Author's Note: THIS. CHAPTER. That is all.

I would have to stop seeing Amanda. It seemed like the only possible solution, the one that would cause the least amount of harm. I realized now that I had been selfish; I had put my own happiness first and ignored that of those around me. If either Josh or Jessica found out about what had happened...

I was miserable, but I had to stop thinking about myself.

Ignoring the text from Amanda (I couldn't face her now, I just couldn't), I sent Jess a quick reply about how I would meet her at the airport at nine the next evening. Then I pushed myself to my feet with a sigh and headed back to my car.

Sleep didn't come easily that night and I awoke in the morning disgruntled and irate, and just as miserable as I had been the night before. Amanda texted me again, and once again I ignored it. I didn't feel like I could tell her what I had decided yet, because I knew it would hurt her as much as it was hurting me.

The day was spent lounging around my apartment, so I was entirely unprepared for when someone knocked on my door at half past five.

I was even more surprised when I opened the door to see Amanda standing there.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said before I could close the door in her face—which was my first impulse. "I don't know what I did wrong—"

Tears were threatening to overflow her eyes, so I said hastily, "You didn't do anything wrong, but I did. Amanda...I have a girlfriend."

Something in her face seemed to harden, and she pushed past me, into my apartment. "I know."

"Then why—"

She spun around to face me, and I couldn't tell if her expression was angry or sad. "We've known each other for years, Matt. But we've never seen each other as anything more than friends, because of Josh. And now that he's gone, it's like I'm getting to know you all over again."

She took a step towards me. "You're sweet, and funny, and you help me forget about him. I need you, Matt."

Part of me wanted to step away from her, but I couldn't move. "Uh..." I said eloquently.

"You like me," she stated, her eyes boring into mine, and I knew she didn't mean just as a friend.

For a second I considered lying to her. I could end this all right here, I could send her away; but I saw in her face that she wouldn't take no as an answer. She knew as well as I did how I felt. "Yes," I sighed.

"And I like you. A lot."

"I know, but—I can't do this." She had taken another step forward and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Jessica's coming home tonight, and I can't hurt her like this."

"What about me?" Amanda whispered. "Is it okay for you to hurt me?"

"No, of course not," I said hurriedly. "But there's no good way to end this. Someone has to get hurt."

"I can think of a way to end this that wouldn't hurt quite as much," she murmured, and then she was kissing me, and before I could convince myself to do otherwise, I was kissing her back.

There was no room for thought, for guilt, for rational decision; there was only Amanda and the softness of her hair in my hands and her lips on mine. A warmth was spreading through me, and it extinguished all desire to pull away.

This was wrong; everything about it was wrong.

No. This was right; everything about it was right.

Her hands reached up to tangle in my hair and mine slid down to grasp her waist, and just as I made to pull her closer, she pulled away.

"How long do you have?" Her voice was low, a little hoarse.

I found my throat was dry as well. "I have to leave at eight-thirty."

"'Til eight-thirty, then." Again, there was an emotion in her eyes I couldn't quite define. "After that, none of this ever happened."

I nodded dumbly. "We'll go back to being friends?"

"And no one will know we were anything but." Her lips were eagerly on mine again, and she managed to push me backward towards the couch. My knees hit it and we tumbled down, still entangled.

Was it so wrong that this made me happy? After all, this was a one-time thing—we had already promised that tomorrow, things would go back to being the way they always had been.

The thought that this would be the last time I would feel Amanda like this, hold her close and taste her lips, made my stomach twist with something like despair. I kissed her harder, pushing her back into the cushions, and she responded in earnest.

I guess we were so caught up in each other that neither of us heard the click of the key in the lock, or the creak of the door as it swung open.

"What. The. Fuck."

Shit. I knew that voice.

Amanda and I sprang apart as if we could somehow erase the evidence of what we'd been doing. Slowly, my face flushing with embarrassment, I turned to face Jessica. She was standing in the doorway, her face a thundercloud, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"It's not—"

"Not what it looks like, is it?" Jessica's voice was trembling with anger. "Well, Matthew, could you please tell me what it is, then?"

Of course I couldn't answer that question. Weakly, I tried to change the subject. "What are you doing home? You weren't supposed to land until nine..."

"I asked to be transferred to an earlier flight. I wanted to come home early and surprise you. Guess you're the one who ended up surprising me."

She still hadn't moved from the doorway, and tears were flowing down her cheeks. The guilt that I had pushed away had come back in full force, and I stood up and took several steps towards her.

"Don't come near me," she snarled. "Don't touch me with the hands that touched that bitch."

Her tone, her choice of words, reminded me startlingly of Josh, and I snapped. "Don't talk about her like that!" I shouted.

"Matt, don't—" I heard Amanda say from behind me, but I ignored her.

"I'll call her whatever the hell I want!" Jess screamed at me. "Is this how it always is when I'm gone? You find some new girl to fuck while I'm away?"

"What? No!" I said quickly. "No, it's never been like that, I'd never do that—"

"That's pretty hard to believe, considering what I just saw," Jess spat. She turned her attention to Amanda. "How do you think Josh would feel, knowing you cheated on him with his best friend?"

Tears had started in Amanda's eyes now, and I saw her wince at Jessica's words. "Josh and I broke up," she choked out.

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that," Jessica said mockingly, with absolutely no sympathy in her face. "So you went to dear Matt here as a rebound?"

"No!" Amanda said, looking horrified. "I wouldn't do that—"

"Again," Jessica interrupted, "I find that hard to believe, given the circumstances." She turned away from Amanda and back to me, and it seemed that the majority of her anger had blown out. Now she just looked...broken.

"I can't believe you would do this to me," she whispered. "How could you?"

"I'm sorry," I managed to say. "I didn't mean—this was never supposed to—" Feeling helpless and at a loss of words, I took another step towards her. Suddenly her anger flared up again, as raw as it had been before.

"I said, don't come near me," she hissed, her voice dangerously low. "Don't take another fucking step towards me."

"Jess—"

"You know, I never thought you were that kind of guy," she said, her voice still calm although anger was flashing in her eyes. "I didn't think you'd ever—"

"It's not—"

She acted like she couldn't hear me. "—Cheat on me. I thought you were better than that. I guess we're all wrong sometimes, huh?"

"Listen—"

Rather than calm her down, my interruptions seemed to make her even more furious. "No, you listen!" she shouted at me. "I don't want to hear any of your goddamn excuses! We're done."

"What?" I said weakly.

"You heard me. We're done!"

"Jess, please—"

"You know what? Just fuck off, Matt," she said coldly. "I don't want to hear anymore; I think you've hurt me enough. Just get out."

"But—"

"You heard me." Her voice was as hard as steel. "Get. Out."

Not knowing what else I could do or say, I left.

I had really fucked up this time. Feeling oddly empty, like all my organs had shrunken up, I pulled open the door to my car and slid inside. For a moment I allowed myself to sit there, resting my head on the steering wheel and blinking back tears, before I realized Amanda would soon be escaping the apartment as well. She was the last person I needed to see right now.

Maybe it would be better if I never saw her again.

I pulled away from the front of the apartment and took off down the street, taking out my anger on the pedal. There was only one place I could think of to go, really. I couldn't go to see Mike or Ian, because they could never know about what had happened, and obviously I couldn't see Josh—not that I knew where he was. I couldn't visit any of my other friends, because I couldn't bear to tell them. I was too ashamed.

My sight was blurred with tears and my head filled with convoluted thoughts; I missed the winding road the first time I passed it and had to turn around. I was driving recklessly fast, given the condition of the road and the quality of the light, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I just needed to get away, even though I knew being at the fort probably wouldn't make me feel any better.

I slowed down as I approached the small copse of trees. There was already a car parked by the shoulder, and as I drove closer, I recognized it.

Josh. What was he doing here?

Part of me wanted to drive off as fast as I could in the opposite direction, but most of me was curious. Was this where Josh had been spending most of his time, when none of us could contact him? I remembered the plastic bag he had shoved into his pocket on Friday, the way he had been acting, and my stomach twisted.

No. Josh wouldn't...

I had to find out for sure. I figured I could check on him, and if I was quiet enough I could get out before he even saw me. With everything that had happened recently, I hadn't found time to worry about Josh—and I hadn't really wanted to, given that I was still kinda pissed at him.

Hoping I wouldn't regret this, I parked my car just behind Josh's and made my way toward the trees. It was dark under their leaves, and for a moment I couldn't see anything at all.

And then I saw a crumpled shape lying on the ground.

It wasn't—it couldn't be—But I couldn't kid myself too much; Josh and I were the only ones here. Quickly I walked over to his body, trying not to think the worst.

He was lying on his side, his legs slightly folded. Even in the darkness I could tell his face was deathly pale and—was he breathing?

"Josh!" I shouted, feeling panicked. "JOSH!" He didn't move, didn't even stir, even though I thought I had shouted loud enough to wake the dead. "Josh! Please, wake up..."

It was then that I noticed the plastic bag clutched in one hand, and the joint in the other, and everything fell into place.

I had realized it a couple of days before, of course, on Friday, but I hadn't wanted to—I didn't want to believe it, I didn't think Josh would ever sink to that again. And then I had pushed it out of my mind. I had been too goddamned selfish to notice my own best friend's problems; I had been fooling around with his ex-girlfriend while he had been getting high every night.

Pushing down the self-hatred and guilt that threatened to choke me, I pulled out my phone with a shaking hand. I couldn't stop the tears from overflowing my eyes and dripping down my cheeks as I dialled 911.