“I am fixing me. In Delaware.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“It’s true. I’ve learned so much about myself in the last year. I mean, I won’t lie and tell you it’s all been sunshine and rainbows. There have been some really difficult and really lonely times, but I’ve also learned a lot about myself.”

“Are you done learning?”

“Not yet,” I answer quietly, watching her brush away a couple of tears.

“I really believed in you and Max.”

I smile at her, not wanting to confirm that I had too.

“I love you, Harper.”

“I love you too, Abs.” I squeeze her hand again. “Go Google about your bedroom issues. Just be careful of what links you click on,” I tease.

“This week is going to go by too fast,” she says, ignoring my joke.

“They say that time always does.” I drop her fingers and softly run my hand over her belly before climbing out of the car.

“Harper?”

I turn, ducking down to the gap of the open door.

“I still believe.”

“You can’t cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water.”

–Rabindranath Tagore

“Why do they hate us?” Kendall groans, crawling on the couch beside me.

“What is that?” My voice is barely audible from where I’ve buried my head beneath the covers.

“Max and Landon,” Kendall whines, burying her face so her cheek’s beside mine.

“I think I drank too much,” I admit.

“We did.”

Eventually the noise drowns out, and Kendall’s steady breathing comforts me into finding sleep again.

“I warned you guys to stop.” Jameson’s voice taunts, and I choose to ignore it, hoping that Kendall will tell him to shut up. When she doesn’t, I nestle further against the pillow, preparing to search for more comforting sleep until cold air slices across my skin as our blanket is whipped off with a harsh tug.

My entire body seems to feel the burn, causing my eyes to begrudgingly open to ensure I’m wearing something more than just underwear. I am, but barely—just a tiny pair of shorts and a tank top with a built in bra that presses against my chest in a particularly uncomfortable fashion.

“What am I wearing?”

“You guys decided to switch clothes. There was a lot of giggling, and I think Mindi has your shirt from last night,” Jameson answers, folding the blanket.

“You guys look like you hurt.” My eyes shift to see Wes sitting on the far side of the couch, looking at us in amusement.

“What are you guys doing?” Kendall grumbles quietly because I know, like me, her head is aching too badly to yell at them.

“I told you guys to take it easy last night, especially since you drank too much the night before.” Jameson looks to Kendall. “We have that dinner tonight for my work. You’ve got to rehydrate.”

Kendall groans in response, and Jameson sets down two mugs of coffee. The scent alone makes my stomach roll and I shake my head in protest.

“I don’t even remember coming home.”

“What can you remember?” Jameson asks me, his tone suspicious. I open my eyes to see Kendall staring at me, the look of pain in her eyes recedes, replaced with curiosity and thought as her eyebrows and forehead scrunch.

I lift my eyebrows, imploring her to tell me if she can recall us doing anything we’re going to regret. Her shoulders raise and her head gently shakes and then quickly stops as she winces.

Jameson laughs, and I’m pretty certain it’s filled with more relief than humor. “What happened?” I ask.

Jameson shakes his head, his eyebrows raised. “All kinds of shit.”

“Make him fess up,” I whine, looking to Kendall.

“Jameson.” Her one word is filled with enough of a threat that he looks a little nervous.

“Wait, how would you even know what happened? We went to the bachelorette party last night.” I glance at Kendall’s neck, noticing proof of our night when I see a beaded necklace covered in every unnatural shade of penis. I tug on one of them, and Kendall looks down and laughs painfully before removing it.

“Yeah, how would you know?” she fires.

“You guys called and invited us out,” Jameson answers.

“Who’s us?” I ask.

“What happened?” Kendall growls.

“Savannah danced on a bar,” Wes adds randomly.

“I remember that!” I cry, too loud for my own ears.

I recall glimpses of her wearing a small black dress that she was thrilled to be able to fit in again with a killer pair of heels that really had nearly killed her a couple of times in our travels the previous night. My visions of her cloud, and a curly blond-haired guy with eyes so dark they were almost creepy, appears. I was dancing with him. Flashes of Max shoving him and yelling at me, accusing me of being easy, and me in turn yelling at him for dating a whore fade as I cover my face with both hands and groan.

“What?” Kendall asks.

“I’m staying with Mindi.”

“Nah, you were drunk. It’s no big deal,” Wes assures me. I look at Jameson who doesn’t look nearly as convinced.

“Oh my, God! Nate!” Kendall gasps.

“Nate what?” I ask skeptically.

“Nate and Max,” she says, placing her hand on my arm. The gesture brings a new flash of memories of her pulling me back as I tried to stand between the two of them during a heated exchange.

“I’m staying with Mindi,” I repeat.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she says, her eyes still raised to the ceiling in thought.

“No, it’s really not. And you guys are going out tonight. I’m going to go stay with Mindi and Kyle. Things need to calm down.” I shiver against the cool air blowing through a vent on the far side of the couch and move to sit up, determined to get some more appropriate clothes on that don’t reveal most of my cleavage.

Heavy footfalls enter the living room and Landon and Max appear. Landon looks from Kendall and me to Jameson as Max avoids looking at any of us.

“Alright,” Wes begins. “So last night we experienced some unforeseen hurdles. But that’s okay. It’s not a big deal. It’s a new day.”

Max walks away.

I’m packing my bags. I know Kendall doesn’t agree with my decision to move to Mindi’s, but I feel certain that once she removes her emotions from the situation, she’ll realize that it’s for the best. My stomach’s still feeling queasy from last night’s festivities, and I’ve received too many text messages from my other sisters to be certain that last night things got ugly.

I shove a pair of jeans in my suitcase with little regard to the way that they’re wadded up and zip my first bag, then turn to my second when Max appears. In his hands he slides his cell phone from one palm to the other. His face looks guarded and angry. I turn away from him and grab a heel, not certain that I have the other and not caring at this point.

“Sarah wants to see you.”

My hands stop, eyes still trained on the contents of my suitcase.

“They’re coming over tonight and want to see you.”

I slowly turn so I’m mostly facing him, looking for some sort of sign as to what my answer ought to be. He remains completely impassive.

“I think it’s best that I go to Mindi’s. We agreed that if things got awkward I’d go.”

“No, we agreed that I’d go.”

“I never agreed to that. This is your house.”

“She wants to see you. If you still want to leave tomorrow, you can.”

“I don’t want things to be weird.”

“What do you expect them to be like, Harper?”

I cringe, going back to Harper is something I suppose I should have expected, but as much as it hurt to be called Ace, because of the familiarity, being called Harper is a thousand times worse.

When I don’t respond, he nods a couple of times and turns back up to his room, leaving me in the empty living room with way too many thoughts.