Fire Burning

Beach Party

When we arrived at the beach, I immediately noticed how tightly Addie clung to my arm. Her energy buzzed with excitement, her fingers wrapping around mine as we stepped out of the car. Aristotle and Hades walked ahead of us, casual and confident, like they owned the shoreline.

The moment we hit the sand, all eyes turned.

People stopped talking. A few heads tilted. Others whispered. I could feel the weight of their stares like pressure on my skin.

That’s when I realized—the three of them weren’t just well-known. They were known. The kind of known that makes people pause mid-sentence. The kind of known that leaves no room for someone like me to just fade in unnoticed.

All I wanted this summer was to be invisible.

But with this family, that wasn’t going to happen.

Ahead, the bonfire blazed in a tower of orange and gold, smoke rising into the ink-blue sky. The music thumped against the night, shaking the ground beneath our feet. Teens danced wildly in the firelight, red solo cups in hand. Others were playing drinking games or laying in the sand, staring up at the stars like they had no weight left in the world.

It was chaos. Beautiful, wild chaos.

I stuck close to Addie as we made our way toward the drink table a few feet from the fire. I scanned it, trying to find anything non-alcoholic. The plastic bottles were mostly vodka, tequila, mixers. I sighed.

"Em, here! I made you something! We gotta get wasted, girl!" Addie said, her smile radiant.

She handed me a red solo cup, eyes glittering with mischief.

"Thanks," I said, taking the cup but not drinking. "But I don’t really want to."

She blinked. "Oh. Why not?"

I hesitated, then quietly said, "My dad’s a drunk. He used to hit my mom. I guess I always thought if I started drinking, I’d turn into him."

Addie’s smile dropped. She stepped closer, her voice lowering.

"Em... you’re not your father. People choose who they want to be—with or without addictions. If you don’t want to drink, that’s valid. But you having one fun drink with people who care about you? That doesn’t make you him. That just makes you you. And I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Neither will my brothers."

I stared down at the drink. Then back up at her.

I nodded slowly.

She smiled and nudged my arm. "Just sip. You'll be fine. It’s strawberry and lemonade."

I took a small drink. It tasted sweet, light. Nothing bitter. Just sugar and summer.

"This is really good," I said.

Addie giggled.

"What?"

"It doesn’t even have alcohol in it yet. That’s just the pregame. Here—vodka. Little splash. It’ll taste gross at first, but it gets better."

She poured it in with a wink. I drank it. She wasn’t wrong. The bitterness burned at first, but by the second drink... I barely noticed.

The night blurred softly after that. Everything started feeling lighter. Louder. Funnier.

Addie drifted off toward a guy with soft curls and a guitar. I stayed by the fire, watching the waves crash in rhythm. I hugged my knees, my bare feet digging into the sand. The stars above felt like they belonged to someone else.

Eventually, I stood and walked closer to the fire. My solo cup hung loosely from my fingers as I swayed a little to the music. The warmth of the flames, the beat of the bass, the soft buzz from the drink... I felt oddly content. Like the weight on my chest had lifted just slightly.