Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tara keeps picking at her skirt and fixing her hair in a desperate attempt to earn some sort of glimpse of enthusiasm out of her reflection.

Next to her, on the bed and completely at ease, sits Amber Freeman. A rerun of Stab 3 plays on the background as the girl grins each time someone gets their guts rearranged by a kitchen knife. During the dialogues, she glances at her best friend, who always returns her gaze like she’s expecting some kind of feedback that never comes.

“I still don’t get how these can even be considered comfort movies.”

Amber scoffs, sounding genuinely offended. “You have the audacity to judge my taste as you’re about to go on a date with Wes Hicks?”

A pillow collides with her head full force. 

“Would you stop grinning at that shitty movie and tell me how I look?”

Amber laughs and adjusts her head better on the pillow Tara had launched at her seconds before, observing her best friend in silence. 

Tara was wearing a black tube top and a yellow checked skirt. Her long dark hair framed her small face perfectly, the smokey make up enhancing her big hazel eyes and the black combat boots in an adorable obvious attempt to look taller.

She was gorgeous - and Amber was very aware of that.

“Wasted on him.” She mutters like it’s the only valid answer, shifting her attention back to the movie.

Tara snorts, tossing an inhaler in her bag and adjusting the jacket on her shoulders. “At least he genuinely likes me.”

“Everyone likes you.” Amber says in return, her lips twisting in a bitter smile.

Tara decides it’s time for chaos. “How come you never asked me out then?”

Amber’s smug facade crumbles immediately. “What?” 

Her eyes widen in a cartoonish way as soon as they see Tara smirk and plant her palms on the mattress, crawling over to stop just a few inches from her face. “I'm not pretty enough to be one of your one night stands or what?”

Amber feels like she’s being pranked. To be fair, it wasn't that weird. They teased each other like that rather often and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to play along with the usual ease. Her best friend was getting a little too brave lately, which felt even more confusing considering now that she was currently getting ready to go on a date with that excuse of a almost-boyfriend she had.

Sometimes it feels like they don’t even know how they got there in the first place. 

Tara can’t help but smile each time she recalls how badly they despised each other at first; ever since Junior year, when Amber moved from one of the most prominent boarding schools in the states to fucking Woodsboro High. 

They’ve always been extremely different – sun and moon opposites. Tara was friendly, bright and genuinely good. She was the type of person to turn your day over for the best with just a smile and her bubbly presence, but she was also obstinate and impulsive.

On the other hand, Amber was harder to decipher; a devil-may-care on her good days and volatile and detestable on bad ones. That damn half smirk never leaving her lips and the bizarre habit to host parties on school nights while simultaneously keeping a perfect gpa score.

Apparently, her parents were never really around. And when they were, they seemed too busy to be bothered by their teenager daughter’s shenanigans.

They didn’t really share the same classes at first, yet they happened to gravitate towards each other constantly. Amber clearly liked to provoke Tara, upsetting her and lowkey ruining her day. So one day, Tara decided to finally follow her older sister’s advice as she gradually learned to get less affected by the girl’s remarks, letting things slide in the most mature way possible.

It worked well until a Thursday afternoon, when Amber made a tart comment about Sam Carpenter loud enough for Tara to hear and punch her square in the face in the school parking lot, right in front of their respective friend groups and, unfortunately, Ms. Weathers. 

That costed them detention, Tara forcefully pushing an ice pack onto Amber’s glaring face – which gained her a kick in the shin – and eventually truce.

They talked for hours about their favorite movies and places they would’ve liked to visit after leaving Woodsboro. For the very first time, Tara felt herself looking at Amber in a total different way. She had managed to get through her maddening, detached facade and realized how actually smart, reflective and surprisingly witty she was.

When two blinding headlights ripped through the gloom of that rainy autumn afternoon, Amber rolled her eyes at the sight of Sam Carpenter’s hand waving from behind the windshield.

Tara had bounced up and mentally debated on the idea of hugging her for a second, but she quickly scattered that option after seeing Amber set her face back on aloof mode. She decided on a simple bop on the ice pack she was holding against her nose, smiling at the girl's scowl.

“I still can’t stand you.”

Tara’s smile only grew bigger. “Likewise.”

Then again, the day after, Tara ignored her friends’ whines and walked over to Amber’s table. She stopped right in front of it and cleared her throat.

Amber was eating alone, a Stephen King book resting besides her lunch tray. Tara was always glad to find her on her own and not surrounded by her douchebags friends, especially since she figured out Amber was more of a loner than she wanted people to know. 

“You wanna punch me again?”

She scanned Amber’s unperturbed face, observing the white nasal patch on the bridge of her nose. She definitely wasn’t staring because of how adorable she looked; just proudly admiring her work, she would rather say.

“I love It.” She blurted out, motioning to Amber’s reading.

The raven haired girl didn’t even look up. “Cool. Go fall in a sewer.”

With a sigh, Tara hopped on the table, just a few inches away from the book. Amber groaned. “Wanna join me and my friends for lunch?” She suggested, smiling while she dangled her crossed ankles back and forth. "We're fun."

The action distracted Amber for a second. “No.”

“We’re very fun.”

“I doubt it.” She eyed her with a raised eyebrow, before returning her attention to the reading.

Tara briefly looked up at her friends for support, not too surprised to see Liv give her a thumbs up and Mindy mouthing a stunned ‘What the fuck are you even doing’.

After several seconds of obstinate silence, Tara flicked Amber’s forehead and jumped off the table. “Alright, keep being miserable over here.”

She knew Amber was too proud to even considering accepting, so she decided to just stand there and tire the life out of her until she decided to turn her attention at her.

Tara smiled when she noticed her gaze gave in.

“Fine! God, you’re a pain, Carpenter.” She exclaimed exhausted, slamming her book closed as she started to gather her stuff. “Didn’t want your puppy dog eyes to pierce my skull anyways.”

Tara smiled widely, scrunching her nose while fighting the urge to jump from one foot to the other. “I’ll carry your books.”

Amber spent the rest of her lunch break pleasantly laughing along with Tara and her friends, bullying their letterboxd four and almost making Mindy stab her with a plastic fork.

They quickly became a pretty solid group of close losers after that.  Except for Wes. He never really liked Amber and the feeling was so evidently mutual that they just silently agreed to tolerate each other’s presence for Tara’s the group’s sake.

Tara didn't know what it was about Amber, but it was impossible for her to hate the girl, no matter the amount of fights and the constant bicker denoting their bond. She wasn’t the type to hold grudges, they made her feel terrible and guilty, even when it wasn’t her fault.

At the end of the day, she would’ve protected Amber from the smallest hint of malice in anyone’s opinion.

Now Amber can barely breathe. The sounds coming from the television are reduced to nothing but a blur. She can’t see anything other than the girl facing her. Tara is so close and so pretty and she’s looking at her like she might risk it all – and it’s new and Amber is fucked.

When her gaze shifts down to Tara’s lips, a loud ting echoes in the room and a phone lits up. As Tara gets up to check it, it’s like everything starts moving again.

Amber blinks a few times and still feels like she’s suffocating, even when she looks back at the television and releases one of the deepest breaths she held in a while. What the fuck was that.

It’s been a couple of months since they’ve been stuck in this never ending loop of will they, won’t they. Just to be clear, nothing ever happened. No actual talk ever took place. They just get bitter whenever someone steals them away from each other and excuse it by saying that’s how their friendship always worked. So, of course, Wes buzzing around Tara like she was made of honey never got an actual reaction out of Amber.

“He’s here.” Tara shoves the phone in her bag with a sigh, grabbing her keys from the nightstand. Amber doesn’t turn to check, but she can make out a subtle note of disappointment in her voice.

“I’ll see you on Monday, nerd.”

She stops and turns when she hears no reply, looking at Amber with the softest expression. 

Sometimes it feels like she’s waiting for Amber to do something, anything, but nothing major ever happens, so she watches her best friend swallow at least 20 different replies, gaze fixed on the screen. 

“Have fun.” She says eventually, completely oblivious to the way Tara’s face falls.

A knife slits a dude’s throat as the bedroom door closes; Amber thinks it would be fun if the same thing happened to Wes Hicks.

*

“A carnival date? That’s so cute!” Liv beams, smiling at Wes reaching for Tara’s hand to lace their fingers together. 

They weren’t officially dating, yet. But they had gone on way too many ‘friendly’ dates for Wes to not feel like he was finally hitting the jackpot after years and years of hopeless friendzone. 

They had been friends since middle school and no matter how many times over the years Tara had constantly reminded him of how she’ll never see him as anything more than a friend, Wes still decided to make it his life mission. 

“That’s it, Wes!” Tara was storming towards her bike at the end of their bowling night. She didn't need to turn to know Wes was running after her. “I told you countless times it’s pointless to go out just the two of us while you obviously still have feelings for me. I don’t want you to get all pressed when someone looks my way.”

“I don’t!” Wes said as soon as he managed to stop her with a hand on her shoulder, surprised by the conviction in his own voice. “I’m over you, seriously. I’m completely fine with the friendly dates. I just… we’ve been friends since forever. It’s okay for the line to get a little blurred sometimes.”

Tara’s eyes widened in horror. “No, dude. That’s not okay at all. Are you even hearing yourself?”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, really. I’m just protective.” He replied, planting his hands on his waist in a successful attempt to make the girl in front of him laugh. “I promise we’ll stop with the dates if it gets weird again.”

Truth is, Tara was too good. It was as simple as that. She would’ve burden herself with the weight of the world to avoid it falling on her loved ones. So sometimes, she was simply too selfless to act rational.

Her shoulders ultimately slump in defeat. “Fine.” She sighed, wanting nothing more than for that conversation to be over. “But one last tantrum and we’re never talking again.” 

Wes smiled. “Deal.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me.” Wes hands shoot up when he sees Tara turn on her heels. “In a total platonic way!”

He managed to keep his jealousy in check until now, motivated by the way Tara seemed to adjust into the idea of eventually becoming something more.

“You never took me to a carnival date… Do better.” Liv elbows her boyfriend, who was biting into his chicken wrap with the same ardor of someone about to die from starvation.

“Aren’t you scared of heights?” Chad muffles with a full mouth. 

Mindy gags and pushes a napkin up his mouth.

“Irrelevant.” Liv states, sipping on her diet coke with pursed lips. “We can always shoot at cans, win stuffed pandas and stuff like that.”

“Pandas are useless animals.” 

Liv’s eyes turn into offended slits as they stare at Mindy’s amused face. “You’re a useless animal.”

“Bite me, bitch.” Mindy snarls, stealing a french fry from her plate. She eyes the newest couple at the table, suddenly in the mood to switch victims. “You two are disgusting, by the way.” 

She gets the subtle feeling Amber might agree, considering she had tuned out of the conversation earlier than usual to silently and steadily stabbing her salad as if those green leaves had burnt her ancestors at the stake in a past life. She observes her grip on the fork a little tighter when Wes murmurs a ‘thanks, Mindy’ under his breath.

Mindy clears her throat; half to avoid laughing at Amber, the other to actually announce something. “So, losers!” She begins, making five heads turn. “Party at Amber’s tomorrow night. A date is strictly required. I already texted the cinema club contacts to bring one or stay home. I don’t want no dumb single moron around Frances in my foster home.”

Liv’s brow furrows. “Amber is literally single.” 

Amber doesn’t even reply, she just keeps torturing her salad under Mindy’s amused gaze.

“Amber doesn’t count, I’m sure she’ll manage to find someone before tonight. Plus, she literally hooks up at every party she hosts, I kept track.” 

Tara shifts in her seat and Amber finally looks up from her salad to briefly observe her best friend, before turning to look at Mindy. “My house is your house now?”

Her friend laughs as she steals a couple of french fries from Liv’s plate and clicks her tongue. “That and you’re like the Great Gatsby of Woodsboro, so…”  She trails off as Liv smiles, not because of the fries robbery but because she understood the reference for once. 

“Who says I’m not busy?” 

“Busy with who? Tara’s chained now.” She smirks, blowing Tara a kiss after the girl flips her off.

“Maybe I aimed for a different type of company.” Amber deadpans with her most serious tone, before breaking into a sigh as she takes in the surprised looks of her friends. “Just kidding. Party’s at 9.” 

“Yesss…” Mindy hisses and extends a fist towards her brother for him to bump it with his own.

At the same time, Tara releases the breath she was unknowingly holding since the beginning of lunch break.

Amber has always been a reserved person, especially when it came to her love life. She wasn’t the type to overshare about her dates with friends, let alone gossip and worrying about what to wear and who to date. In her case, it was all about casual and frequent sexcapades. She always spared Tara the details, but it was pretty obvious how Amber used sex to cope. 

At one point, Tara thought she had a strong preference for guys, but she realized later on that they were simply easier to drop. Amber had the habit of getting bored incredibly easily with the whole dating protocol, which ended up in Tara witnessing her friend dump girls over one sentence texts, leading to them crying or, in the worst of cases, throwing hysterical tantrums. The more Tara thinks about it, the more she finds it ridiculous how none of those outburst ever culminated with Amber getting slapped in the face at least once. 

Like last week during English class, when Amber had the brilliant idea of making Riley Marra drop her phone mid lesson to run out the classroom in tears.

Tara vividly remembers how Amber remained unfazed, tossed her phone back in her pocket with a relieved sigh and resumed taking her notes.

“You can’t keep doing that.” Amber heard Tara mutter through her teeth.

She subtly looked over at Ms. Riley, who was trying to regain the class’ attention with the snapping of her fingers. “Huh?”

Tara’s eyes widened in a mix of anger and disbelief. “You know what I mean! She’s a person, with real feelings… and you don’t even care.”

“We literally fucked once.”

She watched Tara tighten her fists. “Oh my god..” the girl exhaled, pure hatred in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, you sociopath! Maybe she liked you. Couldn’t you have at least waited until tonight?”

“She kept bugging me.”

“You’re so-” As Tara opened her mouth to snap back, Ms. Riley’s cleared her throat.

Tara met the teacher’s daring gaze and sighed. “Sorry, Ms. Riley.” 

Ms. Riley was her favorite teacher and the best in the institute by a long shot. Her blonde hair and warm eyes made every student feel at ease and her classes ended up being the most interactive ones, especially since she and Ms. Prescott were the only ones to base them on constant exchange of views and not just pop quizzes like the rest of the professors.

“Is there something you would like to share with the class before we resume?”

Tara glanced over at Amber, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” She smiled after a second, letting her back fall against the chair. “Amber’s an asshole.”

Ms. Riley just groaned in exhaustion, mostly at the fact she had once again lost the rest of the class’ attention – and signed one of her favorite students up for detention. 

Needless to say, Amber stopped by at 4 pm to furtherly bother Tara, pointing at all the missing spots the girl was leaving while repainting the gym’s wall.

To be honest, Tara doesn’t remember a single time she saw Amber being actually in love with someone. She witnessed tons of different partners lure around her best friend for years, but she never saw that kind of sparkle in her eyes, let alone the same girl or guy near her for more than a week.

Tara knows it wasn’t any of her business, as Amber gently reminds her whenever she starts lecturing her on how people have feelings and can get hurt even when they don’t necessarily show it, but she always feels the need to safeguard Amber’s next possible victim. For their own good, obviously, since there was no other motive hidden behind the interest she sensed for her friend’s love life. At all.

“Um, by the way, Amber...” Wes’ voice makes Amber shift her gaze towards him for the first time that day. “Brooke Maddox asked me for your number during chemistry. I, uhh.. gave it to her.”

Tara drops his hand. “You what?”

“Yeah, I mean… I kind of did Amber a favor. Brooke’s like… very pretty.” He says, looking between the two with confusion.

“It’s Amber’s number, Wes. Hers to give.”

There’s an awkward tension in the air, definitely caused by Tara’s reaction. Liv and Mindy are looking at the three of them like they’re front row at a tennis match – and while Chad does realize something clearly shifted, he always gets the feeling he missed 2 seasons and a special whenever it comes to Amber and Tara, so he doesn’t even bother to ask. 

They’re all still waiting for Amber to say something and when she does, Tara wants to punch her. 

“It’s fine. You did good.” She shrugs nonchalantly, always looking like nothing can really bother her.

After a few seconds of moderately awkward silence, Amber hears Wes gulp and look over the twins’ shoulders with wide eyes. “Great, ‘cause she’s coming here…” 

The group’s eyes land on a gorgeous, glowing girl in a cheerleader uniform approaching their table. One thing was clear; people definitely stared when Brooke Maddox passed by. She was all perfect straight blonde hair, designer clothes and expensive shoes. On top of that, she was even too nice to be considered the stereotypical mean head cheerleader. 

“Hey guys!” She greets them, looking like a fairy popped out of a Disney live action. “Hi, Amber... I got your number from Wes earlier.” Said Wes waves awkwardly while Tara was rubbing her eyelids in sadistic slow motion, feeling this not-so-new-found desire to strangle him. “I would have texted you later, but I noticed you were still here, so… Is it okay if I don’t bring a date tomorrow?”

Everyone eyes Amber with expectant looks.

“Not a problem. That’s even better, actually. I’ll see you there?” She asks, flashing the blonde a charming smile.

Mindy is too invested in the scene to realize she’s sucking the life out of her drink with her reusable pride straw, especially when she’s so busy thinking that if looks could talk, Tara would have already sentenced Amber to the electric chair.  

On the other hand, Brooke is eyeing the raven haired girl with the most confident smirk. “Yes, you definitely will.” She tells her, before walking off as sassily as she arrived.

Chad wolf whistles, one arm resting on Liv’s shoulders. “Nice catch, Amb.” 

His girlfriend smacks his nape, easing the tension and making almost everyone laugh. 

Mindy smirks as Tara jumps off the table with a hop to gather up her books. Her lunch left untouched. “I got bio in 5. See you later, guys.” She tells her friend group with a lopsided smile.

Amber watches her up and down as she gets farther and - needless to say, Wes instantly scrambles to get up and run after her. “Wait! I’ll walk you!”

“Bye lovebirds!” Mindy waves, laughing as they all watch Wes almost tripping on Tara and explaining as fast as he can. 

Amber sighs when she notices Riley Marra shooting daggers at her from the table opposite theirs.

Mindy pats her on the shoulder, still laughing. “This is gonna be your best party yet.”

*

The next day, Tara wakes up so early she has to double check the time on her iPhone’s display. 7 am. Definitely too soon to properly function on a weekend, but that was probably because she had fallen asleep at something embarrassing like 9 pm while watching Criminal Minds with Sam the night before.

She struggles a bit to lower down the brightness of the screen as she scrolls through notifications, noticing at least 20 missed texts from the group chat as well as a few ones from private chats with Amber, Wes and Liv.

She hadn’t heard from Amber since yesterday’s lunch break, which was a surprising long time for them considering they basically texted or facetimed almost every night.

After a couple of seconds of hesitation, she unlocks her phone and starts reading.

wes (8:54 pm)

Do we really have to go to Amber’s party tomorrow?            

wes (8:56 pm)

There’s this new place me and my mom went to the other day and their steaks are the best! 
She wants you to come along :)           

Tara groans. It was already challenging enough to convince Wes Hicks they weren’t dating, she definitely wasn’t ready for his cop mom to interrogate her on the state of their relationship too.

But in all honesty, she didn’t really wanna witness her best friend shove her tongue down Brooke Maddox’s throat either. Her jaw automatically clenches at the thought.

She bounces her phone in her hand for a moment, debating on whether or not she wanted to look at Amber’s chat.

She opens Liv’s first.

liv (9:32 pm)

amber is killing us. pls tell her ur coming tomorrow so she can stfu     

liv (9:57 pm)

bitch, i swear. talk to her.     

liv (10:02 pm)

no actually mindys right for once!? this weird tension u two got going on is NOT healthy at all
so pls whether it’s murdering eo or finally getting laid i promise u we do not care just DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT      

liv (10:03 pm)

THAT WAS FOR AMBER

liv (10:03 pm)

but um. for u too <3        

Tara’s heart starts beating a bit faster as she reads Liv’s texts one by one and multiple times. 

So they noticed? She doesn’t even know what but she knows they had noticed it and that was bad. 

She takes in a deep breath and slowly releases it, fingers moving to reveal Amber’s texts.

amber (9:16 pm)

do i have to pick you up tomorrow?                

amber (9:18 pm)

if you’re ditching us for bleach head don’t even bother answering.            

amber (9:47 pm)

i was kidding. answer me. :(                        

She can’t stop the smile twisting her lips as her finger goes through Amber’s chat, the background being a picture of them from Chad’s birthday party a year ago. She had her head on Amber’s shoulder while the girl was laughing and holding onto her head in such a precarious way it looked like the pic could move any second and reveal the fall that happened seconds later. In their defense, they were stoned as hell that night. 

The happy memory is rapidly tainted by Liv’s last text drilling into her brain like a jackhammer. 

She needs to get out of bed. The more she stayed there, the more she couldn’t stop thinking and thinking was making it all worse.

After taking a quick shower she puts on the first oversized shirt she can find, sneering when she remembers stealing it from her sister’s closet not too long ago – and rides her bike until she reaches Ghostface, the diner her sister has been working in since she came back to town.

It was a pretty storic café in Woodsboro, definitely saved in appearance by its renovation. 

As much as Tara loved art, the Edvard Munch copies always felt a bit haunting to look at. 

She still remembers her younger self sitting in one of the stools as she waited for her mom to finally stop drinking and flirting with men at the counter. She used to occupy that time by drawing, trying to replicate the paintings on the wall. Staring at those swirling, dark toned lines with tired eyes caused her nightmares for weeks during childhood. 

Perhaps it was the diner light playing tricks on her, the fact she stayed there past midnight or simply the fervid imagination of a child, but those creepy forms tormented her for years.

When the owner died and his artsy grandson inherited the place, he replaced them all with brighter and more minimalist paintings, movie posters and pop culture references. it finally felt like a breath of fresh air.

Standing in front of the diner's glass door, Tara catches a glimpse of Dewey Riley through her sunglasses. 

The sheriff was sitting at the counter, bickering with the blonde waitress as per usual.

“Did you spit in it?” He grumbles.

The waitress smiles mockingly as she places a large black coffee in front of her regular customer. “Not today.”

When Tara makes the bell above the door tinkle twice, the waitress turns and her smile only grows bigger.

“Well, well, well…” She sings from behind the counter. “If that isn’t my favorite Carpenter!”

Tara lets herself fall a few stools away from the sheriff, who greets her with a nod. 

“Hi, Kirby.” She smiles, stretching a bit to steal a licorice candy stick from the jar next to the cash register. “Sup, officer?”

“Pray for my coffee.” He replies quietly, still eyeing the waitress with suspicion.

Tara liked the town’s sheriff. He was fun and never too strict, unless Kirby Reed was involved – which was understandable, considering she was a driving menace. She never respected traffic laws and counted more car crashes than any other Woodsboro’s resident. Dewey had to practically beg Sam to drive her around each time he was forced to withdraw her license. (Like this week, for example.)

He also had the biggest crush on the school principal, Ms. Weathers, so it was always entertaining to witness their dynamics whenever he stopped by. 

Kirby rolls her eyes with a sigh. “You’re so dramatic, Dwight.” She mumbles defensively, reaching for the ledger on one of the shelves behind her. “I’m not a rancorous person.”

Tara taps her fingers on the counter. “Is my sister here?” She asks, subtly diverting the topic away.

Kirby nods, her fingers expertly flipping through receipts as she organizes them in different folders. “Yeah, she’s changing.” The girl throws her head back to call Sam’s attention, making both Tara and Dewey jump a little in their seat.

“Adios, nerds.” She sighs solemnly, the ledger pressed against her chest as she moves towards the back room Sam finally emerges from.

“Hey!” Sam exhales, hands up to finish combing her hair in a high messy bun. “Hi Dewey.”

“Sam.”

Tara smiles, raising her chin at her. “Hey, loser.”

“Is that my shirt?”

The youngest grins. “No.”

Dewey’s prehistoric phone suddenly rings, changing his mood upside down in a matter of seconds. 

“I- uh. Gotta go.” The sheriff’s eyes widen as he scatters up at the sight of the name on the display. “Stay out of trouble, you three.” He grumbles, fixing his hair only to shrink at the gesture right after.

Sam and Tara share a knowing look, assuming none other than Gale Weathers would call with such persistence at 8 in the morning and earn that kind of reaction out of him.

He struggles to gather his few things and almost forgets his coffee on the counter, which Tara promptly hands him with a polite smile.

“Thanks, kid.” The sheriff smiles back awkwardly. “Sam-” He begins, eyes wide.

Sam waves him off with a shrug. “I’m her uber, yes. Don’t worry.”

He gives her a rapid thumbs up and blasts out the diner.

Kirby’s voice sounds disappointed from the other side of the wall. “Did I miss it again?”

“Yeah.” Both sisters chuckle.

“Damn.”

Tara silently studies Sam’s movements as she moves to the side to wrap her sister's usual breakfast choices in a brown bag: a blueberry muffin and the terrible iced caramel latte she couldn’t survive a day without. Sam looks like she’s still losing sleep over stuff she doesn’t tell her about, even though that never stops her sisterly sixth sense from tensing up.

“So, what’s wrong?” Sam therefore asks, making Tara’s gaze drop down to her hands.

“Nothing is wrong.” 

Sam raises an eyebrow, placing the paper bag between Tara’s hands as she steadily plants hers on the counter. “It’s barely 8 am. You usually sleep until noon on Saturdays.”

Tara shrugs, trying to come out with an excuse. “I missed you?”

Sam lets out a humorous laugh, making her sister roll her eyes. 

“Who’s actually in your thoughts?” She asks after a second, but she feels like she already knows the answer.

Tara snorts, shaking her head like it’s not a big deal. “There’s just this party at Amber’s tonight...”

Of course there is.

“I don’t know if I want to go.”

Oh. 

Sam tilts her head, her eyes narrowing into slits. “What did she do?”

“What? Nothing. She did nothing wrong.” Yet.

The older girl leans in on the counter, dramatically looking into her sister’s eyes. “All I need is a motive and I’m dragging her by the hair.” 

“Are you really beefing with a high-schooler!?” They hear Kirby’s astonished laugh fill the back room as Sam yells at the girl to mind her business.

Tara wonders if that’s what they do all day, just snap at each other to relieve the stress. It sounds oddly therapeutic and she can’t help but ask herself if that was all her and Amber need right now –  just some good, old-fashioned communication.

“Maybe I’m just being dense.” She says, mostly to herself than to anyone else. “Yeah, fuck it. I’m going.”

Tara gets up on her tip toes and leans over the counter for a quick goodbye hug. “Thank you, Sam.” She whispers to her sister, leaving a five dollar bill in the tip jar.

She walks towards the door, extracting her coffee from the bag and lowering the sunglasses back on her nose. “Bye, Kirby!” 

“Have fun, baby!”

Sam watches her little sister exit the diner and hop on her bike, sighing as she rides off until disappearing. 

“Wait… who did she like again, Wes or Amber? I forgot.”

Sam sighs loudly and goes back to polish the counter. “Let’s manifest Wes.” 

He was such a good guy, the kind of good her sister deserved and definitely the best choice for Sam’s peace of mind.  

“So Amber.” Kirby states, resurfacing from the back room with at least a dozen of ketchup squeeze bottles in her arms. 

When she looks over to a silent Sam, she knows her co-worker is resisting the urge to squeeze one of those bottles that casually happened to point at her face. 

The blonde is wise enough to contain a laugh and move towards the tables, chuckling to herself. “Definitely Amber...”

*

People started to appear a few minutes before the established hour and Amber gestured for Chad to flick off the led lights while she greeted the guests and ordered the football team to not break anything, unlike last time.

Now the party was going strong for about half an hour and there was still no sign of Tara Carpenter. Not that Amber was keeping count of the minutes or anything. 

She walks towards her friends, who actually arrived an hour earlier to help her set up the house, and waits for them to stop bickering as her eyes continue to scan the area near the door.

“This playlist is terrible.” Liv comments, her eyes scanning through Mindy’s spotify page.

The girl scoffs at the affront. “You literally listen to reggaeton unironically.”

“Has anyone heard from Tara?” Amber blurts out, her nervous expression quickly morphing into an apathetic one after she realizes the three of them are all staring at her.

“Worried your girlfriend will ditch you for her boyfriend?” Mindy asks humorously, hitting play on the most fuckboish playlist she can find, which earns her a high five from Chad. Liv just rolls her eyes at the two, taking a sip of her full to overflowing drink.

Amber ignores them, glancing around the room with a defeated look as the house starts to fill with even more horny, loud teenagers and a fucking Ric Flair Drip remix.

Liv offers her a cup of what seems to be rum and coke and winks at her sulking face. “She’s probably on her way.”

Amber sighs with relief as she takes the cup. Her and Liv never really had much in common, but Amber appreciated her light-hearted nature. On the other hand, Amber’s intimidating presence never really fazed Liv, except for the one time she almost sent Liv’s ex-boyfriend into CPR for harassing both her and Tara on their workplace during the summer. But in all honesty, that only made her like Amber even more.

Too busy swilling her drink, Amber almost misses the way Mindy nods her head towards the door. “Chin up, loser. Look behind you.”

When she does, she sees Brooke Maddox at her doorstep, surrounded by a bunch of new faces that Amber barely has time to associate to names as they all dissipate around the living room, leaving Brooke standing in the doorway by herself.

After grabbing a second drink that Liv smoothly passes her from behind, Amber straightens and moves in the direction of the first guest she actually likes enough to greet.

“Hey.” She gives the blonde an alluring smile, handing her the red cup.

Brooke’s eyes widen along with her smile as she accepts the drink. “Thanks, stranger.”

“Your friends?” Amber asks, nodding at the bunch of nerds awkwardly making their way into the crowd.

Brooke scrunches up her nose, scratching her forehead with her free hand. “Yeah... They’re not exactly party people.” She explains as they both laugh. “Maybe it’s because we just transferred from Lakewood – you know, after the incident and all. Moving schools mid semester felt so weird… especially for Emma, obviously. But I don’t know, personally I couldn’t wait to get out of that cursed hole…”

Amber was trying her hardest to listen to Brooke. She was actually interested in what the blonde had to say, she had heard about the messy situation at their old school and she lived for that kind of spooky stuff, but she could feel the odd, distracting sensation of being stared at. 

Her mouth goes dry after she subtly shifts her gaze from the blonde to look into a pair of familiar brown eyes standing just a few feet outside the door. 

Tara’s eyes are unmoving as they lock with Amber’s. 

Wes, always around her like a conjoined twin, was currently busy chatting with one of the smokers dissipating cigarette ash all over her patio to even notice his girlfriend staring at Amber in a way he most certainly never experienced.

They stay like that for a couple of moments, just taking in each other’s attire; Tara wearing a pink knit cropped jumper and skinny jeans, Amber in a black long sleeve bustier crop top and high-waisted pants.

It seems like an eternity has passed when Brooke finally turns to look at the source of Amber’s distraction, her gaze switching from confused to intrigued as she observes Tara return her attention to her date. 

“That’s Tara Carpenter, right?”

“Mhm.” It’s the absent-minded response.

“Were you two a thing?” 

The question snaps Amber back to reality. “What?” Her heart suddenly picks up, tone wavering a bit as her wide eyes meet the blonde’s curious look.

Because how does she explain Brooke that no, her and Tara had never been anything else other than enemies miraculously turned friends – and that probably that’s all they’ll ever be. 

Amber would lie if she said she didn't think about it sometimes. Multiple times, even. But she knows, deep in her heart, that it would never work. Every possible scenery in her head ends with Tara’s broken heart and the only real friendship she ever cared about completely ruined. No amount of attraction was worth that. 

Brooke smiles at the reaction, a knowing glint set in her eyes. “It looks painfully obvious.”

Amber opens her mouth, but nothing convincing seems to get out. When she looks back towards Tara’s direction, she notices both her and Wes are gone.

“She’s just my best friend.” She explains eventually.

“She’s your best friend…” Brooke repeats slowly, her contagious smile still plastered on her lips and Amber gets the subtle feeling she’s messing with her. “I see.”

Amber rolls her eyes, bringing the cup to her lips to cover up a smile but Brooke is already laughing and tapping her chin with a perfectly manicured finger. “Do I get a shot in the meantime?”

The surprise lasts about a second before Amber’s lips widen into her signature smirk. 

*

Tara drinks. 

After greeting her friends with a hug, the first place she goes to is the little corner bar in the living room. 

She just couldn’t find anything better to do at the moment, so she keeps drinking the vodka shots a redhead girl from the cheerleading squad is setting up in front of her as she keeps thinking and wishing she was anywhere else but here. 

She stops after the fifth shot, feeling her throat burn.

She wasn’t much of a drinker, mostly because she was a lightweight and always ended up embarrassing herself somehow, but also because living with her mother all her life made her repulsed by the possibility of ever ending up like her. Genetics act funny sometimes, so one never knows.. 

When she catches Wes trying to impress her with his terrible beer pong skills, she simply shifts her gaze somewhere else, spotting Brooke in the corner between the kitchen and the stairs, probably waiting for Amber. Her face is illuminated by the whiteness of her iPhone’s screen, thumbs darting across it at lightning speed.

She was pretty, smart, fun to be around and so Amber’s type.

It’s not Tara’s intention to stare like a creep. It’s more like she was using Brooke’s face as a checkpoint to gather her thoughts together. Why was she feeling like throwing up already? Was it the vodka? Did she feel bad for Brooke and for the pain Amber would have eventually caused her? Was she jealous of her? Why couldn’t she feel the alcohol clouding these thoughts? Wasn’t that the reason why people get black out drunk in the first place?

Tara’s about to form a logic hint of hypothesis when she sees Brooke smiling at Amber’s approaching figure. The alcohol on her tongue starts to sting in the moment her best friend smiles back and points at something beside the kitchen with a brief head tilt.

The music makes Tara's head pound painfully behind her eyelids and before she knows it, they’re both out of her radar.

She groans when Liv passes by to snatch the vodka bottle from the cheerleader’s hands. 

*

One hour into the party, Mindy is eyeing the whole house to plan her next move.

A small crowd is gathered around the beer pong table, watching her brother compete against Lakewood’s resident creep, Kieran Wilcox. He has those tormented bad boy vibes that Mindy absolutely despise scattered all over his gloomy attire, so she wishes on his downfall pretty much instantly.

“Have you seen Amber?” She asks, popping up beside her brother.

Chad has his eyes fixed on the blue cups, studying the trajectory of the ping pong ball he’s about to launch in the air. “She’s in the basement, I think.”

“With hot stuff?” Mindy asks, scanning the area around the living room like an undercover spy.

Chad doesn’t really resemble the part. He just keeps furrowing his brow in concentration, adjusting the position of his arm. “Veeery possible…” He says slowly, watching the ball fly in the air and make a perfect arch, landing straight into the cup in the middle.

The people around them celebrates the outcome with loud cheers and as soon as her brother and the rest of his teammates start hitting each other like a bunch of brainless apes, Mindy steps away unamused. “Losers.”

She enters the kitchen, where she finds Liv and a few of her preppy classmates chatting about their boyfriends. 

“Liv!” She hisses, gesturing at the girl to come closer.

Liv notices her and tilts her head in confusion, before excusing herself from the conversation to join Mindy next to the fridge. “What’s up?”

“This is boring.” Mindy declares, tossing her battered red cup into a trash bag pinned to one of the chairs to get a fresh one from the stack near the sink.

“I’m having fun…”

“I bet.”

Liv scoffs. “Bye.” She spins around, ready to rejoin the previous convo, but Mindy drags her back by her pink dip-dyed hair. 

“Okay, no –  listen. We need to gather the group and a few extras in the living room.” Liv opens her mouth to speak, but before she can even think of asking why, Mindy is talking again. “We gotta shake things up a bit.”

“So game time?” She smiles widely, eyes glinting.

“Game time.”

Planets seem to align when Tara sets foot in the kitchen and both Mindy and Liv observe her refill her cup with more alcohol.

“Where’s Amber?” The duo asks at the same time, making Tara groan loudly and spill a bit of her drink from slamming it a little too hard on the kitchen island.

“I’m not her babysitter.” 

Mindy and Liv share a side look, pondering on what to say next.

“T, maybe you should slow down…” Liv begins, knowing Tara only drinks this much when she’s upset at something. Or someone. Always the same someone.

Tara waves her off, but before Liv can take the bottle from her hands, Mindy talks.

“We’re low on beer.”

Tara looks between her and the fridge, a pending finger pointing at it. “I saw tons of cans in there…” 

“Yeah no, you saw wrong.” Mindy moves a dismissive hand, ignoring Liv’s glare burning the side of her face. 

Tara stumbles at the sudden weight of the girl’s arm around her shoulders. “Could you pleeease go downstairs and grab some? We’re playing charades in 5 and need the booze. Right Liv?”

“Yeah… but I can come along if you want.”

Mindy’s wide open eyes seem to warn her to not get in her plan's way. “No, Olivia. You gotta go get the board, remember?”

“Do not call me that.” Liv snarls, gritting her teeth and walking closer – and Tara’s too busy draining the rest of her drink to notice them act weirder than normal.

“Or what?”

“Alright, enough you two.” She plants her hands on both their faces, shushing them. “I’ll go get the stupid beers.”

Mindy gives Tara a light shove and a slap on the ass, grinning after making her almost trip on her own feet. 

When she’s out of earshot, Liv punches her friend’s arm with all the force she has. “You’re the fucking worst.” She grunts, flashing her the umpteenth – and certainly not last – disapproving look of the night.

Mindy sighs, massaging the sore spot with a shameless proud smile. “Those idiots will thank me one day.”  

*

Amber should really fix this stupid light. It’s the first thing Tara thinks when the switch ends up not working. She sighs as she turns on the flashlight of her phone and gets down the basement's stairs, shivering at the change in temperature. 

She takes comfort in the muffled music from upstairs keeping her some company as she finally arrives in front of the fridge.

The weak bulb light on top of it is enough to make her spot a blonde girl straddling another on the couch a few feet away from her. She flinches a bit in surprise when she realizes that’s Amber and turns away to avoid seeing Brooke moving against her like they were used to do this every other day. 

Tara hastily kicks the fridge door, startling the girls and hurting her foot in the process and god, she just can’t wait to finally go home and scream into a pillow until she falls asleep and forgets about the last couple of days. Or weeks. 

“Keep doing what you’re doing. I just need to grab some beers.” 

She opens the fridge with a little too much force, causing the girl next to Amber to quickly stand up and clear her throat. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Amber’s head fall against the backrest of the couch as she rubs both her hands on her eyelids. “Upstairs. First door on the left.” 

Brooke nods, muttering a soft ‘thanks’ right before racing up the stairs. Amber doesn’t blame her, the tension always felt suffocating whenever her and Tara happened to be in the same room. 

When she turns around to glance at her best friend’s glare facing the opened fridge, her lips automatically curve in a small, almost unnoticeable smile. 

Both doors close at the same time. 

Tara struggles to hold as much beer boxes as possible against her chest, walking until she reaches the stairs’ first step. She lingers there for a moment, debating on whether or not she should turn around. 

Against her better judgement, she does – only to find Amber already staring at her.

“Need a hand?” 

“No.”

Her phone falls off her back pocket. Amber raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes.” 

Amber stands up and places Tara’s phone back in her pocket, noticing the girl blushing and her arms relaxing a bit after she takes the weight of the bigger box on the top off of her.

When she moves to take the stack from Tara’s hands too, their fingers brush together for a split second and Tara thinks that would’ve been a nice moment if only her hand hadn’t been under Brooke Maddox’s top not even a minute before.

“Jerk.”

“Mh?”

Tara cringes as she realizes she said that out loud, especially after she sees the dumb smirk on Amber’s face.

“We’re playing charades. Upstairs.” She tells her, making her best friend press her lips together to suppress a potentially dangerous laugh. “In 5.”  She adds, turning her back to her.

Amber never keeps her eyes off of her as she staggers up the stairs looking shorter than ever. She bites her lip, shaking her head at the sight. 

The door closes with a back kick, but Amber still makes out the sound of a slurred voice shouting in the distance. “Dude! Someone just vomited on Amber’s bed!”

Yeah, she’s definitely killing someone tonight.

*

Tara smiles proudly as she manages to take all the stocked bottles safe and sound to the kitchen by herself.

Liv bolts up from the couch to help her place them on the aisle, her eyes darting over to Amber storming towards the upper floor for a second.

“Everything okay?” She asks, eyeing the shorter girl with caution.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” Tara frowns, observing people grabbing the bottles like monkeys at a bananas store.

Mindy stops sucking faces with Frances for half a second to ask, “what about Amber?”

Tara’s eyes dart between the two, quickly narrowing into suspicious slits. “How do you know Amber’s downstairs?”

A few heads turn to look at the feistiest Meeks-Martin.

“Game time!” She announces as she scatters to get up, gaining attention from people all around the room.

Liv clasps her hands together happily, jumping on Tara’s back as they stumble into the the living room. “Finally! I’m a pro at charades.” 

“We’re not playing charades, Liv. These ain’t the 60s.”

When Liv looks up at Mindy, there's pure betrayal in her eyes. “But you said-”

At the same time, Frances looks up at her girlfriend. “I wanna play charades too.” 

“Charades it is.” Mindy retracts, pecking Frances’ lips before turning to write on the board a few feet away from the couch. “I’m winning anyway.”

Liv scoffs, hopping off Tara’s back to crash right on the couch. “Whipped.”

She motions for Chad to stop drinking beer upside down and come join them as the living room starts to fill with movie nerds and casual viewers.

They quickly split into 3 teams and start to mimic cult movies scenes. 

10 minutes in, Mindy’s team is leading with a humiliating difference in scores.

Both Liv and Chad start off terribly.

Liv literally loses bonus points for not knowing My Own Private Idaho during her first round.

“Isn’t it the one with the matrix dude and, uh– joker’s brother?” She gestures vaguely, as if that could help her memory work faster.

Her boyfriend clasps his hands together with a smack, brow furrowed in realization. “Ah, yes! The cowboy drama, we saw that.” 

Mindy stares at them in disbelief. “Just say you hate gay people.”

Chad is also a complete disaster on the elevated horror field. 

“What in the fuck is a Babadook?” He asks startled, occasionally seeking support in his sister’s eyes, who does nothing but target him with chips each time.

Tara shakes her head at him, her expression a mix between disappointment and amusement as both her and Mindy briefly notify him on the plot and how it's an amazing meditation on motherhood and grief.

“Yeeahhh… not for me.” Chad says once they're done. “Nothing will beat The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” He adds, imitating the sound of a chainsaw while being acclaimed by the drunken howling sounds of a few teammates and some random people splattered all over the couch.

The girls roll their eyes at them, setting the board for another round.

Tara sighs as she takes in the state of the living room. The stench of sweat, smoke, and booze that was typical of any teenage party was making her nauseous. The floor was covered in trampled paper cups, crumbs of chips, peanuts and suspicious sticky stains. 

She catches Noah Foster miraculously save a crystal bowl from falling off the mantelpiece after his friend accidentally hit it with her elbow, observing them look around to check if someone noticed. When Noah finds her gaze, he raises a hand. She waves back, smiling as they step away from the crime scene hilariously fast.

A cone of reddish led light makes the silver frame above the bowl sparkle, sinisterly revealing a photo of Amber’s parents on their wedding day.

Tara had encountered them only a few times in the span of three years, but she always found both their gazes to be extremely cold and calculating.

She spent so many afternoons and nights at Amber’s house, keeping her company along with the rest of the gang, having shitty movies marathons and surviving on takeaway food. Sometimes, Tara would tune out of group conversations to look at her best friend, searching for any sign of loneliness or sadness, but Amber had the natural power of reassuring her with just a tilt of her head, easing Tara’s worries enough to make her rest her head on her shoulder for the rest of the movie.

Tara understood the pain of growing up with absent parents, but at least she had Sam, who served as a sister, friend and even mother to her most of the times.

However, as time passed, she realized Amber was happier when her parents weren’t around.

The sound of an empty bottle slamming on the coffee table drags her back into the game.

“Ah! Time’s up! You lose.” Liv declares, grinning as she draws a cross on Mindy’s team side of the whiteboard. 

“Where the fuck is the owner of this house?” Mindy groans at the fourth round of charades gone wrong.

No one in her team guessed her perfectly spot on Pennywise impression – which shes’s 100% sure Amber would’ve got in a heartbeat – making them lose their victory strike.

“I still can’t believe Liv and Chad’s La La Land dance won last round.” Wes notes, shoving a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

Liv just chuckles. “Gotta refill!” She states, sprinting towards the alcohol dispenser station.

At the same time, Chad scrolls through his instagram and takes a selfie with the caption #BoycottShareds underneath it, making Brooke laugh when she sneaks up behind him.

For a second, Tara wonders if she was with Amber and that’s why they both missed the game. But then again, she doesn’t really wanna know the answer.

“That’s not how you spell it, champ.” 

Chad looks down at the phone, then throws his head back at her, deleting the post to snap another picture - this time with the blonde in the frame, making her laugh even harder.

“Here, Lady grammar… all yours.” He slurs, handing her the phone.

The girl shakes her head and posts the photo with the correct hashtag while they both tipsily chat about their followers count and exchange profiles.

“Blondie, have you seen Amber?”

Brooke looks up at Mindy, then at Tara, who challengingly raises an eyebrow at her. “Uh, yeah. She was upstairs a few minutes ago.” 

“Be right back.” Tara announces after glancing around the room, getting up as she plants a hand on Wes’ head for stability. 

“Yeah, that’s right!” Mindy agrees, too busy wiping the whiteboard with the force of a hurricane. “Drag her ass back here!”

Tara raises a thumb up before disappearing into the crowd to go look for her best friend, much to Mindy’s joy and Wes’ displeasure. 

She smiles when she notices Liv from across the room walking over to the hi-fi stereo with her phone in hand.

Mindy’s smile disappears when the first notes of Sin Pijama abruptly start playing in the middle of Truffle Butter’s best verse. 

“LIV, I SWEAR TO GOD – YOU’RE GONNA DIE TONIGHT!”

*

Please someone remind me to never host a fucking party ever again. Amber repeats it in her head like a mantra, storming her way through the smokers and loners occupying her patio.

Her irritation increases at every step as she drags the trash bag containing vomit and permanently stained sheets to the sidewalk adjacent her backyard.

She stomps on the dumpster’s pedal without looking, pushing the sack inside and closing it with the same level of violence.

In that split second, something sharp pierces through the skin of her palm. “Shit!” She hisses at the broken beer bottle hanging from the dumpster, her lips twitching in pain.

Feeling her eyes burn with fresh tears she’ll never allow herself to shed, she looks down at her hand, noticing blood ooze from the fresh red cut crossing her palm. She closes it in a fist, ignoring the stinging ache.

“Nice house!” A new voice comments from behind her, making her jump on the spot and curse under her breath. 

Amber turns around to find an unfamiliar blonde girl in a car smiling at her, but before she can even care to remember if she knows her, a second woman exits the car, marching straight towards her; Amber wishes she didn’t know this one.

“Like my night couldn’t get worse…” She mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re not invited.”

Sam Carpenter is staring at her with a strange twinkle in her eyes, as if she was happy to see her reduced to a walking bundle of nerves.

The amused gaze turns into a worried one when she notices the blood dripping from her hand. “Are you bleeding? The hell are you fuckheads doing in there?” She questions, taking a step forward to glare at the flickering lights coming out the windows.

Before she can even think of storming inside with the force of a SWAT squad, Amber stops her.

“God, calm down, paw patrol. I just scratched my hand ‘cause it’s dark and I didn’t see the glass.” She explains, moving the injured hand behind her back.

They didn't really have a proper conversation since Sam's comeback to Woodsboro; whenever Amber went to Tara’s, Sam was away from home or going out as soon as she arrived.

It wasn’t necessarily on purpose, but it’s also no secret how they weren’t exactly each other’s biggest fan. Still, they always managed to keep things civil, for a common greater good.

Amber nods at the car. “You finally got interesting enough to get a girlfriend?”

“Nope, still boring.” Kirby replies without looking, maniacally shuffling through radio stations.

Sam ignores both and tosses an orange inhaler at a confused Amber, who catches it surprisingly fast considering her reflexes being slowed by the alcohol. “I just finished my shift. Tara left her inhaler in my bag.” 

Amber’s brow furrows as she takes a look at the object in her hands. “I already got a spare one in my room.” 

“What?”

“What what?”

Sam squares her through equally confused eyes. “You keep an extra inhaler in your room?”

“Obviously. And another one in my backpack.” She adds, like that’s the most obvious piece of information in the world.

Sam is silent as she studies the girl in front of her. She didn’t expect that. Maybe she was a tiny bit wrong for judging Amber without really knowing her.

“What’s with the face? You’re being weird.”

Nevermind, still a little bitch. 

Sam gets close enough for the younger girl to see the barely concealed threat in her eyes, her tone as calm as ever. “Break her heart and you’re dead.” 

It takes Amber a bit to catch up with Sam’s thought process and when she does, she can’t contain the surprise. She definitely forgot how intimidating the older girl could get.

“Clean up that cut, Freeman.” Sam calls out lastly, walking back to her car – and from her tone Amber could swear she was smiling.

Her eyebrow twitches as Sam drives off.

“I think you broke her.” The blonde informs her after checking the rear view mirror, where a stunned Amber is progressively getting smaller.

Sam barely spares her a glance as she grips the steering wheel, adjusting her back against the seat. “Good.” 

Kirby rolls her eyes so far behind her head it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck. “Come on, Sam… You gotta let your sister live a little!” She comments. “Besides.. miss Project X doesn’t seem that bad.” She adds, to reassure or upset her more – that’s not clear.

When Sam met Kirby a little over a year ago after her first shift at the diner, they immediately hit it off and their co-workers bond turned into a pretty solid friendship in the span of a few months, from covering for each other when one was late to Sam’s promotion as Kirby’s personal driver. It was kinda unexpected, considering Sam always sucked at maintaining stable personal relationships, but with the blonde acting like they knew each other since childhood just came natural.

“Yeah, I know that..” She mumbles after a while, eyes fixed on the road. “I just don’t want Tara to get hurt. That’s all.” 

Kirby nods but stays quiet, waiting for Sam to continue.

“Well, she looks like a hurter.”

“That’s not even a word.”

“Are you ever on my side?” Sam snaps, ignoring Kirby’s protests when she changes station out of frustration.

The first notes of a soft indie song are enough to make Kirby slowly turn her head towards the driver.

“Fucking Mac DeMarco?”

“Yes.”

“Pull over.”

*

After a 15 minutes search, with the additional bonus of stumbling into couples making out in pretty much every room except Amber’s, Tara is about to give up.

“Move!”

Her eyes shoot up at the sound of the rage filled voice coming from up the stairs, the one she’d recognize everywhere and there she is – Amber Freeman, probably on the verge of committing at least a triple homicide, pushing her way into the horde camped outside the bathroom door.

She’s yelling at people to move out of sight, literally shoving a horny couple out before kicking the door shut behind her.

Tara excuses herself to the drunk crowd spread against and on the handrail, taking a deep breath before entering the bathroom. 

She quickly glances around the bathroom and sets her gaze on a frantic Amber, who was currently throwing the rest of the surviving pieces of her bedding in the laundry hamper.

Amber is about to lift her shirt and shove it God knows where but when she looks up at the door closing, she puts it back down with a grunt and opens the faucet instead, scrubbing her hands with soap so fast that the cut on her palm starts to sting harder than before.

Tara frowns, back pressed against the door. “Did someone die in there?” She asks her with the same amused look her awful older sister reserved her earlier, nodding at the mess of clothing and trash bags scattered on the floor.

“I wish.” The girl replies through clenched teeth, keeping her hands down to avoid letting Tara see the blood mix with the white surface of the sink.

Her best friend stares at her for a bit, before turning and leaving the bathroom without a word. 

Amber feels her heart drop at the door closing, but she blinks back the hint of tears and starts scrubbing her hands and shirt even faster. She only stops when her abdomen starts to get wet as well.

“Shit.” She mutters, turning the water off and wiping her hands on the towel below the washbasin.

The bathroom door leans open again.

“Get the fuck out.” Amber hisses at whoever dared enter the bathroom in that precise moment, but as soon as she raises her gaze to shoot daggers at the person, she feels something soft collide with her face.

She lets the shirt slip down to her hands, watching Tara hop on the countertop with a tiny jump. 

Amber’s gaze finally relaxes, as well as the rest of her body. “Thanks.”

Tara turns her head away when Amber changes into new clothes, unable to contain her smile after hearing the sound of Amber’s necklace moving against her skin. 

“Do you ever take it off?” 

Amber feels her face flush a little. “Rarely.”

Tara nods in understanding, smiling softly at her best friend when she looks at her for feedback, but before she can open her mouth, a shrill voice pierces through the air.

“AMBER FREEMAN!”

Amber freezes. When Tara’s wide eyes snap towards her, there’s only one legit question in them.

“Riley.” Amber whispers, mirroring Tara’s expression. 

They sprint towards the door at the same time. As soon as their heads peek outside, Riley Marra finds their gaze immediately and struts closer with pure hatred in her eyes. She looked… furious? And drunk – definitely not the best combo.

Without thinking, Amber drags Tara back in the bathroom by the arm and shuts the door closed.

Tara stumbles back a bit. “Ouch, you idiot!” She grunts, her head pounding even harder. “Leave me out of this.” 

Her hand reaches for the handle.

“No, no, no, no! No.” Amber stops her, eyes pleading. “Don’t.”

“You’re such a loser, my god.” Tara scowls, wriggling from her grip to walk to the countertop and hop on it once again.

Amber lets her eyelids finally close, her head resting on the closed door. “We’re staying here until she cools down.” 

“So forever.” Tara mutters, pulling her phone out to text Mindy.

found her before riley. we’re in the bathroom.

It takes Mindy about ten seconds to reply.

mindy (00:39 am)
stay there and make outw. im beating livs ass at shot roulette 

mindy (00:40 am)
dont takr too long we’re an hour behind  schedule

The door suddenly trembles with the force of fists banging on it from the outside. 

They flinch at the same time, and Amber slides her back against the door until she sits on the floor in defeat. 

‘Why do I keep hosting these freaks in my house?’ she thinks as she once again promises herself this would be the last time.

“You know… she sounds upset.” 

Amber snarls at Tara’s slurred observation.

“What do I do?” She whines, wishing nothing more than for the ground at her feet to finally swallow her. 

She couldn’t deal with stuff like this with a sober mind, let alone a drunk one.

“How about you apologize, hm?”

Amber’s glaring expression melts into a sarcastic one. “Right. Let’s open the door so I can tell Jack Torrance how sorry I am for ghosting her ass after fucking her in the janitor’s closet!”

“Such class.”

Another bang. “It was Ms. Prescott’s office, you jackass!”

“Get over it!” Amber shouts back, slamming her open hand on the door, and wincing a second later.

She closes her hand in a fist full force and brings it to her chest, wincing in pain.

Tara notices the thin red trail stamped on the door and looks back at Amber with worried eyes.

“Let me see.” She orders, jumping down from the countertop to kneel beside her best friend.

Amber shifts in her place; something in her chest stutters and she feels the need to look away. “No.”

“Amber.”

The raven-haired girl finally gives in and unnails her hand back open, revealing the deep red cut on her palm.

Tara’s lips part in shock, but it merely lasts a second before she shakes her head sober and gets up. “Stay here.” 

“What?”

“Sit and don’t talk.” She orders again, stumbling away to soak the nearest cloth under the sink.

Amber obliges, staying still as she watches Tara reach for the first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet.

The hot fuzzy feeling returns to her chest again. She can’t put a name to it yet, but she might as well just give it Tara’s since she’s essentially what triggers it each time.

The sound of fists banging on the door finally stops.

“Is she gone?”

Amber blinks rapidly, diverting her gaze from Tara’s figure. “I think so.”

When she turns her head back, she sees Tara kneeling between her legs, carefully taking her bleeding hand into hers to dab it with the wet cloth. 

They sit in silence for a good minute, the only sounds coming from outside being the muffled The Weeknd song playing and their schoolmates’ distant chatter.

Amber is the one to break the comfortable quietness.

“I thought you wouldn’t came.”

Tara nods. “Yeah.” Me too. “I had to decline on dinner with Wes and his mom.” 

Amber doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry; since in doubt, her lips automatically curl in disgust. “He brings Honey Lemon to all his dates?”

Tara ignores her. “She’s nice. Not to mention she raised Wes on her own and all.” She says, trying to wrap the gauze firmly around her hand. 

It takes a while, because they’re both drunk and Amber can’t stay still to save her life.

She doesn’t really know why she was defending the woman who had the fame of putting her teenage sister behind bars several times in the past. Perhaps, a part of her still feels in debt with Wes for not being able to reciprocate his feelings. 

“Are you really gonna praise your boyfriend’s mom? In that case, let me bleed to death.”

She rolls her eyes at the overdramatic comment. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Amber huffs a laugh. “Does he know?”

Tara sighs but doesn’t answer, taping the bandage in place and proceeding to scratch the blood off Amber’s nails with a wad.

“Why are you with him?” 

Her heart speeds up at the sudden question, but she still fails to catch the hint of jealousy in Amber’s voice.

She finds plenty of reasons, but none of them would make sense said out loud. “It’s easier.” She says anyway. 

Amber’s voice lowers to a whisper. “Easier than what?”

Tara finally lifts her eyes to meet her gaze, which feels incredibly heavy to hold sometimes, especially when matched to her proximity.

She makes the mistake of glancing down at her lips and now she’s too mesmerized to concentrate on anything else; the alcohol in her system making it hard to register that they’re both slowly and unconsciously leaning in. It feels like a deja vu but this time Amber is thankful to be under the influence of almost every type of booze known to human kind, otherwise she would have never dreamed of sliding a hand up Tara’s side and lean in just enough so that their lips could graze.

They’re so close she can feel Tara’s heart slam against her ribcage. The closer she gets, the faster it beats.

In that precise moment, the door opens with a thud, pushing Amber into Tara. Their foreheads bump together, making them groan in pain. “Fuck!” 

Chad peeks his head inside. "Oh, hi." His smile is wide and relaxed as she stares at them with dizzy red eyes. "Why are you two blocking the door?"

“What do you want!?” Amber screeches in agony. 

“Always so sou-” The rest of the sentence is a mystery as he's sadly yeeted backwards by his girlfriend.

“YOU DUMB MORON, I TOLD YOU TO KNOCK!” Liv snaps, stumbling into the bathroom.

She’s moving so fast it takes Amber and Tara less than a second to realize they’re both high.

“I’m this close to murder Mindy.” She explains, her eyes narrowing to the maximum. “So get out and join the game before sunrise, yeah?”

She scans the bathroom before leaving, looking more confused than ever. Her gaze lands back on her friends holding their foreheads. “Is that blood? Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She rambles, waving her hands. “Living room. NOW.”

The bathroom door closes again.

*

When they make their comeback to the living room and take place in pretty much opposite directions from each other, everyone is too busy chanting StarBoi3’s Dick like they’re at a concert to even notice.

Everyone except Mindy, obviously. “Fucking finally. Truth or dare time!” She declares, earning some cheers and a few timid reactions of dissent.

“Really?” Amber groans from her spot between Chad and Brooke, taking a sip of the drink the blonde offers her.

“Shut it, Freeman. I don’t recall giving you permission to speak after making me lose against Liv.” Mindy snaps back, her tone filled with dramatic venom.

The host rolls her eyes, waving her hand in a gesture that asks her friend to get over it and proceed.

Mindy smiles in response, grabbing an empty beer bottle from the coffee table as everyone begin to sit in a circle around it.

“Alright bitches, you all know the rules. If you refuse to perform the dare, you drink. If you don’t answer truth with the truth, you drink. Ready?”

She doesn’t even wait for a response to spin the bottle, sadistically observing the looks of terror flash in everyone’s eyes.

Sitting between his sister and Liv, Chad watches the bottle rotate and consoles himself by thinking that no matter what happens, they'll all be too drunk and high by the end of the night to remember it.

A few cheers erupt when it stops and lands on Tara.

Mindy clasps her hands together. “Carpenter! Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

The cheers suddenly turn into a booing session and Mindy reinforces the message by throwing a dorito at her head.

“This is a free country.” Tara reminds them, making her friend roll her eyes. She’d love to be braver, but knowing she reached her drinking limit for the night, she wisely chooses to play it safe.

“Fine, boring ass.” She sighs and wiggles the tip of her fingers like a cartoon villain, trying to come up with something good. “Who would you fuck in our elitist friend group? Like… right now.”

“God, Mindy!”

“What the hell…”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Liv.”

Five head snaps towards her. “What?!” It’s the unanimous reaction.

Tara shrugs. “Yeah. I think Liv’s cool.”

Liv is so touched she literally lunges herself at Tara. “Aw, thanks T! You’re gorgeous, by the way. I’d definitely try you out...” She slurs, poking her cheek.

Wes simply sighs, while Chad looks like he’s pondering options like he’s a contestant at The Millionaire. He ends up smiling at them fondly, raising his beer in their direction. “That’s beautiful, girls. I support.”

“Gross.”

“Can’t flirt for shit.”

Mindy and Amber aren’t that classy, obviously, so Liv silences them with a glare. “My turn!”

When she spins the bottle for the first time and it stops on Chad, half the group is ready to swear she cheated, so she proclaims herself absolutely offended by such an accusation and spins the bottle again. When even on the second round the chosen one turns out to be Chad, the whole group is now straight up accusing her of cheating, but Liv just smiles innocently and throws her arms around Chad’s neck.

Between the general whistles, they exchange a long kiss, which tastes of vodka and weed, breaking away from each other only after Mindy throws a cushion in their direction. “That’s not how it works, you idiots! Get a room.”

Chad winks at his sister, his hands still firm on Liv’s waist. “We will.”

Amber raises a threatening finger. “No, you will not.” She states, blowing out an annoyed breath through her nose. “Next.”

They play a couple more rounds in total harmony, laughing and trolling each other in a surprising comfortable atmosphere, until the bottle lands on Amber during Mindy’s turn.

She avoided answering truths from nosy people by taking shots after shots since it generally takes her a good while to get drunk. She has a strong tolerance to alcohol so she usually doesn’t stop drinking until her head spins, like now.

She labels it as a mistake as soon as she sees the satisfied expression on Mindy’s face.

“Finally! Truth or dare, bitch?”

God knows how many drinks in, Amber doesn’t even think about it. “Dare.”

Mindy smiles, trying not to think of this moment as the possible highlight of the night. “Classic spin the bottle. You gotta kiss whoever it lands on.”

“Tongue?”

“Duh. What are you, 10?”

“You’re aware it could land on you as well, right?” Amber snaps.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Mindy smirks in return, draping an arm around Frances before her girlfriend can register what she said. “Just kidding, babe. I hate her.”

“30 seconds minimum.” Liv adds, melting in Chad's embrace. “I’d say 1 minute but that’s our record.”

Amber tries to focus but it’s hard because the music is piercing her eardrums and her eyes feel heavy as she struggles to take in her surroundings.

She wasn’t really in the mood to make out with anyone at the moment – and even if she did have someone in mind, the chances were way too low anyway.

“Spin! Spin! Spin!”

The chants only get louder and she can feel her eyes drifting towards Tara’s spot, but the possibility of seeing Wes all over her makes them travel back to Brooke instead.

She’s looking like the most sober out of everyone, yet she matches the general excitement when she suggests Amber to spin the bottle.

Mindy just grins. “You can always back down.”

“Fuck it.”

Amber holds her breath as she makes the vodka bottle rotate, the alcohol in her system making it harder to react with the usual coolness. The only sounds that follows the gesture are the music and the distant chatter of people extraneous to the situation.

For a terrifying instant, the neck seems to swing towards Chad, but Brooke subtly twitches her stretched out leg under the coffee table, and the bottle moves again, stopping on Tara.

Mindy’s mouth hangs open and Frances has to reach out and close it shut for her.

The room breaks into in a wild mess of whistles, stunned gasps and sexist comments from the jocks – which Chad promptly shush with a glare.  

Amber blinks slowly, as if to register the outcome. She looks up at Tara, who glances between her and the bottle with a blank expression before Wes distracts her with something Amber can’t and doesn’t even want to hear.

She turns her head a bit to look at Brooke – because she’s drunk but definitely not dumb, and sees the blonde wink at her.

Someone in the crowd is yelling at her to move and get the girl.

So she does.

She crawls over to Tara, watching her stare at the movements of her hips with hefty eyes.

Liv and Chad, known for sharing one brain cell whenever they get high, drag Wes backwards by the waistband of his pants until he’s positioned between them, looking like their bratty adopted child.

“We love you, dude.” Chad whispers, proceeding to link an arm around Wes’ shoulders and cover his eyes with his hand.

Wes glares from behind his friend’s tightened fingers, but doesn’t say anything nor slaps the hand away.

Mindy chuckles hysterically at the trio bracing themselves as if they were about to assist to a meteor shower, her teeth sinking in the rim of her cup.

And Tara is so glad she accepted the twins’ flaming absinthe shot just a couple of minutes earlier, probably sensing something like this could’ve happened, otherwise she would’ve panicked straight into her next respiratory failure. But for the first time in a while, due to her mind failing to form a single sensed thought, Amber’s proximity feels almost calming. Both of them feeling like they’re exactly where they’re supposed to be.

When Amber sees Tara nod at the unspoken question in her eyes, she shifts closer, almost straddling her.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, then Amber is kissing her.

And it's all far more intense than they imagined. It’s nothing like kissing Wes, or Brooke, or any of their previous partners.

Their mouths move on their own in perfect sync, teeth grazing each other’s lips.

Tara’s lips feel so impossibly soft it’s driving Amber insane to think she let the fear of ruining their friendship deprive her of something like this for years. The heat that sets on her abdomen burns like lava, but still feels like one of the most peaceful feelings she ever experienced.

Not much time passes before she slips her tongue in her mouth and Tara finds herself moving forward. Her hand comes up to tangle in Amber’s hair, nails digging in the older girl's neck as she pulls her closer.

She doesn’t think she can ever get tired of kissing Amber. There’s just something about her that’s so addictive, from her whole personality to the way she looks at her – which is completely different from the way she looks at anything and anyone else.

It’s a puzzle of little things Tara failed to notice until their lips touched.

Someone clears their throat and Tara pulls her head back from Amber's, their lips making a quiet popping sound as a trail of saliva lingers in between for a second.

“Well...” Liv breathes watching them part, looking just as stunned as the rest of the group. “Looks like someone broke our record.”

Neither of them says anything, not trusting their voice to speak. And much to everyone’s surprise, Amber is the one struggling to get back to her senses. Not like Tara wasn’t rethinking all of her life decisions too, but she definitely managed to hide it better.

Mindy bolts up like a spring, grinning proudly. “And that’s it, dudes! Show’s over. Get lost now.”

People are visibly upset as they get not so gently invited to clear the house.

Liv checks the time on her phone. It was barely past 2 am, a perfectly average time for wanting guests out of the way.

Wes gets up too, looking crestfallen. His eyes are searching for Tara’s and Amber feels her jaw tighten, her eyes narrowing as soon as Tara turns to look at her to ask a silent question.

She can’t help but nod, finding comfort in the way Tara’s thumb travels up to wipe the smudged lipstick off the corner of her mouth. She misses her touch as soon as she’s turning to follow Wes outside.

*

“Do you like her?”

It’s the first thing Wes asks her once they’re outside.

Tara shifts her gaze towards the guests starting to leave Amber’s house. She sucks in a shaky breath. “I think so, yeah.”

Correction: Tara doesn’t think so. Tara knows so. She’s never been more sure of anything in her life. And she’s so not gonna tell him that.

She watches Wes bring his hands to his hips, a nervous habit he always had since he was a kid.

“Wes, I’m so-”

Wes holds up a hand. “No.”

Tara can’t read his tone, which worries her. The last thing she wanted to do tonight was break his heart.

“It’s not your fault.” Wes breathes bitterly, the words taking Tara by surprise. “It was all me. I exhausted you into this and blew my chances from the start.”

The guilt returns again, like a heavy knot in her chest.

“It wasn’t all you.” Tara objects, her tone firm. She needs Wes to not feel guilty about something they messed up together. “I still showed up to every date and no matter how many I told you so I said, I still unknowingly led you on, thinking I was doing you a favor.”

Wes smiles a sad smile, hands buried deep in his pockets. “You’re a great friend, Tara.”

Tara hugs him in response, feeling Wes circling her waist at the same time as the giant boulder dissolves from her shoulders.

She wants to tell him how much she cares about him, but Wes already knows – just as they both know that no matter what happens, they’ll always have each other’s back.

“Plus-” He continues, the hint of a genuine smile finally forming on his lips. “I’m pretty sure Amber will fuck up sooner or later. That’s when I’ll bounce back in the game.” He says jokingly, making Tara slap his arm but laugh nonetheless.

They were gonna be fine.

*

“Jealousy suits you, Freeman.” Mindy points out, watching her friend glare at Wes’ back from where she’s seated.

She gets up, flips Mindy off and moves towards the couch, noticing a few passed out drunk people that she would’ve had to drag outside in a bit.

She quickens her pace, ignoring the heavy and tight feeling in her chest as she tries not to think about Tara and Wes standing outside alone, telling each other god knows what.

As more people start to leave, Brooke remains the only one on the couch, too busy scrolling through her instagram.

“The best friend is feisty.” She comments, sounding genuinely amused, her eyes still glued to her screen.

Amber glares at her for a fair amount of time.

“How?” She grumbles, moving to drop on the couch next to the blonde.

Brooke clicks her tongue, a smug smile curving her lips. “With my leg.”

“Not what I meant.” The host grumbles, pushing Brooke’s phone off her hands, which leads to nothing but the blonde’s crystalline laugh. “Did Mindy hire you or something?”

Brooke’s laugh stops abruptly as she finally looks up at her. “Of course not! I was actually interested in you.” She replies, sounding genuinely offended. “You’re a fantastic kisser, by the way.”

Amber rolls her eyes but returns the smile anyway.

Brooke had been a great snog, which could’ve easily turned into a regular thing if only Amber wasn’t so hopelessly in love with her best friend.

“However, your friend did corner me outside the bathroom, confirming my suspects.” Brooke continues. Typical Mindy – sneaking up on people was her literal side job. “I just figured all you needed was a little push... literally.”

Amber hums, biting her lip almost hard enough to draw blood. She could still taste Tara’s peach flavored lips on her own and it was driving her insane.

Why didn’t she say anything after the kiss? And why the hell were they talking so damn long for?

Brooke looks at her, teeth grazing her bottom lip as she attempts to control the width of her grin. “You’re in love, aren’t you?” She didn’t mean to sound that mocking, but messing with Amber was just too fun.

In fact, Amber huffs a tired grunt, drifting lower in the couch. “Ugh, you’re worse than Mindy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a good minute until Brooke, alert as an hawk, smiles at something – someone behind Amber and pats her leg with a smack. Amber frowns adorably as Brooke gets up to leave.

“All yours, Carpenter.”

Those three words are enough to make Amber’s heart pound 10 times faster for the umpteenth time that night.

Tara quickly replaces Brooke on the the couch, except she decides to rest her head on Amber’s lap instead, legs stretched out on the armrest.

Amber knows what’s up.

“Are you high?”

Tara lets out a soft breath. “Yes, ma'am."

"... You really are."

"I’m so high right now.”

So what if she smoked half of Chad’s unattended joint before and after talking to Wes? She actually needed that, unlike him.

Amber’s chest fills with the same warm feeling she cannot control, every sort of negative thought finally leaving her mind. There’s only space for Tara and the sound of her laughter right now.

“So what now?”

Tara shifts in a sitting position, still placed on Amber's lap. “I’m still waiting for you to ask me out.” She mumbles, staring at Amber as the girl tilts her chin up to lock their gazes.

“I don’t ask people out.”

Tara moves her chin up, freeing herself from Amber’s grip. Her big glassy eyes narrowing into slits. “Come again?”

“I don’t ask people out.” She repeats, less conceited as soon as her eyes drop down to Tara’s lips. “But I’m so asking you out right now.”

Tara melts in a satisfied smile. “Much better.”

Amber rolls her eyes and shuts her up with a kiss, feeling Tara smile against her lips.

Not much time passes before Chad loads a passed out Liv on his shoulder and starts physically kicking everyone’s out, flickering the lights like a maniac and threatening to call the police to make them leave as fast as possible.

To back him up from the wall near the doorframe, stand both Mindy and Brooke - staring at the mess they created.

“They’re gonna be one of those couples, aren’t they?” Mindy mimics a barfing sound, arms stretched out to snap pictures of the two. Too bad she’s too out of it to notice she opened the calculator app instead and she’s just pressing the number 0 on repeat.

Brooke nods in realization, feeling more single than ever. “Not to be an empath… but I’m sensing we might have made a mistake here.”