It was Saturday night and the bar was packed.

My feet were already aching in my heels, arms sore from pouring drink after drink. Even my cheeks hurt from forcing a smile onto my face every time some college guy thought it was appropriate to hit on me.

I reminded myself that I needed this job to pay for my first year of college and my apartment's rent as I slid a bottle of beer across the counter, watching it land perfectly in the man's open hand.

I smiled, satisfied as I bobbed my head to the song the band was playing. So maybe working as a bartender wasn't so bad. The tips were good. The uniforms were god awful—half my chest was popping out of this thing—but I could handle some wandering eyes if it meant having enough money to stay alive.

The song the band was playing changed as a girl slid into the empty seat. "Vodka soda," she said, eyes darting around the dim room.

She was waiting for someone. I'd been working behind this counter for almost two months now, and I was slowly learning how to read people.

I handed her the drink and she thanked me, drinking half of it in one gulp. There was something familiar about her red curls that hung down her waist, the gap between her two front teeth and her green, heavily lashed eyes.

"Do I know you?" I asked, crossing my arms over the counter.

The girl's gazed flicked back to mine and she raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"You look familiar," I said again. She couldn't have been more than a year or two older than me.

"I've never been here before." She turned her attention back to the crowd, ending the conversation. I rolled my eyes, grabbed a rag and began to wipe down the counter.

I watched from the corner of my eye as the girl waved someone down, practically hopping out of the stool. My gaze followed hers, but the bar was too crowded for me to make out the face of the person now moving towards her.

It was only when I heard him call her name that I froze. The bottle of beer I was holding fell, splattering onto the floor and drenching my shoes.

I would know that voice anywhere.

His voice.

"Santana," he greeted, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "Hey, baby. Traffic was shit." He planted a quick kiss on her cheek as he sat down.

I stared at Truman, my mouth hanging open.

In the second it took for his eyes to find mine, I had replayed every moment we spent together in my head. The summers watching him play video games. Our first kiss in that closet. The halo on my head and the glint in his eyes.

"Eden," he breathed.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't think.

He looked so much like Katie. Too much. I could see her laugh in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, until it felt like she wasn't laying in a hospital bed down the street, but was standing right here before me.

Satana's mouth popped open, cherry-red lips forming a perfect O as she glanced between the two of us.

"Eden?" she said, glancing at my name tag. "The same Eden that was your—" her voice wavered and I saw her clutch Truman's hand. "Is you sister's best friend," she finished.

Say something. But I didn't know what to say. It's been four months since I've last seen him.

Four months since he went back to college and left his family—the heartbreak—behind.

I thought we had gotten away from each other.

Until tonight.

"I see you're still wearing red."

"What?" My mind seemed to snap back to reality and I stared at Truman, blinking.

"Your uniform," he said, mouth forming into that familiar, lopsided grin. "It's red."

"What are—" Oh. The party. The devil outfit. I nodded, surprised that he could reference that night so causally. "What are you drinking?"

Truman ordered and I occupied myself with pouring his drink. I could see Santana snake her arm around his, pulling him closer, staking some sort of claim. As if that mattered anymore.

I pretended not to notice as I handed him the glass, forcing a smile to my face.

"So," Truman began, tongue sliding over his lips. "How've you been?"

I stared between the two of them. Truman's attempt at polite conversation was offset by her constant eye rolling. I didn't want to see him, or even look at him. I spent every day at Katie's bed side while he ran away, hiding God knows where.

I never understood how he could just leave her. Leave me. Leave us. I still don't.

I mumbled something inaudible and ran from the bar until I was standing in the narrow hallway that lead to the employee bathroom. The air smelt like alcohol and weed but I breathed it in anyway, gulping down breath after breath until my heart rate returned to normal.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

"Eden?"

I groaned as Truman rounded the corner. He sighed when he saw me, walking to my side and leaning against the wall. Even now, his smile was still easy, like it wasn't weighed down by all the guilt I was drowning in.

"You're not supposed to be here," I whined, voicing my thoughts aloud.

Truman chuckled and suddenly I was fifteen again, my heart summersaulting in my chest.

"Was I supposed to know you work here now?" he asked.

"You don't even live in this city anymore, Tru. Why are you here? What happened to college?"

"I dropped out," he said, shrugging. His eyes shifted through the darkness, looking anywhere but at me. "Came home a few weeks ago. Santana and I got back together," he added.

"You know Katie used to call her Satan." He stilled at the mention of his sister. I mentally slapped myself for bringing her up. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Forget that."

"What if I can't?" His eyes flickered back to mine, eerie in the shadows. "What if I can't forget, Eden?"

I knew we were no longer talking about a nickname.

It was a kiss. That stupid fucking kiss that changed everything.

I scoffed, pushing off the wall and stepping away from him. "You went back to college and disappeared, Truman. I never heard from you again after the accident."

"I had to leave." His voice was low, words cutting through the darkness growing between us.

I shook my head. This was too much. I didn't have to do this. None of this even mattered. Katie was alive, but she was still gone. I broke my promise to her. And Truman being back wasn't going to fix anything but reopen old wounds.

"I promised Katie when I was fifteen that I'd stay away from you." I ignored the surprise on his face and kept speaking. "I broke it then, but that doesn't mean I can't keep it now."

His arm latched onto mine as I began to walk away.

"Eden," he begged.

I could hear it then in his voice: the sadness, the heartbreak. The guilt I was no stranger to.

Still, I refused to turn around.

"Go home, Truman." I yanked my arm free and lost myself in the crowd.

I could hear him calling my name as I walked away. Eden, Eden, Eden. I never turned back. I was no longer Eden tonight, the girl that kissed her best friend's brother the night she nearly died.

I was just a girl trying to forget.

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hello, beautiful people! are you enjoying this story so far? let me know what you think of Truman! and of Eden!

this story will be updated Fridays, btw.

thank you for reading! :)