The next party was louder. Bigger. Wilder.

Someone's older brother had rented out a lake house, and half the senior class showed up. Kegs on the porch. Flashing lights inside. A fire pit in the back. Music loud enough to shake ribs.

Molly didn't want to come, but Amy dragged her.

"You've been sulking for a week," Amy said. "You need to show your face. Everyone's talking."

"About what?" Molly muttered, knowing the answer.

Amy didn't say anything, just handed her a drink and shoved her into the house.

Molly's eyes adjusted to the neon glow- and froze.

Jessica was already there.

Leaning against the kitchen counter. Laughing at something the girl from the last party said. The one with braids and effortless cool. Wearing a deep red tank top and dark jeans that hugged every line of her body.

Molly's throat tightened.

Jessica looked happy. Free.

And then she saw Molly.

Their eyes locked. And Jessica? She didn't flinch. Didn't look away.

She just raised her glass in a slow, sardonic toast - and slid her hand around the girl's waist.

Molly downed her drink in two gulps.

She tried to ignore them. Talked to people. Dance a little. But her eyes kept drifting back like they were wired to Jessica's gravity.

Then it happened.

Molly saw them disappear.

Jessica and the girl - her name was Selene, apparently - laughing as they pushed through a crowd and headed down the hall toward the guest rooms.

Molly froze.

Her chest caved in. Air thinned.

She didn't want to go. She shouldn't go.

But her feet moved anyway.

The hallway was dim. Music throbbed through the walls.

One door was cracked open.

She wasn't trying to watch. Not really. But her feet stopped there, anyway.

She heard them.

Whispers. Gasps.

Clothes rustling.

She saw Jessica on the bed, lips parted, neck tilted as Selene pressed kisses down her throat. Her shirt was halfway up, exposing a constellation of skin. Jessica's breath hitched when Selene's hand disappeared beneath the waistband of her jeans.

Molly's nails dug into her palms.

Then- Jessica moaned.

Not loud. But enough to echo.

Molly turned and walked away like she was running from a fire.

Fifteen minutes later, Jessica stepped out of the room.

Her tank top was wrinkled, her hair messy, lips a little swollen. Hickeys bloomed at her collarbone like bruised roses.

She looked flushed. Spent. Powerful.

And Molly was waiting by the stairs.

"What the hell was that?" Molly demanded, voice sharp as broken glass.

Jessica blinked. "Excuse me?"

"That." Molly hissed, stepping in front of her. "With her. That was - "

"What? Public?" Jessica said flatly. "You don't get to care, Molly. You made that pretty clear."

Molly's jaw clenched. "You knew I was there."

"Of course I did," Jessica said "you think I didn't notice you staring? You've been staring for weeks, Molly. And doing nothing."

Molly's hand shook. "So, this is punishment?"

Jessica's eyes narrowed, "No, this is me moving on."

"That's bullsh- "

"No," Jessica snapped, stepping forward now. "You don't get to be angry that I'm not sitting around waiting for you to figure yourself out. I begged you to be honest with me. You ran. You shut me out. And now I'm done waiting for the Molly Hastings redemption arc."

Molly's voice was hoarse. "It's not that simple- "

"Yes, it is," Jessica cut in. "You either want me or you don't. But you don't get to want me silently while I break myself trying to matter to you."

Silence burned between them.

Molly's face was red, her eyes glassy, her jaw locked.

But she said nothing.

Jessica shook her head, stepping past her.

"Molly," she said softly, just once.

Molly turned; eyes wide.

Jessica looked at her, eyes stormy, voice low.

"You had your chance."

And then she walked away.