Who Are Your Friends?

I Know What You Did Last Summer: Part II

"How are you?" Adam asks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I'm okay. How are you?" I reply, trying to sound casual, even though his presence is anything but.

"Super," he says, stepping closer to the bar to pour himself a drink. The air between us seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken tension.

"I hate to sound like a b***h, but... what are you doing here?" I ask, keeping my tone light but laced with curiosity.

"Parker asked me to come," he says casually. "In case you guys needed a sober driver. I got off work early, so I figured I’d help out."

Of course, Parker. Always the thoughtful one, planning ahead, making sure everything is in order.

"Oh," I say, trying to sound nonchalant. "That makes sense." But I can’t help but steal a glance at Adam. His shoulders are broader, his posture more confident, and there’s a calmness about him that’s always been there. He’s undeniably handsome – the kind that makes you do a double-take. And now, here he is, standing way too close in the kitchen.

"You look nice," he says, his voice carrying that familiar warmth that’s hard to resist.

"Wow, thanks," I manage, my heart doing an awkward flip. "You too."

The tension between us is electric, palpable. It’s the kind of tension that leaves a trail of heat in its wake, making it impossible to focus on anything but the fact that we’re alone in this room, with everything unsaid hanging in the air.

"So, how’s the party?" he asks, as if desperate to pull us back to safer ground.

"It’s fine," I say, glancing out toward the crowd. "I just got here anyway. James and Aspen are... somewhere out there."

"You needed a break from all the noise?" His eyes flick down to my hand, still gripping the solo cup a little too tightly. He’s always been good at noticing the little things and reading the signs I try to hide. It’s unnerving how well he knows me.

Before I can respond, Parker comes up behind me, resting his hand on the small of my back and nipping my ear with his teeth. He smells overwhelmingly male, like freshly cut grass mixed with expensive French deodorant. I blush and turn around to face him. He doesn’t notice the shift in the room, the way the air suddenly feels both lighter and heavier at once.

“Hi, you. I was looking for you,” I say, and he kisses my lips sweetly like he always does.

“Congrats, you found me,” he says, grinning.

Parker’s attention shifts to Adam, still smiling. "Cool, you made it, man. Thanks for offering to drive, just in case."

"You're my only brother. I couldn't let you die," Adam replies smoothly, but his eyes linger on me for just a second longer than necessary before he turns back to Parker. "If you're gonna die, it’s because I want the inheritance all to myself."

I chuckle, so does Parker. Adam claps Parker on the shoulder. "I'll be in the car – gotta get some work done."

"What? No. Party!" Parker insists. "You turned 28, and suddenly you're too cool to party?"

"Too cool to party with 19-year-olds? Yeah, actually."

"Oh, wow," I say, pretending to be offended.

Parker laughs and pulls me closer. "Come on, let's go find James and Aspen."

As we move through the crowd, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and I feel Adam's presence linger in the back of my mind, like a shadow I can’t shake. Parker wraps an arm around my waist, guiding me through the party, but my thoughts are still tangled with Adam – with what we didn’t say, and what we wanted to.

Aspen and James are sitting on a pale orange couch, James’ head resting on her lap. Parker and I move toward them, but now I’m leading, as Parker stumbles with slurred steps. We sit down beside them, and Parker says something dumb and poetic. My mind doesn’t even fully register it.

I haven’t even put my drink down when Parker starts to kiss my collarbone and moves his hands along my thigh and then under my pants, dangerously close to my underwear. His palms are soft and big, it turns me on for a second. But then it very quickly doesn't. I pull away long enough to say, “Not right here, in the middle of everyone.”

“His hands roam, now grazing over my stomach, his finger brushing my n****e. He cups my cheek with his other hand, signaling me to set my cup down. I turn toward him, and we kiss—hungry, horny, with a little bit of love and very little respect. Just the way we like it.

“Ugh, get a room!” Aspen appears next to me, making a face. “You two are perverts.”

Parker groans, irritated. “This is a room.” He gestures around.

"He has a point," James adds.

“Do you want to get off my lap?” Aspen asks.

“No,” James says, snuggling back into her lap. “You’re right, they’re wrong. Get a room, you guys.”

“We can’t help it, we’re in love,” I tease.

“My f*****g point exactly," Parker. He shrugs and picks up my cup, taking a big swig. Now there’s only a half inch of liquor in my cup and I stare at it, frowning.

Parker notices. “I'll get you a topper.”

“Thanks, baby,” I say, kissing him lightly before he lurches away.

“Your boyfriend’s an i***t,” James jokes once Parker’s out of earshot.

“A cute i***t,” Aspen corrects him before I can.

“That’s like saying ‘a cute obese person.’ Doesn’t exist,” James says.

“You can’t say that,” Aspen gasps.

James laughs, and I laugh because he’s laughing.

“Why not?” James asks, grinning.

“It’s politically incorrect,” I tease.

This cracks me up and James and I laugh over it. I start to feel better, and more comfortable.

Parker returns with the same cup, but now he's switched out the gin for vodka. The vodka fills my head with warmth. More people are arriving all the time and the room seems to be revolving just a little bit. It’s a nice feeling, though, like being on a really slow carousel.

Half an hour later, the dancing, and the liquor, and the premarital s*x start to die down. The three of us—James, Aspen, and me—sit outside on the steps, talking about everything and nothing all at once outside. The night stretches out around us, the kind of quiet that’s not really quiet at all—just filled with the hum of too many things going on around us - but we're somehow still always at the center of it all. We sit on the steps, watching Parker stumble back inside for another drink, and I can’t help but notice the look Aspen shoots him. She’s been doing that a lot lately, though she never says anything outright. I think she feels like she’s always holding her breath around him—but I can't tell if it's a weird sort of admiration, or like the rest of us are just waiting for the moment when Parker finally falls apart completely.

James leans back on his elbows, staring at the stars, like the whole night’s some big joke to him. “Anyone else feel like this semester’s going to kill them?” he asks, though his voice is light.

Aspen smiles faintly, but it’s not the kind of smile that reaches her eyes. “If it doesn’t, sophomore year will.” She flicks the bud of her cigarette onto the ground, her gaze flicking to me for a second before looking away.

Parker comes stumbling back, this time with a full drink in his hand. He plops down next to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, and the smell of alcohol clings to him like smoke. Aspen’s eyes flicker over us, lingering just long enough to make me feel exposed.

“You guys are lucky,” she says suddenly, her voice quieter now, but edged with something sharp. “At least you two have each other.”

I freeze at her words, my stomach twisting. There’s something beneath them—a bitterness, an envy she doesn’t even try to hide anymore. And for a moment, I want to tell her she’s wrong. That things between Parker and me aren’t as perfect as they seem. That I'm the last person she should be envying - especially after last summer.

But instead, I just nod, because what would I even say? I can’t tell her about what happened, not now, not ever. And Parker, oblivious as ever, just pulls me in closer, pressing a sloppy kiss to my temple. “We’re gonna be fine,” he mutters, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

James lets out a laugh, harsh and hollow. “Yeah, sure. We’ll all be fine. Except me—I barely managed to get to this year.” He doesn’t sound like he cares, but I know better. Even though he kind of feels like the glue that holds us all together, James has been circling the drain all summer, not saying much, but just enough for us to see how close he’s getting to crashing. I want to tell him he’ll be fine, too, but even I don’t believe it anymore... and quite frankly, I have more things to care about.

Aspen rolls her eyes. “You’re here now. You always pull something out of your ass at the last second.” There’s an edge to her words, though, like she’s tired of saving him, tired of pretending things will just work out because they always have before. But she doesn't push it. None of us do anymore.

Parker, oblivious to the tension around him, drains his drink and then grabs mine. “Here,” he says, taking a big swig before I can stop him. “This’ll fix it.”

I watch him down the last of it, and for a split second, I think about the conversation we had just a few days ago—about him going to rehab, getting help. He said he’d think about it. That was before he got drunk tonight.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the empty cup back. There’s barely any point in getting upset now, not when it’s just the way things are. Aspen looks like she’s about to say something, maybe a comment about him needing to get his s**t together, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sighs, rubbing her temples like she’s too tired to care anymore, and putting down her last cigarette of the night.

Parker pulls out his phone, fumbling with it as he tries to type. “Adam’s here,” he says, like it’s some big revelation. “He’s been waiting in the car this whole time. I’ll get him to drive you home, Pel.” His words slur together, casual, like he hasn’t just punched me in the gut with his obliviousness.

My heart skips a beat. Aspen’s eyes dart toward me, then back down to the ground.

Parker stumbles down the driveway, laughing at something James said, but I don’t hear him. I’m too focused on Adam’s name, on the fact that in a few moments, I’ll be trapped in a car with him, forced to confront what we did. What we *didn’t* tell Parker.

Aspen watches him go, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you deal with him,” she mutters. “Sometimes, I think you’re the only reason he’s still holding on.” There’s no bitterness in her voice this time, just exhaustion.

I don’t know what to say. I’m the reason Parker’s still holding on? Maybe. But I’m also the reason he’s hanging by a thread, whether he knows it or not.

When Parker returns, Adam’s right behind him. He steps out of the car, his presence casting a shadow over everything. I can feel the heat of his gaze before I even look up. Parker throws an arm around him, laughing. “Pel needs a ride home, man,” he says, his words slurring together. “You got her, right?”

Adam’s eyes meet mine, and for a second, the whole world feels like it’s about to implode. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I got her.”

The words hang between us like a loaded gun. Aspen shifts beside me, clearly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t say anything. James doesn’t even look up from his phone.

Parker pulls me in for one last sloppy kiss, oblivious to the storm brewing around him. “See you tomorrow, baby.”

I nod, forcing a smile, but my stomach is in knots. As I follow Adam to the car, my pulse quickens, each step feeling heavier than the last.

He doesn’t start the engine right away. Instead, he turns to me, his gaze heavy, unreadable. “We need to talk,” he says, his voice low and careful, like he’s afraid the wrong word might shatter us both.

My throat tightens. “Now?”

He hesitates, his jaw clenching for half a second before softening again. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Now.”

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, wrapping around us like a warning. My pulse thrums in my ears as I brace myself. Seeing him still feels like a punch to the chest, sharp and unavoidable. I know whatever comes next will pull at the seams of everything we’ve been trying to hold together.

And I’m not sure I’ll survive watching it fall apart.