Taking a drag from the lit cigarette, I breathe back out into the cool night. Soft rock from the ’90s flows from Metis’s old speakers in the back. She scrolls mindlessly through her Instagram, blue eyes glazed over from whatever stupidity she was looking at. Pale olive skin illuminated by the phone. Her eyes darken for a moment and she reaches over quickly to the ridiculously expensive wine she has in the front. Taking a swig she leans back and looks at me. “What about Mexico?”, she says. “To ghetto.”, I said. She made a noise and her brows became furrowed. 

We both want to leave but can’t. My “guardian” would send me away eagerly. I doubt Mei’s parents would notice. Mei doesn’t have any family, but that’s the only reason I’m staying. I can’t let my little sister, Bowie, be corrupted by her birth giver. I can tell Mei is about to enter a depressive state.

“Hey.”

Red-rimmed and teary eyes glance at me.

“Regret game?”

An affirmative sound.

“I regret not bringing a blanket.” I laugh forcefully.

I wait for a heartbeat. “I regret…”, she crackles, “Not…..talking tooo...Meg.”

“Mmmm.” Ah. The gorgeous red-headed bombshell Mei’s had a crush on since second grade. “I regret not taking those tickets from Vic and Phil.”

“That’s not your fault.”

I don’t say anything and take another drag.

“Fine. If we’re doing that. I regret not sticking up for you.”

“You’re a twig you would have been snapped.”

“They’re racist and you don’t deserve it.”

“I kinda do sometimes.”

“Not for being you.” She takes a swig.

My brain falls into a dark routine I’m much too familiar with. Worthless. Whore. Homo. Weirdo. Should-have-been-abortion. Wanna-be-boy. Out of habit, I scratch at my wrist scars.

“-Hey? Cammi? Hey, can you hear me?” Metis applies pressure to my back and I realize I’m hunched over, and breathing heavily. I glance at the clock. 2 am. 

“Hey….Can I drive?”

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Sitting on top of Meg's car I slurp at my cherry-flavored slushie. Hearing light laughter, I turn. Her curly red hair is tied messily up and stuffed behind a striped red and orange headband. “Why are you on top of my car?”, she giggles. I shrug. Brown eyes scan me, a sadness fills them. “Hey, you okay?” A simple question. But it makes me want to cry. Seeing my tears she climbs to the roof quickly. “I’m fine! Just sleep deprivation. You know?”, rushed sentences I use to try and hide the dark thoughts.

“It’s ok! You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.” She reaches over giving me a hug. This is her attempt at comforting me. It works. 

“I-I know! I don’t know why I’m crying.” I sob. The crunch of a car rolling up behind us falls on deaf ears. “You two are gonna freeze out here.”, a deep unfamiliar voice. A guy. A wave of panic. “They’re safe.”, a whisper. Despite this, I’m still tense. Meg slides off of the car.

“Hi! You’re Cameron from school right?” Meg's voice is filled with sugar, and I can’t tell if it’s false. “Yeah, what are you doing out so late Meg?” I can see them now. They have smooth tan skin, piercing cherry-colored eyes, short shaggy brown hair stuffed beneath a slack beanie. They're gorgeous. They glance over at me. I can feel my face burn despite the cold.

My slushie decides that now is the best time to blow away. It falls with a small splat. The guy-Cameron?- stifled a laugh. I shot her a look. “Sorry. Who is you?”, they question. I blink. Who is you? I don’t think that’s right. “I-uh-Teagan. My name is Teagan.”, I muttered.

“Well, Teagan would you like another slushie?”

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