The music’s louder than it needs to be, the kind that rattles inside your chest even from the dock. You sit cross-legged on the wooden planks, toes dipping into the water, half-watching the ripples and half-waiting for something to pull you back into the chaos.

You hear her footsteps before you see her. Bare feet. Rings clinking as she shoves her hands into the pockets of someone’s hoodie probably stolen.

Then: “So this is where you disappeared to.”

You glance over your shoulder. “Wasn’t hiding.”

Sarah shrugs, dropping down beside you like she was always meant to fill the space. “Didn’t say you were. Just noticed.”

There’s a beat of quiet. The music feels far away now. She leans back on her hands, squinting out at the dark water.

“Parties are more fun when you’re there,” she says.

You snort. “Liar.”

She grins sideways. “Okay, yeah. They still suck. But you make them suck less.”

You both smile, but there’s something slower about hers. She’s quiet for a second, then nudges you with her knee.

Then, softly: “You could’ve just asked me to come with you.”

You turn to look at her. She’s already watching you. “I didn’t know if you’d want to.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no bite to it. “I wouldn’t have come out here if I didn’t want to. You think I sit in the dark with just anyone?”

You smile. “I mean… people do gravitate towards you.”

“Yeah,” she says, brushing your hair off your shoulder. “But I only stay when it’s worth it.”

The moments stretches in the silence, then she speaks again.

“Don’t disappear without me next time.”