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Sucking in a steadying breath I slide out of my truck and enter the diner. Acting like I’m not remembering waking up with a naked Bambi wrapped tightly in my arms.

“Hey man, finally. We were all hungry, so we ordered your regular,” Owen greets me with a slap to my back, steering me towards our booth. The same booth we always sit in. There has to be a decade’s worth of Izzy’s gum stuck to the bottom of the table.

“Thanks,” I manage and slip into the booth next to him directly across from Bambi.

“Hey Bambi.” My voice drops an octave when she looks up through her feathery lashes and the light catches on the dark green ring around her irises. She really is as innocent and pure as a baby deer.

“Hey,” she replies in a soft breathy voice I am far too familiar with now.

Izzy and Owen launch into a very loud and animated conversation, half of which I don’t listen to. Those two bicker like it’s an Olympic sport. Not for the first time I’m happy I don’t have siblings.

Our food arrives and we all shove our faces full of the same four meals we’ve been ordering for years. Grilled chicken salad with walnuts for Izzy, spaghetti bolognaise for Owen, double bacon cheeseburger for me and BLT with extra pickles for Bambi. A giant plate of curly fries and every flavor of sauce they have set in the center of the table to share.

I’m going to miss nights like this, sitting with people I know better than myself and food I don’t even have to order but comes out perfect every time.

But that’s also exactly why I’m leaving. To get out and see the world and meet new people and eat new food. Sitting here may be comfortable but I’m tired of comfortable and predictable. I want new and exciting, unknown and unfamiliar. The fact that everyone in town knows about my history is a high incentive to leave.

“So, we were thinking we’d spend one last night together, like we used to in high school,” Izzy preens with a mischievous smile.

“Like what? Is it gonna get me in trouble like when you wanted to go for a swim in the school’s pool and lied saying we were allowed to be there but ended up in detention for two weeks?” Bambi, the forever law abiding good girl, shoots a glare at her best friend and I stifle a laugh.

“No. Just a trip to the hangout house.”

The hangout house is an abandoned house on like, ten acres of land just outside of town. Kids for the last twenty years have been using it for parties, hook-ups, weekend runaways from home. We use it as a hangout. On an occasion or two I used it for hook-ups too.

The house is a two-story mashup of various styles of architecture, I think one is called Victorian, other than that I have no idea. There aren’t any restrictions when building in Alaska and whoever built the house seemed to have a flare for the unusual. With one of those pointy witch hat towers and everything.

Now the house sits empty, windows boarded up and paint peeling. The locals have taken it upon themselves to redecorate the interior. When one kid tagged the exterior, someone saw it and the house was off limits for the next six months once the adults caught on to what it was being used for.

“Why do you want to go there?” Bambi asks. Izzy shrugs and pops another barbeque covered curly fry in her mouth.

“Thought it would be one last trip down memory lane. Ya know because Warren’s leaving us forever.”

Izzy gives me an unapproving scowl. I give her one right back.

“What do you say man? You in?” Owen bumps my shoulder with his and I risk a quick glance at Bambi. She looks apprehensive but hopeful.

On any other day I would say yes, so why shouldn’t I now? If I said no, it would be more suspicious.

“Sure. Why not.”

“Sweet. You’re driving.” Owen pushes me out of the booth, and we all set down the same amount of cash we always do that we know will cover our food plus tip.

“What do you mean I’m driving? You know my truck only seats three.”

“It fit all four of us fine in high school. It wouldn’t be a trip down memory lane without all of us piling into your truck.”

It was standard for us all to squeeze into my truck whenever we all went somewhere together. Even though Owen had an SUVthat fit five or more people, for some reason we just always went in my truck.

“Well, adult us aren’t going to fit,” I argue.

“Sure, we are,” he smiles and scoops Bambi up with a squeal and loud laugh. “Rae will just have to sit on my lap. Problem solved.”

Hell to the fucking no.

Bambi is not sitting on anyone's lap, especially another guy’s. My pulse picks up and that all too familiar burning jealousy and possessiveness kick in harder than they ever have.

“No, she won’t.” I jog around Owen and snatch Bambi right out of his arms and settle her in mine. That’s better. “You’re driving.”