Andee and Bex refused to leave me alone all day today until I told them every detail of both my Sunday night and last night with Ryder. Both of them squealing like school girls when I recalled him telling me that I'm important to him. They seemed to believe that we were a match made in heaven . . .but what they didn't know was that hearing that set off a domino effect of anxiety that hasn't left me alone since.

It has to be everything that happened with Miles. 

The fear that if I let myself care about someone again, I won't survive it. I barely survived Miles, that night, and the aftermath. What's worse, is that my past has been fresh in my mind. Sunday night when I went to bed, I dreamed about memories of Miles's funeral.

The cold grey day, rain drizzling over black umbrellas as we marched in a numb procession across the empty cemetery. It was like the universe knew what had just happened, what I was reliving every waking moment then. Everything felt eerily silent in the weeks following his death, as I barely left my room, having gone home for the rest of the semester.

At the time, Andee and Bex didn't question it, knowing I couldn't set foot in my old bedroom ever again. Not after what had happened there. Later, they'd even confessed to me they barely spent time in that apartment, unable to be there with the knowledge of Miles' overdose.

They'd hidden out at Justin's apartment then, shacking up on his couch.

In my dream Sunday night, I stood in the graveyard, staring at Miles's tombstone until I turned to stone myself, unable to speak or move as I became rooted to the spot where he'd been laid to rest.

Then, last night I essentially bared my soul to Ryder. 

I told him everything that I swore I'd never say to another person, confessed the pain I've been holding on to, let him hold me and comfort me because he's been the only one who can do that for me lately. I think it's because he was so gentle with me that night a couple months ago, when we really talked for the first time at the end of the double date with Tristan and Andee. Once I got a taste of the ease and understanding in his nature, I needed more. 

I still need more. 

But now I am staring at myself in the floor length mirror of my bedroom, examining my outfit for my date tonight with Emerson. A date I didn't even really want to go on, but Bex said it might be good for me not to put all eggs in one basket again so quickly and I had to agree with her. Even if what I really want to do is call Ryder and tell him I'm not going, change the expression that'd been on his face this morning when I mentioned this date.

I'd straightened my hair, applied a bit of makeup and chosen a light yellow dress, low cut and ruffled. It felt sunny – happy, the opposite of how I am feeling. Maybe part of me hoped wearing this would lift my mood enough to convince Emerson I am just as normal as he is. Then I remind myself he'd introduced himself to me mid-anxiety attack at the beginning of the school year.

Dread fills me when I realize I am never not going to be damaged to people who meet me, not as long as people remember where I am from and what happened to me.

"You okay?" I hear Andee's voice and turn my head, realizing she's standing in my doorway.

"Yeah. Why?" I ask, smiling slightly and she smiles back.

"You were just . . . so happy this past weekend," She says easily. "And now, you look like somethings bothering you again."

This weekend I was very happy. The happiest I'd been in a long fucking time, but it didn't last when everyone started asking me what was going on between Ryder and I, if we were dating now, if we actually liked each other. For some reason those questions turned back my emotional clock again.

"I think I'm nervous." I lie.

"You look hot." Andee giggles. "Emerson is definitely going to be into this look."

"Thank you." I grin, walking to my desk to grab my purse and phone, before returning to the doorway to my room.

"Is he picking you up?" She asks and I shake my head.

"No, I asked to meet him there." I say. "That felt like a safer option."

"That's valid." She nods. "You need a ride?"

"No thanks, I think I'm gonna walk," I reply as we step out of my room and walk down our hallway. "I think some fresh air will calm me down."

"Well, text me when you're there." She says quickly and I nod, glancing at my phone and realizing if I was going to walk, I needed to get going now. It's nearly 7:45. Bex had wished me luck earlier, having gone to work a couples hours ago, very disappointed she was missing seeing me off on my first official date since Miles.

"I will." I say and she smiles again, pulling me in for a brief hug which I return.

Then I'm locking the front door behind me, walking down our sidewalk and turning towards Pearl Street. I was excited to go to The Downer, I hadn't been there in a while, but part of me definitely felt a little anxious. Maybe it's the normality of the evening, the irony of the fact that I wished to feel normal until I actually started to and then would freak out again not escaping me.

Anxiety is a fucking bitch.

The walk to Pearl Street is comforting, and eventually I am stepping down the metal steps to the bar, handing my I.D. to the bouncer. I walk in, the atmosphere still calm as the night has barely begun. There are a few people playing pool, a few seated in the booths scattered around the bar and another group of frat boys playing darts across the room.

"Jourdan!" I turn my head and smile, seeing Emerson stand from a small booth in a corner of the bar, waving to me. I wave back, walking towards him and allowing him to pull me in for a gentle hug. He's dressed in plaid slacks and a black turtle neck, those horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose – the perfect epitome of a guy who probably spends a lot of time reading old novels and drinking black coffee.

"Hey," I smile. "Good to see you."

"You too." Emerson agrees, his wavy hair pushed back and expression easy as we both slide into the booth facing one another. "You look beautiful."

I feel the color rise in my cheeks as I smile at him, suddenly appreciating in this moment how different he is from Ryder. Ryder's dark and mysterious, his silent confidence something which used to irritate me. Emerson is light, easy on the eyes, the kind-of guy girls would be into because his demeanor slightly resembles that of Timothèe Chalamet.

"Thank you." I say softly, glancing around the bar at the still mellow scene, which would no doubt change as we got later into the night. "How's your week been so far?"

"Alright, I procrastinated an essay but finished it last night" He grins. "Probably would've gone better if I'd started earlier."

We both laugh at that, understanding the plight of the procrastinating college student all too well.

"Trust me, I feel the same way about every assignment I've submitted in college so far." I agree and he shakes his head. "I usually start when I'm supposed to but then I just sit around, finding literally anything else to do except for my homework."

"Yep, sounds exactly like how last night went for me." He laughs. "But I am so glad we got to do this finally."

"Me too." I agree, though I feel something twinge inside me at the thought of Ryder again, at the thought that I almost didn't come tonight because there's someone else on my mind. Both because of how he's made me feel recently and the fact that I ended up having the best sex of my life with him the other night.

"How's your week been so far?" He asks and I shrug.

"Oh, you know, class and homework," I say easily. "Nothing super special."

"Hmm," he nods. "You should come do your homework at my work sometimes if you're free." 

"Where do you work?"

"At this coffee shop down the street actually, and it's always so fucking busy during my shifts. I try to bring some homework and never get it done. But I'd gladly miss out on my homework if it meant I was serving you your coffee." His comment makes me want to laugh, little does he know, I'm actually more of a tea person. But I don't mention this. 

"Oh yeah, which coffee shop?" I ask.

"Ozo Coffee Corner." He offers and I nod, faintly picturing a coffee shop that probably closely resembled one of the many others littering the block on Pearl Street.

"You seem like a guy that'd work at a coffee shop." I muse, easily able to imagine him with a small apron on, asking if I'd like my drink hot or iced.

"How so?" He grins, chuckling.

"I don't know," I giggle. "It's your vibe, probably also the slacks and the turtleneck."

"I can see that." He nods. "Coffee-house vibe is a good vibe."

"I agree."

We both laugh again then, before a petite girl dressed in leggings, a Downer t-shirt and a waitress apron approaches our table. The Downer doesn't always have wait staff serving, but some nights there are a few people who will run around taking orders so you don't have to wait in line at the bar. I order a tequila sunrise and Emerson opts for an IPA craft beer – another thing that matches his vibe nearly perfectly.

Once our drinks come, we're both laughing and talking easily with one another. Covering everything from the basics like our favorite colors to more exciting topics like whether or not ghosts exist; a subject we find ourselves on after he tells me his favorite channel on YouTube is Buzzfeed Unsolved. The hosts of that channel are his idols apparently, Ryan and Shane's commentary being his most favorite part of any of their videos.

"Shane cracks me up all the time," He laughs. "I mean he literally doesn't believe in any of the shit that Ryan does and that dynamic is just too good."

"I love when Ryan will say something spooky and Shane will just be like 'well that was the wind actually'." I agree, smiling, remembering the times that Justin, Andee and I would get stoned and binge watch the series until nearly 2 am.

The conversation flows between us, especially as a second round of drinks is ordered and brought to us. Suddenly, I am glad I decided to go out with him tonight, despite my hesitation before. This doesn't stop my mind from wandering though, Ryder's face continually popping up in my brain. The feel of his hands on my body and lips on mine engrained in my memory.

It's not just that either though, it's the fact that even if Emerson and I might talk easily, I still don't feel the way I do when I'm with Ryder. Emerson feels like a friend, and Ryder does too, there's just more to it there, a feeling I can't put into words when I'm with him.

Eventually Emerson and I decide to play darts, even though I already know I'm no good, he insists he can teach me. The bar becomes louder and more crowded as the night wears on, an old school hip hop song blasting from the jukebox next to us. I am finishing off my second drink, prepared to order another, when I find we're standing very close, one of Emerson's hands on my waist steadying me, while the other tries to help guide my own hand in tossing the dart towards the board.

"You gotta be firm but gentle." He muses, voice soft next to my ear and I nod, eyes narrowed at the dart board.

"Like this?"

I toss the dart once more, flicking my wrist like he showed me and it lands close to the bullseye.

"Yes, exactly!" He cheers. I spin in his arms, facing him while I smile brightly, excited that I finally actually got a dart to hit the board. I hug him first, laughing as his arms tighten around my waist, forgetting myself as the alcohol I've consumed goes to my head, and then pull back. He's grinning, brown eyes bright as he looks down at me and then he does something I'm not expecting.

It happens fast, he leans down, and I gasp when his lips meet mine. It's a simple kiss, sweet and chaste, but automatically feels wrong for some reason. I pull back instantly, my expression no doubt transparent.

"I-I'm sorry," He stutters, looking taken aback. "I just, I got carried away."

"It's okay." I shake my head, prying myself out of his arms. It's not totally out of left field, we'd been standing closer and closer all night, his hands brushing against mine. "I'm gonna get another drink, you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good for now." He shrugs, his expression slightly defeated. It's not him. It's not that I wouldn't be open to kissing him in this setting. And for once, it's not even the memory of Miles which stops me.

No . . . this time it's Ryder.

The thought almost makes me feel queasy as I push through the crowd towards the bar. It's not that I didn't expect this, I know I feel something different when I'm with Ryder, it's just I didn't expect this to happen so fast. To feel like kissing Emerson is somehow unfair to him.

I step up to the bar, ordering another tequila sunrise and then wait, enjoying the invisibility of the bustling crowd around me. Even a Wednesday night in Boulder gets busy.

Suddenly though I feel a hand on my shoulder, jostling me and I turn around, grinning when I see Justin's drunk smile greets me.

"Jordy!" He shrieks, pulling me into a hug.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, shouting slightly over the noise.

"Guys night out." He says, wiggling his eye brows and I giggle. His demeanor tells me he's already several shots deep. "What about you bitch? I didn't know you were gonna be here, you should have told me you were going out."

"I'm on a date." I tell him. "With Emerson."

Justin's eyes widen, his expression faltering as he suddenly frowns.

"What?" I ask instantly and he just shakes his head.

"Fucking damn it," He groans. "Ryder's here with me. Lars and I were taking him out to . . . uh, well, to help him get his mind off of you."

"Seriously?"

"What the hell did you expect? You had to know a dude like that wouldn't have been interested in you for so many years for no good reason." He scolds and I swallow hard. There it is again, the implication from one of Ryder's friends that he didn't just want to get in my pants, that maybe, even if he doesn't consciously know it, he wants more.

"Well, we're not dating, I'm allowed to go out with another guy." I protest and Justin shrugs.

"I'm not saying you're wrong, it's just kind-of funny we all ended up at the same bar."

I glance over Justin's shoulder then, feeling tension rise in my stomach when I see Emerson pushing towards us. I wave to him as he reaches us and Justin turns slightly, looking him up and down slowly.

"I thought you got lost." He jokes, shouting over the noise too and I just shake my head smiling.

"No, I ran into, uh" I gesture between the two guys. "Justin, this is Emerson. Emerson, this is Justin, one of my best friends."

"Nice to meet you officially." Emerson says, holding out a hand which Justin shakes.

"You too." He grins, then the bartender returns with my drink, which I take and sip gratefully. The awkward silence between all of us right now is deafening. Justin is clearly wavering between inviting us to hang out with them and just running off into the crowd, which would be the polite thing to do.

"Well, uh, you guys wanna join us for a quick game of pool?" Justin asks and I give him a pointed look, which he blatantly ignores. "We got a table over there."

He points across the bar from where we're standing and Emerson nods.

"Hell yeah dude," He agrees. "Though I gotta warn you, I'm pretty good."

"Uh huh, we'll see about that." Justin chuckles, leading the way through the crowd as I reluctantly follow along, Emerson's hand at my lower back as he walks behind me. I don't know what possessed Justin to extend the invitation, needless to say I'd be giving him a piece of my mind later.

This is the last thing I wanted to happen tonight.

We enter a dimly lit area, Lars and Andrew standing around the pool tables with a couple girls they must have met at the bar tonight. One is tall with short black hair, the other shorter, her brunette hair pulled up into a ponytail. I don't see Ryder at first, but then my eyes drift over to a corner near the pool table where he's standing with not one but two obvious sorority girls leaning against him.

He's dressed in dark clothing per the usual, though he's wearing his black and gold varsity jacket tonight, hair looking as curly as ever. I know what those girls see in him, I see it too, I mean, he looks almost too good – not to mention they probably already know he's the shining star of CU's basketball team.

Something flickers inside me when one of the short, platinum blonde girls runs her finger nails up and down his chest. The other, tall and stunningly thin, whispers something in his ear that makes him grin drunkenly. He hasn't seen me yet.

"Jourdan!" Lars cheers, grabbing me in a rough hug, obviously feeling the liquor himself. "And you must be . . . wait, who are you?" He grins at Emerson who laughs.

"Emerson." He offers and Lars smiles slyly at me, realizing exactly what's going on here.

"Oh, did Justin interrupt your date?" He asks us, but before we can respond Justin beats us to it.

"I did not interrupt," He protests, arms slung over both my shoulders and Emerson's as he leans in between us. "I just made their night a little more interesting."

"I mean, if you think it will be interesting when I kick your ass at pool, then yeah, this night is about to be more interesting." Emerson jokes good-naturedly and Lars laughs loudly.

"Damn, okay, yeah, let's get this game set up then." He agrees, moving around the table while I stand back.

"Will you be my moral support?" Emerson asks, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me against his side. Some small, childish part of me hopes Ryder looks up to see us, so I lean in, wrapping my free arm around his neck, while I continue to hold my drink in my other hand.

"Of course." I smile. "That's what I'm here for."

"This has been a great night so far." He comments and I nod, suddenly getting another horrible idea, and deciding to go with it. I reach my hand up, threading through the hair at the base of his neck as I pull him down slightly and he grins, leaning in too before our lips meet again.

This time I kiss him, determined to make it last as he returns the pressure. It's the kind-of drunk kiss I used to seek out, where I don't feel any attachment but still enjoy it. There's no spark for me, no rush that goes straight to my head, but I keep going anyway, only pulling back when I feel his arm tighten around me.

"Hm," He grins, eyes slightly glazed over now. "And the night keeps getting better."

I giggle, leaning against him again while I tip my glass back, taking a long sip of my drink, trying to wash away the memory of his lips. 

I am intoxicated,