Sinking Moons

"I don't wanna go," Maggie said as she studied herself in the mirror. She had pool hair, she was sunburnt from head to toe, and the only pair of shorts she brought were dirty and frayed.

"You say that every single time," Grace replied as she pulled her new sundress over her head, "and I already told you you could borrow my clothes." Maggie sighed and fell back on her best friend's bed. She wasn't looking forward to the party, but it was better than being at home. "Besides, Logan will probably be there. You can finally see him."

"Yeah," Maggie said as she rolled over on her stomach and picked at her fingernail polish. She hadn't told Grace about Logan coming to her house. She spent most of her time trying to block the encounter out of her head, hoping it wouldn't be awkward the next time they saw each other.

Maggie and Grace showed up to the party early, which usually meant everyone sat around a table and played drinking games. After a few rounds of cards and a few too many shots, Grace nudged her friend. "There he is," she whispered, "fuckin sexy, am I right or am I right?" Maggie looked to the door, where Logan had just walked in with Evan Smith and Riley Hopkins. When his eyes scanned the room and met hers, she smiled. He kept looking at her for a few seconds before turning and following the guys in the other direction. No acknowledgment whatsoever. Maggie felt her stomach tighten, and she took another shot of vodka before letting out a fake laugh at some bullshit some fake bitch said. If he was going to ignore her, she was going to show him that she didn't care.

Maggie pretended to have fun for the first time in years, but it seemed to have no effect at all. Every time she saw Logan, he was flirting with a different girl. She knew he was the fresh new meat in town, and all of the girls were dressed to impress. Suddenly she wished she had borrowed some of Grace's clothes.

"Hey," came a voice in her ear. She turned her head to see the wide grin she'd been dreading ever since it coaxed her into bed a month ago.

"Fuck off Jake."

"What if I fuck off and come back with a beer for the lady?"

"That would be great," she smiled, "I could break it over your head."

"God, man. I don't fucking get you," he shook his head before walking away. She knew he wasn't going to get her a beer, and for a fraction of a second she wished she had let him. Grace was on the lap of an out-of-towner and she was all alone. Then she reminded herself that's how she liked to be. Completely and comfortably alone.

She grabbed two beers and made her way to the back porch, where she knew no one would be. It had started pouring nearly an hour before, and everyone had rushed inside immediately. She sat down on the top step, where she was just enough under the awning that only her legs were getting wet. She didn't know why she was so pissed. She liked sitting by herself in the corner. This is how it always was, how it was supposed to be. The door opened behind her, and when she didn't hear it close she looked back to see Logan. He flinched, and she could tell he had been debating whether or not to go back inside.

"I have an extra beer," she finally stated as they stared at each other. He softly nodded his head before closing the door and sitting beside her on the step. Her legs were long, but his stretched out to the bottom step. Hers were pale and sunburnt, while his were tan and strong. They had never been all that much alike, even as little kids. "Sorry about the other day," she apologized as she handed him her other Bud Light.

"I still don't understand," he admitted before taking a long gulp. She watched his adam's apple bob up and down, and she took her own gulp of air.

"Phoebe's dead," she said when she released the air. Logan turned to her with wild, confused eyes. "So is mom." He continued to stare at her, and she felt like he was searching for something. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"I can't believe no one told me. I'm sorry I wasn't there," he finally whispered.

"Yeah. Me too." She stared at the bottle she held in her hands, unable to keep eye contact with the boy sitting next to her. He was studying her, and she didn't like it. Vulnerability was something she tried hard to avoid.

"So tell me what you like now. You're so different," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

"I like guys with tattoos," she answered as she turned her head to look back at him.

"Yeah? I like blondes," he challenged back.

"I like blue eyes."

"I like cheerleaders."

"Musicians."

"Short hair."

"Guys with accents."

"Big boobs."

"Facial hair."

"Well that I can do," he replied with a hint of a smile. His response startled her, and she blinked rapidly as he leaned in closer to her. It was all so fast, she wasn't even sure if it was happening. "You smell like suntan lotion," he murmured before pressing his lips into hers. She reacted fast, pushing him away from her and standing up.

"No," she said shaking her head. "No. You can't just show up here and do shit like that. We're not nine years old. We don't even know each other anymore."

"No, Maggie. I don't know you anymore. You're the one who's changed, not me," he replied in defense as he pushed himself off the step. "I missed you. As in I thought about you almost every single day. I was looking forward to seeing you again so much, I guess I didn't take time to consider that you might not be the same girl anymore."

"How dare you," she spat at him, "after everything I've been through. You weren't here to help me. You were gone, and you never called any of us. It's been years. Years. You expect me to still listen to Hilary Duff and draw cupcakes on my Lisa Franke folders? Of course I've changed. Don't pretend like you have the right to criticize me." She pushed the door open and ran through, slamming it shut behind her.

"I need to leave," she yelled over the music as she found Grace.

"Why?" the blonde yelled back as she danced with the same guy from earlier.

"I caught up with Logan like you said. And I fucking hate him."