who crawled out of her sad girl cave. Cruise guy didn't stick?"
My stomach twists, but I smile. It's tight. Hollow.
I kiss him before I can stop myself.
We go upstairs.
It's all muscle memory. His room. His touch. His too-familiar breath on my neck.
At one point, he says something like "Missed this," and I almost laugh. Or cry. I'm not sure which.
I close my eyes.
For a second, my mind slips. Just a flicker.
A different voice. Whispering something in the dark - "You always bite your lip when you're overthinking."
A hand on my waist, steady and warm, not in a rush to take - just there to hold.
I force myself back to the present. To the weight of someone I don't want pressing down on me.
When it's over, I feel nothing. Not even regret.
Just... empty.
I slip out of bed, grab a bottle off the kitchen counter, and drink until my skin stops itching with guilt.
By the time I walk home, my head's buzzing and my feet are unsteady. But at least I'm not thinking.
That's what I wanted, right?
I make it through the front door without waking anyone - or so I think.
Until the hallway light clicks on.
Lacey.
She's sitting on the bottom stair, arms crossed, sweatshirt too big. She doesn't say anything for a second. Just stares.
"You're drunk," she says.
I shrug. "So?"
She stands. Crosses her arms tighter. "Where were you?"
"Out."
"With Josh?"
Still don't answer.
"That's what we're doing now?" she asks. "Running backwards?"
I lean against the wall, suddenly more exhausted than I've ever been. "It's not a big deal."
"You've been like this for weeks, Lux. You barely talk. You come home late. You sleep all day. And now this?"
I want to scream. I want to disappear.
"I just wanted to feel something," I whisper instead.
She stares at me for a long time. "You miss him."
The words crack something wide open.
"I don't-"
"You do."
I squeeze my eyes shut. "I didn't even get his number."
She exhales, her tone softer. "I know."
"I thought it'd be easier. You know?" I look at her, eyes glassy. "To keep it clean. No attachment. Just... something to forget when it was over."
"Some things don't want to be forgotten."
I laugh, sharp and broken. "Yeah. I'm learning that."
She walks closer, hesitates - then pulls me into a hug. I let her.
Because I don't have the energy to lie anymore.
Because there's still salt water in my lungs.
Because I can't stop dreaming about a boy I never planned on missing.
