Sadie hadn't been to the Bailey estate since Ingrid had vanished the year before. Once upon a time the sight of that crystal rocketing out of the cliffs and pointing out to the endless Pacific would elicit only excitement at a night of wildfire fun. Now it looked like a prison for super villains in a comic book movie.

In and out. That's the plan. But she couldn't help but think that some force was working against her plans. As she neared the Bailey estate she felt dread pool in her gut.

She threw the Golf into park just outside the front doors. There were already a few delivery trucks parked. Bulky movers hauled DJ equipment, crates of liquor, and god knows what else into the house. Sadie stood at the threshold, debating whether to leave the pizzas on the curb, but she had promised Gino she'd delivery them directly to Christophe, and a promise made was a promise kept. Her sneakers echoed on the floor as she entered the great glass room cradling her first tower of pizzas. Movers wizzed past her. They had already half-assembled a large stage at the back of the great room with lighting rigs, gobos, and disco balls where in a few hours some famous DJ would kick off the party.

She spotted the subtlest dark stain in the marble. The exact spot where Ingrid had broken her face last year. Sadie would never forget that night. She recalled where she had watched from deep in the crowd as Ingrid spat threats. She hadn't even thought about stepping forward to help her. No one that night had. Sadie hadn't known Bianca, but, she knew the carnage Ingrid could inflict. There was a disquieting pleasure seeing Ingrid's disfigurement and humiliating excommunication. It was both unsettling and poetic all at once. Like some cautionary tale from The Universe. The last time anyone saw Ingrid's face was the first time they saw her true face, which was grotesque and hateful, fangs and gore, cunning and wildly insane.

The memory of Ingrid's smashed face bit into Sadie's mind like a leech. For the past year she be haunted by Ingrid's broken teeth in her dreams. Her blood smeared eyes flashed into her wandering thoughts. But the memory that truly gnawed into her was when Ingrid had glared directly at Sadie. And she had glared directly at Sadie. Or at least that's what Sadie felt. That Ingrid had stared through the crowd and made direct eye contact when she said I'll kill you.

Sadie gazed up and saw herself from the mirrored ceiling. Why the fuck was she back here?

"Sadie Swyft!" came a musical voice. Christophe Bailey ascended the stairs from the bowels of the house. The ridiculous human was wearing a tuxedo jacket made from hot pink shag carpet, swim trunks, and diamond encrusted Crocs. He held a selfie stick and lived streamed himself, "You may know her as the girl who brings you take-out, but I know her as Swifter 2000!"

Christophe snaked his arm and selfie stick around Sadie, putting her into a two-shot, "The girl who delivered the crown jewel to the party to end all parties."

Sadie slid from out from the camera's view, "One hundred large pizzas is the crown jewel?"

"Behold," Christoph made a sweeping gesture, framing the camera to capture an above ground inflatable pool set up near the bar, "Pizza wrestling." He announced triumphantly.

Christophe put himself into an extreme close up and motor mouthed like a carnival barker, "Slices will slap! Pepperonis and nipples with be confused! Only one, maybe two shall survive! Tonight! Along with special guest from Vegas, DJ Dairy Queen and the Blizzards. So, get here and achieve your rare collectable Christophe Funko Pop!"

Christophe conjured a Funko Pop of his own likeness seemingly out of thin air. Finally he crescendoed for his final send off. He extended the arm of the selfie stick for a high angle shot and spun around like the Sound of Music, "Tonight! At Christophes Last Epic Party Ever! Trademark bitch!"

And the final cherry on top, Christophe tore open his shirt like Superman, which revealed a limited edition promo shirt for his own party. He concluded with his classic sign-off, "See you in two hours, ya weird turd dogs!"

And with that, he ended the live stream, retracted his selfies stick, and his energy dipped, but only just a bit. "Swyfty Swyft. How you've changed."

"You're a menace to reality, Christophe."

"I indulge my privilege. You mind dumping all the pizzas in the tub?"

Sadie obliged and the pizzas hit the bottom of the pool with a wet slap. "No one's going to pizzas wrestle, Chris."

"Oh ye have little faith. Absurdity always triumphs!"

A mover lugging a box caught Christophe's eye, "Yo! Compadre! You're not suppose to be here. The inflatable triangles go to the permanent indoor pool not the impermanent inflatable indoor pool! Do I have to spell it out?" And as was Christophe's style, he was already torpedoing off as quickly as he torpedoed in.

*

Sadie finished emptying the first stack of pizzas into the pool and returned to her Golf to grab more. When she exited onto the front steps she saw Jordan, Autry, Gigi, and Moss on the driveway in a heated debate. Autry looked near tears, while Jordan, Moss, and Gigi went at each other with ferocity.

Sadie tried to hear what they were fighting about, but as she inched closer, Jordan spotted her. He shushed the others and they all jumped straight into performing like everything's been totally casual. Jordan left the group and jogged up to Sadie, grinning wide, which sat phony on his face as his cheeks were still red with anger. What the fuck was going on with all of them? Sadie wondered.

"Are we still not talking? Because I can not talk and still help you bring those in." Jordan hitched his thumbs at the pizza stuffed VW.

Sadie pushed past Jordan and clutched another stack of pizzas from the passenger seat, "I don't need help, thanks."

Jordan disregarded this and grabbed a stack of pizzas anyway, following Sadie back into the great room, "C'mon, were the only two poor kids at Beachwood, we have to stick together."

Sadie had managed to ignore Jordan as he silently helped her to and from her car dumping all one hundred pizzas into the tub. The whole time they were unloading Sadie prepped herself to leave Jordan without saying a word once the work was done. It would be a boss babe power move she thought, but now that it was time, she couldn't resist saying something, "Well, I gotta jet. Enjoy your life, Jordan."

Not as bad as she thought. The silent fuck you exit would've been better, but she could live with the harsh sting of her cold kiss goodbye. She swooped past Jordan and was almost at the door when he said, "Really?"

She turned around even though her brain expressly told her not to.

"This is how you're going to say goodbye forever?" Jordan folded his arms in reproach.

Sadie coughed a bitter little laugh, "Nothing is going to stop me from getting the F out of Dodge. So... Peace."

But before she could turn away again he opened his arms, inviting her in for a big hug. Even with all her anger, she was still drawn to Jordan. They had always had sexual and romantic tension although they had never acted upon it. It was an undeniable chemistry. An unspoken yearning that was never given oxygen because Jordan had been Ingrid's boyfriend since 9th grade. When they broke up near the end of 11th grade, three months before Ingrid's disappearance, Sadie never dared make a move on Jordan. The idea of getting on Ingrid's bad side by dating her ex was too treacherous. Most would agree that you'd be better off jumping in front of a train.

So Sadie and Jordan remained just friends. Close friends. Friends that texted little weird funny things throughout the day and into he wee hours of the night. Friends that watched horror movies and went for late night walks in the park when everyone else was asleep. Friends that talked about the hard stuff. In their own ways both Jordan and Sadie had lost everything. For Sadie it was her house, and money, and dad... and then as a result lost her mom too. For Jordan it was his scholarship and his future. The scholarship we'll get to a bit later, but for now, it's important to know that while they were the two poor kids at Beachwood, Sadie had once had money, and because of her excellent grades and prize winning fencing skills, the school board kept her enrolled gratis. Jordan also had a full ride to Beachwood Academy, but that was because his father, who was the custodian, had once saved the life of the chairman of the school board after a highway collision.

By 11th grade, Sadie and Jordan had deepened their bond over the nothingness they both existed in, but at least they had each other. And even though she wanted him so badly, deep down Sadie thought she could wait until Ingrid was gone. But when she was finally gone and the path to a relationship was free of a sadistic predator, he stopped returning her texts, or calls, or even returning a sentence when she confronted him about it in person in the halls. Yes, he completely ghosted her without explanation and now he wants a hug.

And despite all this, she now, step-by-step, found herself shuffling into his arms. It was uncomfortable at first, but after a few moments his familiar spicy scent softened the muscles in her shoulders and she embraced him back.

What am I doing and why do I like it?

It was at the moment that Gigi entered the Great Room from outside, "I knew it! Lucky Ingrid's dead because she'd kill you both."

Sadie and Jordan darted apart.

Moss followed in after Gigi with his bulging arms over Autry. "No one knows if she's actually dead, Geeg." Autry said.

"Right babe, I heard she's got a g-string full of singles, stripping somewhere in Tampa." Moss laughed, grabbing Autry's ass. Sadie gagged.

A tinny ding pulled everyone's attention to Christophe. He had appeared, holding a string with a musical triangle dangling underneath. He dinged it again with an ornate sword, which was probably some actual prop from Game of Thrones, "My most esteemed guests. I see all my co-conspirators have arrived."

Sadie took one last look at Jordan. There was so much she still wanted to know. So much she wanted to scream. But she wasn't going to stick around, "See ya." she said and turned as the others gathered around Christophe.

"Umm, Swifter 2000?" The others parted, which revealed Christophe pointing his the sword at her, "Where do you think you're going? This concerns you too."

Sadie stopped dead in her tracks. The others all looked to each other confused as if Sadie was some unexpected curveball.

Christophe sheathed his sword after two dramatic swooshes, "Follow me. This tale is best served with a frothed s'more-tini"