Olivia

I step outside, the sun already beating down on the patio as I slide the chairs from atop the tables. The sun is sparkling on the vibrant blue water today. There are already a few boats out and some locals enjoying a morning walk. There's also a few vacationers setting up camp for the day. Towels laid out, umbrellas propped up with coolers underneath.

We weren't always a tourist destination. Our small lake town is the in-between town. People drive through to take in the pretty scenery on their way to the large lake a few towns over. It doesn't snow as much here either. At least not enough to warrant a ski crowd.

The economy changed and word got out, people started flocking here. A cheaper option for a similar escape to the big lake town about an hour north. I guess I have to be thankful for the change. Though I don't enjoy the influx of people every summer, it is good for business. A business that didn't always look so grand.

The restaurant has changed a lot over the years. When I first started working here at fourteen, it was a snack shack slash lake rental unit. The rentals were far and few between seeing as most locals had their own gear. The snack shack was a hit though. Being on the lake all day works up an appetite.

It wasn't until much later when the restaurant came along. It started small, slowly built up along with the number of out of town-ers. Now it's become a destination spot. One I can proudly take a bit of responsibility for. I had to use my degree for something, right?

"Olive!" Sam's voice sails through the restaurant, flying through the doors clear as day.

Olive. Sam's the only one to call me that. He's also been doing it my whole life. He's actually the only constant I've ever had, the only person who's been there since birth, by choice. I'm not tied to Sam by blood. He chose to stick around when things got messy, and to say they got fucking messy would be an understatement.

I take one more look at the calm water before making my way back inside. "Yeah?"

"I already see some people lingering out front. Let's go ahead and open the doors. We can't make a profit without customers!" He smiles, but I can see a strain behind his words.

He's tired.

So am I.

I push up the last umbrella before making my way to the front doors, passing a smiling Charlie heading back to the kitchen. He knows Sam can get in a bit of a mood sometimes and prefers to stay clear when he can. Sam just wants the business to do well. Especially when this isn't exactly the life he ever wanted. But I guess it's not the life any of us wanted, and yet, here we are.

It's not long before the restaurant is bustling with people. It helps that we're surrounded by lake rental houses and a new Lake Inn next door. Makes the breakfast crowd quite large in the summers.

"Can you believe it?" one of the teens in the booth to my right snaps. "I mean, he actually showed his ass to the entire street."

My eyes begin to roll without a thought. One thing I don't enjoy about the restaurant business is the fun crowd of local teens who stroll in. Their giddy interest in pop culture makes me feel like the old grump shouting at kids to get off his lawn.

"And it was a fine ass."

"Clara!"

"What? You're telling me if you had a backstage pass to his concert, you wouldn't be trying to get a closer look?"

"Okay, I didn't say that. Max Hayes is the freaking dream."

The pot of coffee that was once firm in my grasp nearly crashes to the ground beneath me at the mention of his name. I'm suddenly a lot more curious about what they have to say, leaning over just a bit to catch their words.

Wait, why on earth are they talking about his ass? Oh, God. What has he done now? The headlines that surround the name Max Hayes have been nothing less than cringeworthy. At least to me. The rest of the world seems to be drooling over the fallen popstar.

"Aren't you girls a little young for the country star?" I ask, weaseling my way into their conversation while subtly glancing over their shoulder to see what they seem to be looking at. I know he's been all over the tabloids lately. Something I wish I could avoid, but I just can't seem to ignore it, hoping at least half of what gets plastered across magazines is false.

"I'm turning eighteen next week," the one on the far end speaks up.

My eyes catch hers, my mouth dropping slightly as I take in the sight of her too small shirt. Damn, I really am getting old. "Oh, I wasn't just talking about being legal."

"Age is just a number." She shrugs, her eyes locking back onto the screen. "He's hot. Could you imagine him singing to you? Writing a song about you?"

The girls all begin squealing, and I'm about ready to walk away. Because the thing is, I don't have to imagine those things. I have to try and forget them.

"Wait," another one speaks up. "You look older." Gee, thanks for noticing. "And he went to high school here..." I know where this is going. I should have walked away when I had a chance. "Did you know him?"

She holds up her phone now, allowing me to get a good look of the bare ass they can't seem to stop jabbering about. Beside that picture is another one of him leaning up against the side of a building. Only one shoe, hair frayed in different directions. It's the eyes that have me lost though. The red edge, the layer plastered over them. They're empty, void. They're not the same eyes I fell in love with.

"No," I reply, turning away from the broken scene displayed on that screen. "I don't know the boy in that photo."

As I turn to walk away, the truth of that statement works its way to my gut, anchoring down deep. I drop off the coffee pot behind the counter, ignoring Charlie's look of concern while staggering my way through the kitchen and out the back door. My knees hit the sand as my feet fall beneath me.

I don't know the boy in that photo.

I know the kind boy who walked me home everyday after school, who sang with me on the dock when I just needed a moment away from my reality, the boy who told me he loved me and would never leave me. That boy was worth knowing.

The one on that screen, I don't know who that boy is. And that reality rips me apart. Not just because I've lost him, but because he's lost himself.

I can hear her before she actually reaches me. I knew after seeing the commotion all the girls were going on about that she wouldn't be too far behind.

"You saw it didn't you?"

My eyes flash up to see Ryder, my very outspoken, brilliantly charming best friend who just so happens to have a radar out for when I need her. She's been here through everything that took place in my life since I was ten years old. She filled a hole that was left by the same boy on two separate occasions.

"I saw it."

She plops down beside me, letting the silence circle us for a moment. I appreciate how well she knows me. That she knew I'd be out here, that I would need the air, the time to let all of this settle. "It was a nice ass. I can see why you're still pouting over it."

I should have known the silence wouldn't last long. You can probably see what I mean about being outspoken now, too. I should probably add crass to that list.

"It is a nice ass," I reiterate with a laugh. I can't deny what everyone else has clearly seen, and the fact that I really needed a laugh right about now.

"In all fairness, you have a nice ass too." She leans her shoulder into mine, a playful smile in her voice. My smile is genuine but small. She's a good friend, always has been. But she senses my reserve, responding with her own brief silence. It's not like her to be quiet. On a short breath, her face turns to mine, "Do you think he's okay?"

I look out at the parking lot, watching as another car pulls in. It's getting busy which means the lunch hour is nearing. It also means my sulking ass needs to get back to work. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep falling apart every time he messes up. He moved on. He chose this life he's swirling around in.

"I don't know, Ry." I let a breath of air float between us. "But if I had to guess, no. I don't think he's okay." That's the reality that keeps me invested, keeps my heart tethered to his.

She just nods, placing an arm around my shoulder. "I don't think so either. So what do we do?"

I wish I had an answer to that question. I wish I didn't still ache to be the answer to that question. To be the one he actually needs to pull him out. That's not my role anymore and it hasn't been in years.

"I don't think it's up to us to fix it. Not anymore." That's the answer I keep telling myself. It's not up to me. It stopped being my problem the moment he walked away.

With that, I stand from the soft warm blanket of the sand and wipe down my pants.

"I gotta get back to work. You want to come get something to eat?" I gesture back to her as I stand at the door.

"You buying?" her eyes shoot up.

The smile on my face begins to give away my answer before I even speak. "Nope."

Her laugh brings one to my face as well. "Wouldn't expect any less. Yeah, I'll come in."

She follows me inside, her arms resting on my shoulder.

The thing is, it wasn't always like this, Max and me. Each of us drowning alone. There was a time when I could lean on him just as much as he could lean on me. Whenever something went wrong, he was there. If he needed me, I never hesitated. We just found each other, no matter what.

I remember the very first time I found him, or better yet, saw him. Actually looked at him and saw those empty eyes. Empty because of the pain he was in, not the drugs. He's still in pain, he's just empty for a whole other reason.

The thing is, people leave. They walk away and they don't come back. And that right there is what has me struggling to catch my breath. Because it doesn't matter how many years have passed, he's still the boy who took my heart and ran.