Page 82 of Firefly
I miss you.
Then another.
Firefly:
Please say something.
I stare at the messages while dawn slowly creeps over Whitestone, and suddenly, all I can think about… is climbing into bed beside her instead of returning home to cold empty sheets.
I miss you too, Firefly. I miss you, too.
Ophelia
“Trap Queen-Fetty Wap”
The warehouse is alive tonight. Not party alive. Safe alive. Like the outside world can’t touch us inside these rusted metal walls full of stolen liquor and emotionally damaged teenagers pretending we aren’t all about to snap completely in half one of these days.
But honestly, it’s comforting.
Music echoes through the mostly empty warehouse while Bianca destroys Asher at beer pong for the third game now.
“You’re cheating,” Asher accuses dramatically while tossing another ball at her head.
She catches it one-handed and flips him off. “Maybe you just suck.”
Stone nearly falls off the couch laughing. “That’s what she said,”
“Stone,” I deadpan, already halfway drunk. “You have the maturity level of a moldy pop-tart.”
He points at me immediately. “And yet, I’m everyone's favorite.” He grins.
“No one said that,” Bianca chimes in.
“I said it in my heart.” He laughs, then blows her a kiss.
I laugh harder than I should while curled sideways in a beanbag chair, holding another drink.
For the first time in days, my chest doesn’t feel quite so heavy. Probably because I’m intoxicated enough to temporarily forget my life is a dumpster fire wrapped in designer clothing.
My phone buzzes again in my lap. Brayden. He is not who I want to speak to right now. Still nothing from Hayden though. I know what he did the other night. I saw it. I fucking watched on the cameras. He killed that man for touching me, and I just want to hear it from his fucking mouth, but he refuses to answer me. So, I glare at the screen dramatically. “I hate men.”
Asher snorts from the couch he just plopped into. “Bold statement considering you keep kissing them.”
“I only kiss emotionally devastating ones,” I say, and Stone lifts his beer proudly.
“Consistency matters,” he says as Bianca snatches my phone before I can stop her.
“Oh my god, O.”
“What?”
“You’ve texted him thirteen times,” she says in shock, and I try to snatch it back from her grip.
“That is none of your business.” But she starts reading it anyway.
“Hayden answer me.” Bianca grins. “Hayden, I hate you. Hayden, please answer me. Hayden, if you died again, I’ll literally kill you.”
Asher wheezes laughing while I bury my face in the pillow beside me. “Delete yourself, fuck!”
