You and Aubrie had always existed on opposite ends of everything. She was noise, movement, heat, the kind of person who made an entrance without trying. You were control. Clean lines, quiet confidence, the soft clink of glass, everything deliberate and curated. And yet, somehow, neither of you ever quite existed without the other in the same space.

It wasn’t something either of you talked about. It lived in the pauses. In the way your eyes lingered a second too long. In the way she always seemed to end up near you, like gravity had a preference.

The pool party was loud. Music spilling out of blown speakers, laughter bouncing off water, sunlight reflecting in blinding flashes across the surface. It was the kind of chaos Aubrie thrived in.

And she did.

She was everywhere at once. Diving, splashing, dragging people into the deep end whether they wanted it or not. Her laugh cut through everything, bright, reckless, impossible to ignore. People gravitated toward her without thinking, pulled in by the sheer force of her energy.

You stayed at the edge of it all. Reclined on a chaise lounge, sunglasses shielding your eyes, one leg crossed neatly over the other. Your skin was warm under the sun, your drink sweating in your hand, condensation slipping slowly between your fingers. A few girls beside you whispered and giggled, their attention fixed on the boys in the pool. Commenting on shoulders, on abs, on the way water clung to skin.

You hummed at the right moments. Nodded when expected. But your attention drifted. It always did. Because no matter how hard you tried to stay detached, your gaze kept finding her.

Aubrie.

She hauled herself out of the pool in one smooth motion, water cascading down her body, catching in the dip of her collarbone, trailing along the sharp lines of muscle built from years of surfing. Her dirty blonde hair clung to her neck before she shoved it back, sending droplets scattering.

She looked alive in a way that made everything else feel . . . staged. Like you. Your lips curved before you could stop them. You hated that. Hated how easily she got under your skin, like she knew exactly where to press without ever being told.

Her head turned, like she felt it. Of course she did. Her grin hit instantly. Wide, a little too knowing. And just like that, she was moving toward you, all confidence, leaving a trail of noise behind her.