The sun started to descend in the sky as it cast an orange glow on the hill. A breeze whispered across the grass, making the blades ripple in waves.

"And then mom said, 'She needs a fucking exorcism.'" Lexi finished her story with a graceful flourish of the chain of flowers she was braiding together. "Which, to be fair, might actually be true."

Rue attempted to picture the moment in her mind and snorted at what it looked like. "I know this whole situation is my fault, but that's, like, genuinely hilarious." She plucked a petal from the dandelion in her hand.

"You may have expedited the process," Lexi admitted, "but it was never going to end well for Cassie. She should've seen something like this coming from the moment she got into bed with Nate."

"Gross." Rue wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I don't need that image floating around in my head."

Per Rue's parting comment from the night before, the girls had met up early in the afternoon; they'd ridden their bikes around the neighborhood before deciding on the elementary school hill. They parked at the bottom and raced to the top, feeling free and innocent for the first time in a long time.

The hill had been a staple in their childhood: on clear nights, Rue's dad would bring her and Lexi to stargaze from its peak. He would outline a constellation in the sky, tracing it with a finger, and feed them pieces of astronomy knowledge.

The hill was also the place where they would go sled riding, which, because of California weather, really just meant sneaking lunch trays out of the cafeteria and using them as sleds.

"At least you don't have to hear her go on and fucking on about the whole ordeal," Lexi said. Her tongue poked out between her teeth as she concentrated on putting the final touches on her flower braid. "When we have to hide the knives in the bushes, maybe it's time some kind of professional intervenes."

Rue gazed at her friend thoughtfully. She'd gone through a lot of contemplation since they left each other last night; outside of immediate family, Lexi had proven to be the only stable component in Rue's life over the years. There was an excess of instances in which Lexi could've, and some would say should've, bailed on Rue – walked out without so much as a backwards glance. But she never did. It never even crossed her mind to do so.

"I feel like," Rue started, breathing in deeply, "I need to apologize. For a lot. At the moment, though, mostly the Cassie thing. So, I'm sorry." She twisted the stem of the dandelion around her index finger. "It doesn't mean much, but I swear it wasn't my intention to blow shit up when I got to your house that night."

"I know," Lexi acknowledged. On her face was a soft, wistful smile. "I don't think you're a bad person, Rue. I think you're not yourself when you use, and it tends to lead to bad decision making."

This wasn't a new concept; Rue had heard echoes of similar ideas from Ali, who seemed to contain infinite wisdom. Even after hearing it multiple times, she wasn't convinced it was fair or accurate.

"I'm not sure about that," Rue murmured.

"What do you mean?"

It took a moment for Rue to compose her thoughts. "Don't get me wrong. It's, like, a nice sentiment. And I appreciate it. It's just…I don't know how true it is. I just mean, there's a shitload of times when I think I'm only myself when I use. Like the drugs bring out who I really am."

Lexi took time to process the words and what they meant. Rue could tell Lexi was searching for a true, heartfelt response rather than a simple, potentially cop out one. The fact she was putting so much effort into it sent a flood of warmth through Rue's body.

"I think," Lexi said after a minute, "that's a valid mindset." She would never be able to say from firsthand experience what the thoughts of a person battling addiction look like. She was aware of that, but Lexi had been conditioned to take care of other people, which meant trying to understand why they were thinking what they were thinking.

"You do?" Rue asked, slightly baffled. She hadn't anticipated that answer.

"Yeah," Lexi went on with a nod, "I mean, I'm not saying it's, like, the correct mindset – mostly because I don't believe the kind of person you really are is someone who goes around homewrecking situations. But I think I get why you would have that mindset." After a beat of silence, she hastily added, "And I'm not trying to sound like I know what's going through your head or how you're feeling, and I'm definitely not trying to sound like an expert on drugs—"

"Lexi, relax," Rue interrupted. When Lexi got nervous or anxious, she became a speed-talker: trying to force numerous ideas out of her mouth at the same time and rambling. Rue was glad to see that trait of Lexi's hadn't wavered throughout their tumultuous relationship. "It's okay. None of those things crossed my mind."

Lexi let out a sigh of relief. "Alright. Good. All I mean is, generally, you use because you're trying to get away from all of the bad shit in your head, right?"

"Right," Rue affirmed.

"Then if your mind thinks you've stripped away all of the bad shit with the drugs, it's only natural it thinks that what's left is who you are." Lexi held up the flower chain, which she'd interconnected to create a bracelet, to observe, then shifted her stare to Rue. "That doesn't make sense, does it? Sorry."

"No, it does," Rue told her. "In a weird, twisted way."

"Maybe if you just try to remind yourself that the drugs are actually contributing to the bad shit – not taking it away – it'll help in figuring out who you really are."

A small smile played on Rue's lips. "That's—"

"Shit, fuck, sorry. I don't mean to sound like a fucking therapist. I know it's not that simple and I'm being annoying—"

"Lexi," Rue ran interference again, "stop apologizing. You don't sound like a fucking therapist." She saw one of Lexi's eyebrows arch in disbelief and yielded. "Okay, fine, maybe you do a little bit. But I don't mind. I like that someone in my life still believes I have an ounce of goodness in me."

"I think you have more than an ounce of goodness left in you, Rue," Lexi said. "And besides, I'm not the only one who believes that. Your mom, Gia, Jules—" she faltered when she saw Rue shaking her head slowly.

"Nah, I've burned a lot of bridges in my life. Especially the last few weeks."

Lexi picked up on the sense Rue didn't want to talk about the bridges, at least not yet. So she settled on a quick nod. "Well, our bridge remains intact."

Rue grinned but didn't say anything for a moment. Sitting there on the hill, watching Lexi reach the end of her flower bracelet, Rue wished she could bottle up what she was feeling for all of eternity. For the first time since the months leading up to her dad's death, she felt like she could be entirely truthful with the person across from her. No little white lies or full-fledged fabrications needed. Plenty of people had seen Rue trying to stay clean or struggling to maintain that she was clean; Lexi had seen every facet of Rue: the good, the bad, the ugly, the sad. Lexi had seen the truth. And she still managed to see the best in her.

"How do you do it?" Rue asked eventually. She hadn't really meant to say it out loud. It seemed a question too deep, too probing for their friendship which was only beginning to rebuild. Now that it was out there, though, she was interested.

"How do I do what?" Lexi inquired.

"Like…everything." Rue waved a noncommittal hand around. "You're always so calm. And collected. Through everything. Even with this Cassie shit."

Lexi threw her shoulders up in a shrug. "It's sort of what I do. Recently I've simply just been channeling all of my thoughts and feelings into the play."

"Ah yes, the play," Rue said as she tossed another petal to the side. "I thought you were going to send me that so I could read it?"

Lexi contemplated Rue intently, boring into Rue's eyes with her own. "Here," Lexi said abruptly, offering the bracelet made of flowers to Rue, "for you."

Rue took it and slid it around her thin wrist. It was a simple gesture, a simple object, but Rue felt like it was made of thousands of unsaid words and thoughts. A small lump formed in her throat. She managed to force out, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Lexi paused. "Would you read it? The play?"

It wasn't a scathing question; Lexi didn't say it sarcastically. Per usual, there was nothing but curiosity in the delivery.

"I—" Rue swallowed hard. "Yeah. Of course I would. I mean, like, if you really wanted me to."

"I do," Lexi drew out the second word, indicating some amount of hesitation.

"But?"

"But it's also a very appealing thought to make you wait and be surprised about it with everyone else."

Rue huffed. "I beg your pardon, but since when am I nothing more than just a part of everyone else?"

"You're more than that," Lexi said with an air of reassurance. "Don't worry."

"Good answer. My feelings were almost hurt."

"Ha, that's ironic."

"What is?"

Lexi ran a hand through her ponytail. "I've kind of, like, been bouncing ideas about the play off of Fezco. One of the things he said is that people need to get their feelings hurt sometimes."

The statement was a casual one. It wasn't intended to offend Rue in any manner, but that didn't stop it from hitting her somewhere in the gut, feeling as though she'd caught a sucker punch.

"I'm sorry," Rue said, rather breathless. "You've been doing what with who?"

"Fez and I…we've kind of, like, been talking about the play for the last few weeks. Just, you know, going back and forth, trying to figure out what works and what doesn't."

"No, Lexi, I don't know," Rue told her. "I wouldn't know, actually, because until literally last night I didn't even know you and Fez spoke to each other. Let alone hung out. And have been hanging out for weeks, apparently."

Lexi stiffened slightly at the agitation in Rue's voice. She hadn't meant for it to come out as forceful as it did – forceful to the point where, if either girl was being honest, they would admit to it sounding an awful lot like jealousy for some reason.

"Not this again," Lexi said with a roll of her eyes. "In case you've forgotten, Fez is one of your friends too. You're getting a little close to coming across as a hypocrite, Rue."

She said it because she knew she could get away with it. Lexi was, of course, an observer who kept to herself. The difference lied in the fact those confines vanished into thin air when Rue was involved, leading Lexi to be able to express thoughts she wouldn't normally vocalize.

If anyone else had said it, Rue would've been up and storming down the hill without another word. But it came from Lexi, so the notion must be true.

Rue recognized the anger she felt at Lexi and Fez's friendship – whatever that meant – was both misplaced and irrational. Yet, the thought of them growing closer to each other made Rue's skin itch. She just couldn't precisely explain why.

Lexi, too, struggled with pinpointing what in particular upset Rue about the new relationship with Fez. There had been a miniscule part of Lexi, when she and Fez had started the conversation on New Year's, that thought perhaps exploring this route would open a new door for her and Rue which would help them get back to the way they used to be.

"Fuck," Rue muttered. She threw the dandelion to the side and buried her face in her hands. "I sound like a bitch right now. I'm sorry."

"You should be." Lexi's lips were turned up into a smile. "Why are you so against me hanging out with Fez? Is it really the whole injured-murdered-kidnapped-by-drug-dealers thing?"

"No," Rue said automatically, then shook her head. "Well, yeah, duh. I don't want any of those things to happen to you. Obviously." She stumbled in getting to the right words. "Fez is a good guy. He really is. But there's…a lot involved with him. I just don't want you getting hurt." It was a lame way to end the sentiment but rung true nonetheless.

Lexi took a minute to consider this. "Okay, but it's not like we're dating or anything. He's been a good sounding board. That's all. I don't think there'll be a chance for him to hurt me."

"Is that all though?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

What was that supposed to mean? The question had slipped beyond Rue's lips before she thought about where it came from.

Lexi looked expectantly, with no plans on saying anything further until Rue responded. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know where Rue was coming from; a weight had come out of nowhere and was starting to settle on her chest. She sat up straighter, picking blades of grass in an attempt to ignore the heaviness.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm saying, Lexi," Rue admitted. "I guess I just…I mean, do you want it to be more?"

"Are you asking me if I want to date Fezco?"

The thought had dug itself into Rue's mind from the second she heard Lexi's voice at Fez's two nights ago. It tried to grow, to burrow deeper and make Rue think about it, but she'd done a decent job at pretending it didn't exist. At least, so she thought. She guessed that explicitly asking about Lexi's heart's desires meant she'd failed.

To Lexi's credit, she managed to keep an unreadable face. Weeks of daily conversations with Fez and she still didn't know where she stood in terms of potential romantic feelings. It was an inevitable avenue of thinking, mainly because Fez was the first true prospective significant other Lexi had encountered since middle school – a point of her "love life" she didn't count as meaningful. And while Fez had been nothing but kind and supportive and endearing throughout all of their interactions, Lexi knew that didn't automatically make for a soul mate. Or whatever the hell people wanted to call it.

"Yeah," Rue sighed, "alright. I'm asking if you want to date Fezco."

"What are we, 12 years old and discussing who we like?" Lexi inquired. "Does my answer to that question have any kind of implication on this friendship?" On the surface, Lexi meant it as a joke, but an inkling in her heart told her she needed to hear this answer.

"Yes. Your answer is going to determine whether or not we ever speak again." Rue, too, adopted a playful manner. "No, weirdo, we'll be fine. I'm curious, that's all." She unexpectedly sounded and felt rather shy, then realized she was playing with the gifted flower bracelet on her wrist and wishing for a very certain response.

It felt like an eternity before Lexi replied.

"I don't know," she said simply. She felt the least she could do was be honest with Rue. "Like you said, he's a good guy, and we've talked a lot since New Year's. I'm not, like, actively seeking anything along those lines. It's more like seeing where things go, you know?"

"Sure," Rue said, though she didn't necessarily know.

"Besides," Lexi continued, looking up at the deepening sky, "I doubt Fez would ever even think of me like that."

Rue felt a pang of hurt as she understood that Lexi genuinely meant the words. "Lexi Howard, are you doubting yourself?"

Lexi regarded Rue with a small, pensive smile. "Oh, always."

Another twinge of aching. "Don't be ridiculous," Rue said thickly. "Fezco would be an idiot to not think of you like that."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it's so." Rue hesitated before adding, "You're, like, really awesome."

A grin broke out on Lexi's face. "Wow, Rue, was that a compliment?"

"Maybe."

"Say it again."

"No," Rue said with a smile of her own. "Now you're just taking advantage of my niceness."

"I would never," Lexi answered, pretending to be offended. "But thank you. That means a lot."

A silence descended upon them as they both lied back on the grass to gaze up at the expanse above them. The stars were making their appearance, dotting the sky with glimmers.

Rue rolled her head to the side so she could see Lexi. "Hey," she said. She poked Lexi's shoulder. "Seriously, I just want you to be careful. With everything. Please."

Lexi's eyes met Rue's, and something on atomic, cosmic levels shifted between them. The breeze had subsided, everything around them was unmoving, and they felt like they were the only ones around for thousands of miles. Maybe even in the entire universe. Their lives had been intertwined for nearly 17 years, but in that moment they were able to see each other clearly.

The cracks in the earth into which they felt they'd been slipping narrowed as an invisible force pulled them out. The world, which had a second ago seemed gigantic and terrifying and heartbreaking, was now painted with magnificent, captivating colors; it dared them to be and try anything they wanted to. A fire sparked – one that had probably been there all along, but never given the air needed to ignite. Suddenly, hearts beat a little bit faster and breaths came out a little shallower.

It was swift, it was unexpected, and it was rather disconcerting.

It was, moreover, a subject neither one was not quite ready to broach in any capacity.

"I will be," Lexi said softly.

To break the palpable tension, they turned their gazes skyward, seeking out constellations they used to know like the back of their hands.

"Is that one Ursa Major?" Rue asked with a finger pointed to a scattering of stars.

Lexi frowned in reflection. "I thought that one was." She directed attention a little farther to the right of where Rue was looking.

"I have no clue," Rue said. It made her sad to think that all of the knowledge her dad had imparted on them had washed away as though it'd never been there to begin with.

"Well," Lexi held, seemingly reading Rue's mind, "if you still have that book on stargazing your dad got us, we can bring it next time we come here."

The book hadn't been moved from Rue's nightstand since her dad's funeral. It was one of the few things that remained unchanged from when he was still around; Rue would glance at it every now and then – it acted as a catalyst for getting lost in memories.

The prospect of a "next time", a concept which was again a new one in their friendship, also sent a thrill of excitement through the girls.

"Yeah," Rue responded, "I still have it. We'll definitely bring it next time."

They fell into a comfortable quiet. Occasionally, an incomplete string of information would drift across one of their minds, and they would point upward while asking if the other remembered the name of a constellation or the origins of it.

After a few hours, they clambered down the hill, onto their bikes, and made their way home. At the intersection that would send them in opposite directions, they stopped, so Lexi could hand Rue's sweatshirt back to her; she'd returned it when they first met up that afternoon, but had once more commandeered it a short while ago when the wind picked up.

"Thanks," Lexi said. "Again."

"Not a problem," Rue replied as she took the article of clothing. They were about to turn away when she added, "Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Talk to you tomorrow," Lexi confirmed.

Pedaling away from one another, they both glanced over their shoulders, catching each other's eye and bringing grins to their faces. They didn't know what the night meant but were certain it was a fateful turning point.

When Rue plugged in her phone to charge it that night, she had a notification: an email with a single attachment titled "Our Life"; the accompanying message read simply: You have never been, and will never be, just a part of everyone else.