Why did actions have consequences?

To keep people from doing stupid things.

Why did people do stupid things anyway?

No. fucking. clue.

In this scenario, I was 'people'.

About 50 missed calls and unanswered texts littered my phone. All from Colton. There were voicemails, all of that. All that I was never going to answer.

Because I felt guilt. I didn't care that the kiss was one of the most joyful moments of my life, or whatever he was thinking or feeling.

I didn't want any of that. I just wanted to run away.

I needed a distraction. Fast. And luckily, Anthony's face-call ID started to ring into the atmosphere. Thank god for Facetime. Thank god for Anthony.

"Congrats on the win," he started when I picked up.

"What win?" I grinned, confused. I was smiling,but felt the exact opposite of the feeling. All I wanted to do was bury myself in my blankets out of despair.

"Melbourne vs. Magruder! Heard you guys won? Shit got crazy though, I saw it on a couple of people's stories-- you okay?"

No. "Yeah! I'm great, just.. living. It's fucking lacrosse anyways, why should I even care?"

"Damn! Where's the school spirit at?"

"Nonexistent. And that's shocking to hear you of all people advocating for school spirit. Mr. I go to An Arts School," I joked.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, love."

There was a comfortable silence.

"Hey, so fun question time -- what are you doing right now?" he asked.

I looked around my room, to the pint of ice-cream and then the sprawled out papers surrounding me on my bed that were all SAT practice questions. "Having the time of my life studying for the SAT!" I deadpanned.

"Welllll I do happen to be on Maplebury right now and--"

"Wha-How did you get my address?"

"Uh you gave it to me, remember? When I drove you home after the rooftop party?"

Shit. I had totally forgotten about that. I was drunk out of my mind that night and not thinking clearly.

I smiled, intrigued. "Okaaay. Continue."

"Well, I also happen to have a 60 percent off discount at the thrift--now before you say anything no, not Goodwill,"

I snickered. Fuck Goodwill. "What are we working with?"

"VALUE VILLAGE BABYYY!" He whooped. I laughed along with him. "Now hurry up and put on some clothes. I'm outside."

. . .

Value Village was a 45 minute drive from my house in Melbourne. It was all the way out in southeast D.C and so the drive was long and when I entered the car I was shocked to already see a girl in the passenger seat-- the girl who i had met in the bathroom at the rooftop party. Turns out her name was Adrianna, and she was the sound-girl for SIN, Anthony's band.

We hit it off immediately, bonding over her impressive yet questionably moral hobbies. In most of her free time she scammed men, went to concerts, and made music. She was in her second year at college and went to American University, contemplating taking a gap year.

It wasn't long before we were at the thrift store, raiding the men's section for stylish sweaters to battle the east coast's harsh, winter cold.

"Uh oh. Psst don't look now but reseller alert on your left," a voice whispered to me quietly. Adrianna.

I smirked to myself and took a peak over the racks of clothes and saw some girl decked out in SHEIN shopping in the baby aisle, grabbing entire sections of graphic baby tees and dumping them into her cart.

"No ethical consumption under capitalism," Anthony, who came out of nowhere, chimed in.

"Oh shut the fuck up," Adrianna rolled her eyes as we maneuvered out of the section and into the men's to find more sweaters. "There's ethical consumption and then there's...whatever that is."

Adrianna nodded her head back over to the girl, who had so much stuff in her cart that even she was having trouble pushing it.

"We should probably go before she gets to the shoes section," I commented, watching her forreal take half the clothes off the kids rack.

Jesus. What about the kids who actually needed warm clothes to wear for the winter?

"Dios mío...Yeah, give her thirty seconds in there and she'll own half of DC's shoes," Adriana scoffed.

"Adrianna, Por favor, sé amable hoy. No quiero que ella piense mal de mí," Anthony whisper-hushed Adrianna.

He didn't think I could hear it, but I did. Yeah, maybe I didn't know what the fuck it meant, but I definitely did hear it.

"Fine. I'll leave you two alone," she wiggled her eyebrows, grinning, then pushed the cart away.

I felt a smile or a blush rush onto my face and so desperately tried to bring it back down.

I enjoyed Anthony's company as a friend, so I didn't know why I was blushing.

"Hey so uh wanna try shit on at the fitting rooms?" he suggested after the slightly awkward silence passed.

"Yeah! I might head to the bathroom too for a sec, if that's cool?" The real reason I wanted to head to the bathroom? To cry. Even though I was having a blast with Anthony and Adrianna, I still felt an inescapable feeling of guilt stationed in my body that so desperately made me want to abandon everything and run away just to bawl.

"Ooh. Don't use the bathrooms here unless you want hepatitis B," he warned. (Joking, I think)

I snickered with a sigh. "With the way this week has been going I'll take my chances."

There was silence and I looked over at him, expecting him to laugh. Even though there was a small smile on his face, he was still looking to the ground and his eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly.

"That was a joke," I added, just to clarify.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm not dumb. I just- Sounded like there was some truth to that statement?"

We were finally at the dressing rooms and surprisingly, they were very secluded from the rest of the public store.

I didn't know how to answer his question. But luckily, suddenly, he turned to me with eyes full of curiosity.

"Hey look I don't mean to psycho-analyze, but you've been kinda off lately," Anthony suddenly admitted. He had noticed?

I looked up at him, wondering if I should just let it loose. Let it all loose. Break down, and allow him to see just what sorrows and turmoil I was masking under cheap thrills.

But no. I couldn't do that. Not yet, at least.

"I did something really shitty that I'm not sure I can come back from," I decided.

There was a pause. A silence. But it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable; it was raw. Real.

"I get that," he nodded solemnly. For some reason, I could see in his deep brown eyes that he actually did. It made me wonder just what secrets Anthony Miller was hiding.

He took a seat on the rusty bench and I followed. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but what happened exactly?"

I sighed, thinking about it. I couldn't exactly say I kissed my best friend, who was dating Brooke Mckailey because then I would probably lose the one and only other friends I was making outside of Melbourne/Colton. Plus he knew Brooke, and knew how much of a goddamn sweetheart she was and so I'd really be the fucking devil in his eyes. I didn't want to be perceived as that.

Not to him.

"I just... I hurt someone. Really bad. Someone who didn't deserve it and I'm currently feeling the repercussions of my actions. I wasn't thinking when I did what I did and now a lot of people are going to get hurt just cause I was a complete dumbass."

"People make mistakes," he shrugged.

I shook my head, feeling tears prick the back of my eyes. "Not as stupid as this one."

"Hey. Look at me," he searched for my eyes. When I met his brown-eyed gaze, a feeling of comfort washed over me. "You can't wallow in self despair forever. And no, that doesn't mean to skip over the shitty emotions and start looking for the next best thing. It means allowing time for you to self reflect and heal. To think about not just what you fucked up, but what you can do to be better. Be better, and that in itself will show growth from the situation, and might even help you get over it."

I stopped to really soak it all in. "Wow. Thank you. Really."

"And hey listen if you ever need an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on, I'm here," he offered.

I smiled ruefully. Thankful.

I could feel the warm tears rushing down my face and I desperately moved to wipe them away, as I didn't want him to see me crying. I needed to change the topic fast before I became a human water dispenser.

"Relax, Anthony, no need to get all mushy on me," I joked sarcastically, flipping around the conversation.

"Oh! I apologize for being a good fr-" He stopped himself. Then looked into my eyes, questioning, "Friend?"

I sniffled then grinned, "Friend."

I could see him try to hide a smile creeping onto his face, and he looked away, shaking his head.

"You can call me Tony, by the way," he told me.

I nodded before I stopped dead in my tracks as I laid my eyes on the most beautiful jacket I had ever seen. It was hanging from a coat rack, in the 'returned' section and it made me almost appalled thinking about who would return such a beauty.

It was a denim Yohji leather jacket customized with rhinestones and frayed sleeves. I quickly got up to grab the jacket and tried it on, Anthony following after me.

"Holy shit this jacket is gorgeous," I admired in the mirror. I quickly threw it off to check the price tag and my face faltered. "Fuck. 70 bucks?"

"Jesus christ, are you serious?" Anthony gawked, pulling the jacket out of my hands.

"Makes sense, I guess. It's vintage 1988. One of a kind."

"I refuse to believe this. A year ago this would be 20 bucks top but now it's a leg and arm since the fuckin Emily resellers of the world have decided to raid DC."

"Oh really? What happened to no ethical consumption?" I teased.

He shoved me with a badly concealed smile, "Shut up."

A few seconds passed and he scoured the area, making sure no one was around before stuffing the jacket into his backpack.

"Anthony?!" I gasped. This was new.

"Fuck this store. And fuck Emily," he whispered, throwing his backpack over his shoulder with the stolen contraband in it. "Think of it as a birthday gift," he winked, heading out.

I shook my head, holding back a laugh.

This was bad. But also...good?

It was refreshing. And a beautiful reminder that not everything revolved around Colton Whitman.

Things could be good without Colton Whitman.