AUGUST 26, 2016 - 1 YEAR AFTER

I'D ONLY BEEN back in Cape Vincent for a small number of days, and it already felt stifling.

It was ironic, really, how I was able to spend a year wandering the most congested streets of Tokyo without a single complaint, yet the moment I set foot in the town I grew up in—the place with coastal views, and ample space to breathe—the world around me seemed to shrink.

Reuniting with my parents, grandfather, and snubbed-nose pug was the one bright spot in the midst of my turmoil. After stepping off the airplane, I'd held them all tightly, the irreplaceable feeling of home in my chest. I hung onto those warm feelings on the drive to our pastel-colored house with vines steadily creeping up the front, but they didn't last much longer than that.

When I exited the car and set foot on the driveway, it felt like stepping into a time machine, and under a microscope.

For the most part, everything stayed the same here, though some things changed just enough to make me feel like a foreigner—a new family moving into the house across the street, the elderly man who used to hand me sweets in church passing away, a restaurant closing down. I supposed that was part of the appeal of living in a small town: it was comfortable. Everyone was content to follow a steadfast routine, falling into the same rhythm. It was a place made for seniors, and families who wanted to provide their children with safe neighborhoods, and quiet streets.

Cape Vincent's rhythm had always made me feel restless, because I knew how easy it was to get trapped inside of it and not be able to find your way out. Spending a lengthy amount of time abroad seemed like a good way to remedy this—to show that there was life beyond the confines of the town limits, and it was, indeed, possible to not get stuck here for all of eternity. But all good things must come to an end.

It was foolish to think I could stay away forever. I had to face reality. Attending school in my hometown and living with my parents made the most sense financially, as much as it pained me to admit.

Groaning, I rolled over, reaching out to silence the phone on my nightstand. Claire had been messaging me consistently since I landed in Maine, and my replies had rarely exceeded my self-inflicted one-word limit. It had nothing to do with my cousin, and everything to do with me. The post-adventure blues had hit me hard, my memories of Japan already seeming like such a contrast to my circumstances that I was beginning to wonder if it was just a year-long dream.

While I was gone, the idea of coming home was grossly romanticized, but now that I was actually here, it felt significantly anticlimactic. I'd expected to want to reconnect with my old friends, and see all my relatives. Instead, I'd done little more than hide out in my room, binge-watching various things and blaming it all on jet-lag.

My fingers curled around my cell phone, and I shifted onto my back once more, blowing a stray curl out my face in order to read the words on the screen. The time was creeping up on noon, sunlight streaming in through my white curtains, though I hadn't gotten out of bed. My parents were still accepting my timezone excuse, despite the fact that the exhaustion in my bones had a lot more to do with this town than with travel.

Are you coming tonight or not??

Vivienne

Pleaaaaase

I'll buy you 10 milkshakes!!

I would offer more but you know I'm broke

Come onnnn

I sighed as I read the influx of texts, feeling a tug of guilt in my chest. Claire was the one person I actually did care about seeing. I'd promised to get together for coffee as soon as I came home, but I had yet to follow through. I was severely regretting my actions now. Going out with just her would've been so much better than joining her at this party she was begging me to attend.

The guest list was mainly filled with Cape Vincent University students, as it was something of an end-of-summer, one-last-hurrah before school started up again in a week. I'd tried to use this as a way to reason with Claire, claiming that I was technically not yet a student, and therefore shouldn't attend, but it backfired severely, as she said it would be a good way for me to meet people.

Chewing on the inside of my lip, I weighed my options. The inevitable could only be delayed for so long.

Finally, I typed back a response, cringing as I pressed send.

Okay, okay. I'll come

YES, was her prompt reply, I'll pick you up at 6!

I stifled another groan, just as Murphy, the pug my parents had gifted me in exchange for not giving me any siblings, managed to scramble his way onto the bed, wriggling over to place a wet kiss on my face. I winced, reaching up to scratch his neck affectionately.

"Oh, Murphy," I said, sighing again. "What are we going to do?"

Duncan Fitzgerald's house looked the same as it did in my memory: a beacon in the twilight, cars lining the street, the front lawn littered with red solo cups, a pounding bassline bursting through the cracks in the pavement.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat at the sight of it all, trying not to let my trepidation show on my face as I walked next to Claire on the sidewalk toward the building. She was animatedly filling me in on everything I'd missed, telling me all about her first year of college in great detail, and I did my best to pay attention, smile, and respond at the appropriate times, but it was getting increasingly difficult, due to my erratic heartbeat and trembling limbs.

It felt like I was transported back to high school. Duncan had always been one for hosting parties, and I used to assume I wasn't invited, so I didn't bother attending. Of course, all of that changed.

Shaking my head, I tried to stay in the present, letting Claire grip my hand as she squealed in excitement.

"I'm so happy you're going to finally meet all of my friends," she enthused, giving my fingers a squeeze. "I've told them so much about you."

My eyebrows furrowed slightly. "What's there to tell?"

"Are you kidding? So much! You're, like, the coolest person ever. Tell them all about Tokyo, they'll love that."

"Sure," I mumbled, my anxiety intensifying as we reached the front door, the volume of the music growing significantly louder.

Following Claire into the house, I kept my eyes down, only allowing them a brief scan of the room before focusing on the hardwood floor beneath my feet. From the looks of it, the party was in full swing; people were laughing, and dancing, and shouting to be heard. I'd wondered if college parties were different than high school ones, but from first impressions, they seemed pretty well the same.

I tried to concentrate on Claire, watching her multicolored braids swing as she weaved her way through the crowd with ease. A tiny smile of warmth captured my lips as I studied her. She was the most positive, uplifting person I knew, and it was a stark contrast to my cool demeanor, even though we were related. I admired her greatly, though sometimes her presence made me feel inadequate in comparison.

"Viv Abbott, is that you?"

The familiar voice abruptly pulled me out of my reverie, and I came to a halt, my eyes falling on its owner. Naomi Mizrahi stood with her arms crossed, her slender figure cloaked in a yellow crop top and high-waisted jeans, dark hair cascading over her golden shoulders. A wide grin had captured her lips, and I found my face mirroring hers.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said, shaking her head. "Get over here."

She'd never been one for personal space, so it didn't surprise me that her first instinct was to loop her arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight embrace, despite us barely speaking for a year. Once she released me, keeping her hands on my arms, she gave me an unapologetic look over, shaking her head as though she couldn't believe I was standing in front of her.

"What the fuck, Vivienne?" she exclaimed good-naturedly. "Why didn't you tell me you were home?"

I crinkled my nose, feeling another wave of guilt. I'd convinced myself that I didn't want to see anyone, but now that my closest friend from high school was standing in front of me, I realized how much I'd missed her. "I don't know," I confessed. "I haven't talked to anyone in a really long time, it felt weird."

She made a face, punching my shoulder jokingly. "You selfish bitch," she protested. "I could've been having some quality Viv-time and I didn't even know. It's going to take a while for me to forgive you for this."

"I guess I'll just have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"You really will," she agreed. "Well, shit. How was Japan? You basically fell off the face of the earth, no one has heard from you in ages."

The events that occurred before I left home had made me want to intentionally fall off the grid, and it turned out to be very convenient that I'd already been planning to go abroad, because I really needed an escape. But I never considered what withdrawing from everyone would mean for me when I came back.

"I was really busy," I reasoned. It wasn't exactly a lie—my photography internship had definitely taken up the majority of my time—but it was a vague answer. If there hadn't been a year of distance between us, Naomi probably would've said something, but I trudged on before she could get the chance. "Japan was amazing, I wish I could've stayed longer."

"We need to get together and catch up when we're not surrounded by a bunch of shit-faced college students, because I want all the details." She paused, shaking her head in disbelief once more. "Damn, I can't believe this. You're the last person I expected to see."

I rubbed my arm nervously. "Well, you're actually going to be seeing a lot more of me. I'm attending CVU this fall."

Her face lit up, her eyes widening in shock, before she beamed, pumping her fist into the air. "Shut up! You just made my night."

Someone called her name from across the room, and she stood on her tiptoes trying to spot the voice, pursing her lips, before turning back to me. "Look, I'll find you later, okay?" she proposed, and I nodded, giving her a small smile. She lifted up a finger in warning. "There's no escaping me now."

Naomi reached for the drink of the boy standing next to her, tossing it back before handing him the empty cup, and with that, she disappeared into the crowd. I could only give her flabbergasted victim an apologetic shrug, as he mumbled something about getting a new drink, wandering toward the kitchen.

As the encounter registered in my mind, warmth creeped into my chest. Naomi and I had only become friends toward the end of our high school careers, but since then, she'd stuck to me like glue, God knows why. She'd always been the charming, outgoing one, not to mention having the genetics to do a bit of modelling in her spare time. She was everything I wasn't, and yet somehow we fit together. Kind of like Claire and me.

Speaking of Claire, I'd lost her the moment I'd taken my eyes off her, and now I was alone in a room of vaguely familiar faces. This realization made all pleasant feelings rapidly vanish, and I looked around for her as I did my best to remain calm. My attempts were futile, as I failed to both locate my cousin, and keep my hands from shaking. I decided to just make my way to the kitchen and get a drink, hoping something might be able to take the edge off and make this night more bearable.

Steeling myself for the journey that would require me to pass by a large number of people, I breathed in deeply through my nose, mumbling apologies to anyone who jostled me as I walked.

I didn't make it far before everything I'd been trying to avoid came to a head, in the form of an all-too familiar boy leaning against the wall near the doorway to the kitchen.

The sight of him caused my entire body to freeze, my mouth drying completely, heart ceasing to beat. Time seemed to slow down as I drank in the artful tousle of his brown hair, the sharpness of his jaw, the face that was too beautiful for its own good. All of my thoughts crash-landed, and I wanted to make myself move, to turn the other way and avoid detection, but I could only stare, drawn in by the force of the gravitational pull he didn't even know he possessed.

Will Tucker.

His crystalline eyes flickered to mine, and I felt my stomach bottom out.

Will's shock seemed to be less obvious than mine, though I knew him, knew his body language, and I saw the way his stance became rigid, face going slack. Neither of us moved, remaining out of earshot, and I didn't breathe, assaulted by a slew of memories I'd spent the past year trying to bury, because remembering was entirely too painful.

He only allowed the floored expression to remain on his face for a few moments, before he recovered, pressing his lips together and dropping his eyes. That action alone was enough to make me feel like I'd just been kicked in the gut, and my breath came out in a wounded exhale. Despite his refusal to acknowledge me, I couldn't seem to look away.

But seconds later, I really wished I would've.

A girl I'd never seen before approached him, devastatingly beautiful, holding a red solo cup in her delicate hand, trailing her other one along his arm. She said something, and they both laughed. When she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, I whirled around, refusing to see the rest.

And before I knew what I was doing, my feet were carrying me through the house, my hands finding the sliding door to the patio and pulling it open, desperate for fresh air, and unwilling to let anyone here see me cry.

Of course, all it took was one glance from Will Tucker to send me into a downward spiral of regret, and make me want to get on the next flight out of Maine, no matter where it took me.

But I couldn't spend anymore time running away. I always knew it would all catch up to me in the end.

┅

song: lately - the helio sequence

thanks so much for reading ミ☆