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I could hear the music from the street as I stood in front of the townhouse—because if it wasn't an apartment in London, it was normally a townhouse.

Staring at the building and the people dancing in the window, I felt my throat tighten. But knowing I wanted to go back home as the girl Rowan regrets dumping, I took a deep breath and walked into the house.

The music was beyond loud inside, and I could barely hear the people. Faces I had never seen before swarmed each room as I weaved my way through the crowd, searching for Jasper.

Thanks to his growth spurt though, I saw his head poking out above the masses in the kitchen. So I beelined towards it.

"Hey," I breathed when I finally reached him.

Eyes wide, he turned to look at me and exclaimed, "Zara! You actually came."

"You did invite me..." I trailed off, feeling the nervous pit stir in my stomach.

"I did. I'm glad you're here," he replied, a grin taking hold of his face. Yet as I watched his face contort into a friendly expression, I couldn't help but notice that his smile had changed. The Jasper I knew, while ashamed of his grin, smiled so wide that his eyes scrunched up so tight you could barely see the irises anymore. This guy's smile was cocky, wide, charismatic, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Here," he then said, handing me a cup, "Drink."

Alarmed, I began to say, "I don't—"

But he cut me off with a, "Just drink it, Zara."

Not wanting to disappoint him, and with Rowan's jeers about my lack of partying echoing in my ears, I downed the drink in one gulp.

"Yes! Good work. Have another." He already had the next drink ready. And so I downed that one.

Head already starting to get a little fuzzy, Jasper placed a hand on my back and guided me back into the masses, introducing me to this person and that person who I apparently used to go to school with. Then at some point as this stranger who I didn't remember was mid-sentence, I looked to Jasper only to find he had disappeared.

"Sorry," I interrupted him, "But I need to go to the bathroom." Finding every gap I could in the crowd, I squeezed my way back through until I was standing in the kitchen.

Glancing over the dancing people, I tried to spot his black hair and obsidian eyes, but came out short. So I headed back into the crowd and back into the hallway.

But again, he was nowhere to be seen.

Following the hallway down, I reached the door to the back yard and peered through the small window framed in the door. Then I spotted him. Sitting with his back turned to me, Jasper brought his drink to his mouth sporadically to sip his beer. Even from this distance, I noticed the slight swap and fumbliness to his movements. He was plastered.

Creaking the door open, I softly walked across the patio, rubbing my arms for warmth. However the alcohol still in my system prohibited me from feeling the cold too much.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked him.

Head snapping up, he looked at me with fear and tears in his eyes. Then he wiped the residue of wetness from his cheeks as he looked away. "Just getting some fresh air," he said, voice a little croaky.

Hesitantly, I took the seat next to him on the steps. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Just have something in my eye is all."

I studied him as he brought his beer back to his mouth and finished it in one gulp, before I said, "I'm always here if you need someone to talk to."

"I'm sure you are, Zara," he muttered under his breath and looked away for a moment, hiding his face. I heard him take a deep breath before he turned back to face me, that same fake smile from before masking his true emotions. "Thanks for coming out, Zara. It's been great to catch up."

"I mean... we haven't really spoken much all evening."

Shrugging, he replied, "What's there to catch up on? It's all about living in the moment." But the Jasper I left behind loved skipping small talk, preferring to get into deep arguments about memories, politics, or comic books. Each day we'd meet in the morning before school, he'd insist we narrate every detail of our lives that happened since we bid each other goodbye the day before.

"You've changed a lot," I couldn't help let slip out of my mouth.

The smile fell from his face but he didn't look at me. "Many years have passed since you disappeared, Zara."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I did write... but obviously that didn't get through."

He warily glanced my way then shrugged. "You look nice tonight," he then said, changing the topic.

"One of the only outfits I have that is suitable for this weather and not my mum's," I laughed in response. "You've... You've become quite the handsome man, Jas," I stuttered. It was meant to sound nonchalant, cool, like an off-hand comment, but the increasing speed of my heart and flushing of my cheeks had me fumbling over them as they exited my mouth.

Eyebrow raised and a smug grin taking hold of his face, he looked at me with a concoction of emotions swirling in his eyes. "Oh Zara," he tutted. "Don't go falling for me now."

With a roll of my eyes, I replied, "Highly unlikely." My heart is still getting over the last guy, I then thought.

I watched a flicker of annoyance flash through his eyes, but the charismatic flare quickly came back just before his hand extended across the space between us, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. I felt my throat grow tight as I watched his gaze trail over my face until it fixated on my mouth.

Then all at once, he started to slowly lean closer, fingers still gently trailing across my cheek and down my jaw.

And so I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment my once-best-friend, now turned handsome pressed his lips to mine.

But as his breath tickled my mouth he chuckled. Hand dropping from my face, I opened my eyes to watch him lean back, a sadistic gleam to his eyes.

"You don't actually think I would kiss you, do you?" he jeered.

I felt my stomach sink as his eyes venomously glared at me.

When I didn't say anything, he then spat, "You're just an ugly, fat, dork. And you should leave. Because you don't fit in here."

Feeling the tears begin to well in my eyes, I immediately stood up and searched his face a moment longer. But he was no longer looking at me. His gaze had returned to the garden, that dead look reappearing in his eyes as he stared into the darkness.

When the tears finally escaped my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks, I headed back into the house, weaved my way through the people, and made my way back my dad's home an hour earlier than my curfew, feeling like an absolute idiot.