How Curiosity Killed the Cat and the Ghost Was Brought Back

No Hard Feelings

The next moments were a blur. Kat blinked in and out of reality until she was suddenly back on the first floor, almost collapsing at the end of the stairs. She gasped for air. It was difficult to breathe through the tightness in her chest.

"Let's get out of here." She didn't have to look at him to know he was there. Zach's presence was familiar enough for her to immediately place her trust in his steady hands. She let him guide her by the shoulders, taking her to the exit.

Kat stumbled across the docks. She could've easily tumbled down into the water if it hadn't been for Zach's support- both literally and emotionally. She still hadn't seized the opportunity to try a single sip of alcohol, yet her footsteps were just about as sporadic as every other drunken teenager in the surrounding area. It was a good thing the party was full with enough alcohol-induced antics for her to blend in.

Kat's head turned at the sight of every blonde head that just so happened to pass by. They all looked like Amber. She didn't know why, but she couldn't shake the image of her horrified face staring back at her. It wasn't like Amber to avoid jumping on the defense. She was more of the type to actively search for opportunities to fight out obvious insecurities. For the first time, Kat was worried for her.

They stopped walking near the end of a pier, one that happened to be void of party goers. It was just far enough from the main festivities for the music to not strain the ears. The strongest sound came from the harbor, the sound of water gently lapping against the beams of the pier. It helped to clear the mind, and allowed you to sort through your thoughts without feeling alone with them.

Zach helped Kat lower herself slowly onto a deck chair. "Are you okay?" he asked. Kat could read in between the lines. Zach was hesitating to refer back to what they had both just witnessed, uncertain if it was too soon. His eyes held regret, maybe partial responsibility for forcing Kat into the situation in the first place.

Kat's words weren't quite syncing up with her head. In response to Zach, she wanted to say "not exactly," but instead she skipped ahead to the next thought. "I should talk to her. . ."

"Amber?" Zach said with a look of surprise that increased when Kat nodded. "I-I don't know where she is," he stammered, ". . . are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No," Kat heaved a sigh and planted her face in her palms, "but I need to try. . . it just feels like something I need to do. I need to make this right."

"None of that was your fault," Zach pointed out. He moved his hand against her upper back in soothing circles. "It was just some bad luck. . . and assholes being assholes."

Kat knew logically that she carried no responsibility for how it happened. She wasn't the one who suggested spin the bottle. She didn't want to play it to begin with. She wasn't the girl who decided to throw out the word "lesbian" at the worst possible moment. She had never been Amber's friend. If the roles were reversed, Amber wouldn't have hesitated for even a millisecond to be the accuser. . . but that's not what happened. This wasn't just a passive, snooty remark or a petty trick, someone had actually gotten hurt.

With her eyes closed and face still buried in her hands, Kat could hear Zach absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the armrest of the chair. They were both stuck at a party that they couldn't leave or let themselves enjoy. At the very least, they were alone in it together.

"Vic," Zach called out. He tapped Kat's arm, and she looked up with a sniff.

Vic stood a few yards away, at the center pier that led to the front of the houseboat, carrying a six pack. He stood still for a second with his shoulders stiff, like he was considering continuing down the pier and pretending like he hadn't heard his name. He had failed to stay out of sight, leaving him with no choice but to approach them.