The ocean glittered under the last stretch of sun, throwing liquid gold across the white expanse of Dina’s family yacht. The air smelled like salt and money, but also faintly of smoke from the joint Willow had put out in the crystal ashtray between them.

They lounged side by side in silk robes, legs tangled like it was second nature, each cradling a half-finished glass of wine. Dina’s hair caught the wind, a messy halo against the backdrop of sea and sky, and Willow couldn’t stop staring.

“Everyone at school thinks we’re untouchable,” Willow murmured, her lips stained dark red from the wine. She leaned back, letting the robe slip off one shoulder, careless and deliberate all at once.

Dina smirked, tilting her glass. “That’s because we are.” She clinked the rim against Willow’s before taking a long sip, eyes never leaving hers. “They don’t know half the shit we’ve done.”

“They don’t know we’re in love,” Willow said, her voice soft, as if confessing to the waves instead of Dina.

Willow traced the edge of Dina’s jaw with her fingertip, nails painted a careless shade of black that was already chipped. “We’re a little fucked up, you know,” she said with a crooked grin. “Wine for dinner, pills for dessert.”