Lighthouse Lullaby | ✓

Part 17 | Thursday, 1st October

I turn when I hear the sound of a pair of sneakers crunching against the lighthouse's old staircase. Dylan Frost emerges, blinking as the wind sweeps his hair into his face.

"Hey," I say to him as he approaches me warily.

"Hey," he replies, sitting beside me in front of the railing.

Neither of us speaks. I watch as the beam of the lighthouse circles overhead every few seconds. Dylan's gaze pelts bullets into my skin; I can feel it without having to look at him.

"Ever since . . . you know," I begin with a heavy sigh. "I can't sleep. But when you and I started listening to music together again, I slept so much better."

I feel Dylan's fingers reach for mine. He opens my palm and places something on it. With my eyes still closed, I trace my fingers over the blue tape wound around the splitter.

"Ambrosia."

I open my eyes. "Yeah?"

His voice is low and gravelly when he says, "Do you remember what we promised her?"

My teeth grind together with so much force that it hurts.

"I'm too scared that I'll forget her," he continues. "Everything is starting to fade. But you're too scared to remember. Don't be."

The memories are threatening to spill out of the sealed box inside my head.

"Remember her, Ambrosia," Dylan begs. "With me."

His eyes — full of hurt and longing — are the triggers that set the reminders free. A strangled sob escapes my lips as every memory of Stacey Frost resurfaces. From the first day of our friendship to the very last. The words, laughter, and songs are painful and beautiful, all at once.

When we were sophomores, I didn't know Dylan Frost very well. We had a few classes together, but we didn't talk much. He'd smile at me sometimes, and it was always a smile (sweet, honest and open) that made me want to know him better. I was just too shy to do anything about it. So, when I was assigned as his partner for a science project, I suddenly felt a newfound affection and gratitude towards the subject and the teacher.

Dylan and I had agreed to meet at his house on a Friday evening. I sat down on a white chair near his desk while he went downstairs to get us some soda. My eyes were fixed on my phone as I searched my music list for a good song to play as we worked on the project.

"Those songs are all right, but they aren't the best," a female voice sounded from right behind me.

"Shit!" I jumped a mile, dropping my books and pens to the carpeted floor.

"Whoa, sorry," she laughed, holding her pale hands up in surrender.

That was the first time I officially met Stacey Frost. A senior at my school, she was infinitely cooler than me.

"Hi," I said, smiling nervously. "I'm Amber."

"Hi," she grinned, running a hand through her short hair, dyed in a daring shade of red. "I'm Stacey."

"I see you've met my sister," Dylan said, appearing at the doorway with sodas in hand.

"Older and cooler sister," she corrected, winking at me. "So, Amber, would you like to know what the best music in the world sounds like?"

She posed that question as though it were a coveted invite to a secret cult. I didn't hesitate to accept.

"Great! I'll introduce you to The Top Five first," she beamed, scrunching her small, rounded nose.