At this point, this woman knows my whole life story and has unwillingly tumbled into being my friend.

  She froze, her hands hovered over a few glasses as she turned her head to the side and said, “Okay, Linc.”

  “And maybe at the end of night you should also bill me for your therapy hour over here because I would say I don’t normally spill my guts to random strangers. But seeing as nothing about this night is normal for me, maybe this is just who I am as a newly single woman,” I said, throwing back the drink once more and swallowing it in several large gulps.

  Priya let out a loud, musical laugh as she put a few drinks at the end of the bar for a server to pick up. “No billing necessary, but you will need to slow down just a little on those Heartbreaks. How about water in between, love? Let’s not add a nasty hangover to your troubles this evening.” She slid a tall glass of water towards me.

  Aren’t bartenders supposed to keep feeding you alcohol?

  I drank it greedily.

  “More alcohol please,” I said, smiling at her.

  I spilled more of my guts to Priya as the evening went on. Her reassuring words and laughter interrupted my long monologues between water and her Priya Heartbreaks. I was, however, thoroughly smashed. I had no idea how many drinks I’d had, or how much it was going to cost me. I could just add it to the long list of bad decisions I’d been making throughout my entire life, including the one where I thought marrying Isaac was good for me.

  “We’re closing, love,” she said as she spoke to some of the servers and cleaned up the bar. I looked around and saw everyone else was gone except Priya and me.

  My drunk brain thought that was funny, and I started bubbling with laughter. Drunk brain felt fun and free, like the rest of the world didn’t matter and nothing was sad or angry anymore.

  I looked down at my phone and everything was fuzzy. I had a hard time sitting on the stool.

  Isaac: Please call me.

  Isaac: I’m worried. I told Mara.

  Isaac: She said she can’t get ahold of you. Please don’t do anything stupid. I still love you.

  I ignored all of his texts and slurred, “Fuck you,” as I fumbled with Mara’s messages. Mara’s the best. I just love Mara.

  Mara: Isaac said to check on you. What’s going on? I thought you guys were talking at our place. Do you need me to come home?

  Mara: I checked your location and you're at some random bar. Isaac said he isn’t with you and that you shouldn’t be alone tonight.

  Mara: Linc!! Text me back you bitch or I swear to god I will find you and drag your ass home.

  Linc: Fineeeetell u laterrr

  Drunk me thought that was very convincing.

  Mara, however, called me, and I answered the phone giggling.

  “Hiiii,” I drawled out, nearly falling off my chair.

  Priya rushed around the bar and gently put her arm underneath me. I realized she was quite a bit taller than me, even with my heels on. She wore tight leather pants and black lace-up combat boots. She really just kept getting cooler and cooler.

  “I made a new friend, Priya. She’s very pretty,” I said, leaning into her frame and inhaling the fresh crisp scent of her hair.

  “Priya, meet Mara!!” I exclaimed happily, shoving the phone in her face.

  “Hi, Mara was it? It seems Lincoln here is quite sloshed. I can help her into an Uber and send her your way. She had a bit of a rough night from all the drinks and chatting we did. Seems like she could use a good friend,” Priya said.

  Mara expressed her thanks before she asked to speak to me again.

  “Lincoln Genevieve Matsen, get your ass home right now. You are so lucky Priya seems like a nice woman because otherwise, I would come there and get your ass myself. I’ll follow your location until you are outside of our place. I love you. Be careful. I’m so sorry, sweetie. Isaac told me. Fuck him. I’ll see you soon,” and the line went dead.

  I stared at the phone and wrapped myself around Priya’s waist.

  “Mara’s pretty, too. She’s my best friend. I have such pretty friends,” I said, slurring and pulling myself closer to her.

  Priya laughed and I felt it rumble through her body as I was pressed up against her.

  “Let’s get you home, yeah?” She helped me put my coat on, even though I didn't remember ever taking it off. Suddenly she had a coat on too, and was shutting off lights and gently guiding me towards the front, since the rest of the staff had already left.

  “I can walk,“ I said as she locked up behind me. My gaze shifted to the snow-lined streets and the flakes still falling softly around me.

  “Can you now?” she said, smiling and pulling a white hat over her long, dark tresses.

  “Yes! See?” I walked straight out into the road as Priya double-checked the door and swiveled around to see me twirling around in the street with my eyes closed, laughing. Out of nowhere, a taxi whirled around the corner, hydroplaned, and slammed into me.

  A scream erupted from me and everything went dark as my body slammed to the ground, one of my arms crushed underneath the front wheel.

  That was the first time I knew I had experienced death.

  The first time I knew I would come back.

  3

  “Lincoln!!” Priya screamed and ran to the street where my seemingly lifeless body lay broken, battered, and bloody on the cement.

  The taxi skidded away and sped into the night.

  “Fuck you! Bloody hell!” Priya screamed as she got down on her hands and knees.

  It was like I was having an out-of-body experience. I could see the scene playing out, but I wasn’t truly a part of it.

  She ripped off her gloves and frantically looked around to see if there was anyone to call 911.

  “Fucking hell!!” she hissed as she felt for my pulse and waited, watching for my nonexistent breath. She started performing CPR then, pumping on my chest and adding breaths for five rounds, until she checked again and still I had no pulse.

  I wanted to tell her it was fine. I was fine. But I couldn’t move, like my mind and soul were detached from my body and I could slowly feel myself being pulled back into my physical being. But I wasn’t quite there yet. I no longer felt drunk in this detached space. The snow slowly started to fall around me, covering my body and Priya’s eyelashes in an almost peaceful scene.

  I couldn’t feel the cold of her hands on my chest as she pumped my heart. I couldn’t really feel anything physical at all. This was a bit new. I’ve never really had this out-of-body sensation so clearly before, like I was walking some line in between life and death. It’s never been this obvious that I was truly dead on the ground.

  It should have scared me, right? Except I knew it would be fine. In my bones, I knew that I’d come back. It’s like I was casually people-watching, except I wasn’t observing strangers but, rather, myself. I felt at peace, oddly grounded as I slowly reconnected to my physical state.

  She whipped out her phone, sat on her heels, and chewed her lip.

  “Hi, my friend isn’t breathing,” she started, as I snapped back into my body, drunk as ever, and rolled over to throw up the contents of my stomach. I felt everything too fast, too aggressively, like I’d collided with a brick wall.

  “No ambulance,” I slurred, not very convincingly.

  Priya’s mouth opened wide. She mumbled, “Never mind,” into the phone and looked down at me like I was a rare diamond that she just so happened to find on the street. No disbelief or fear. Just awe and intrigue.

  “Lincoln, you had no pulse. You were…dead,” she said, as I slowly tried to sit up. My head swam and my body screamed at me to lie down. So I did.

  I closed my eyes and I sang out, “But I don’t ever die, do I? My mom says I have nine lives, like a fucking cat. Funny, isn’t it? I can’t afford an ambulance on my insurance, you know, so best just let my body heal itself. I should be fine in a day or two or something. I always heal.” I flailed my good arm around in the soft snow, fighting the nausea in my stomach. I was swimming in my alcohol-infused brain, and my body barely registered the wet, cold snow beneath me. I never really told anyone that I had several near-death experiences, especially not after meeting someone and knowing them only for a few hours.

  “You’ve died before?” Priya asked slowly. I popped open one eye and squinted my face to look at her.

  “Were you kissing me earlier? I’ve never kissed a girl before. I think I liked it.” I giggled to myself and went back to flailing my working arm back and forth in the snow.

  Priya sighed, and I heard her shuffling about in the fallen flakes. “Your phone is crushed. That damn driver drove off. And a normal person would have died from the impact, but it seems, Lincoln, you are quite fine, if not a little intoxicated,” she said trying to pull me up from my erratic one-armed snow angel in the road.

  “Can you tell me Mara’s phone number?” she asked, trying to heave my body up, being careful not to hurt me. I ended up sinking into her side and snuggling against her.

  “You smell nice,” I said into her rib cage. She smelled like a field of wildflowers.

  The laugh rumbled, and I felt it against my nose and smiled.

  “Alright well, I suppose I can take you home with me and you can call her tomorrow. I imagine Mara will be pissed with you, but I’m not sure what else to do.“ Priya sat me up gently and called someone on her phone.

  My ribs ached suddenly, and I wondered if something else, besides my arm, was broken.

  “Can you pick me up, love? Something’s happened…I’ve got a friend with me.” She stared down at me as I clung to her, like an oversized koala bear.

  I don’t know how long we sat on the curb as I mumbled incoherent words to Priya and she stroked my hair in response. A sleek black sedan pulled up, and the window rolled down to reveal a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, with orange red hair, dark glasses framing his pale green eyes, and white skin.

  “Who’s the friend?” he asked, hopping out of the car and looping one arm underneath me as he helped carefully maneuver me into the backseat. It smelled nice, new, and expensive. Priya slid in the back with me and buckled me up as I slouched against the window.

  “Her name’s Lincoln, and I think she might be a deathwalker. Her arm was crushed underneath the car but it looks like it’s already healing. Did you bring the elixir?” She glanced at the guy, who slid into the driver’s seat. He nodded and handed her a small vial of bright green liquid.

  “Linc, dear, can you drink this for me? It will help you feel better,” she said gently, tipping the vial to my mouth. It tasted like a Jolly Rancher. I licked my lips and had a moment of clarity where I realized that taking mysterious liquids from new people was probably not the best idea. But I didn’t care about being careful right now. The alcohol made it pretty damn apparent that I couldn’t feel much of anything at the moment.

  “Is this your boyfriend?” I said, glaring at him slightly. Anger swirled in my belly as I shot daggers at him. Fuck men. Fuck boyfriends. Fuck fiancés…or ex-fiancés, rather.

  My head felt really fuzzy. I laid it back against the cold window.

  I noticed he seemed shorter than Priya by an inch or two and was built more elegantly. Fewer hard edges and more smooth lines.

  He burst out laughing.

  “No honey, I’m very gay. My name is Greyson. But you can call me Grey.” He pulled out onto the snowy city streets.

  I closed my eyes and mumbled, “What’s a deathwalker?” Then slowly drifted to sleep.

  4

  Who the hell invited a fucking drumline into my head?

  I groaned loudly and laid my arm across my eyes.

  “Hey love,” a husky voice said. “How are you feeling?”

  The events from last night flashed through my mind in fragments. I gasped and sat up aggressively in a bed that was definitely not mine. Nausea swept through me as I tried to blink away the stars doting my vision. I would absolutely not vomit right now.

  Priya offered an amused smile. “There’s a trash bin right next to you, Lincoln, if you need to throw up.”

  I closed my eyes, pressing the heels of my hands to my head and willing myself to not puke all over her maroon silk sheets. I hate throwing up, and I certainly don’t like throwing up in empathetic strangers’ homes.

  It was honestly unfair that I was such a hot mess and Priya looked just as beautiful as she did last night. She had on an oversized gray sweatshirt with her thick dark hair braided to the side, exposing the shaved part of her scalp. She had on small sleep shorts and white athletic socks that came to her ankles, and her brown legs were on full display. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine for Victoria Secret’s loungewear or something. And I was nursing the biggest hangover I’ve ever had in my entire life. All I wanted was to be swaddled in a giant blanket and to close my eyes and never wake up.

  “Can I…,” I swallowed trying not to think how absolutely pathetic I looked or acted last night. “Can I get some water?”

  I scrubbed my hands down my face and peeked through my fingers to see Priya shuffling over to the kitchen, which was right across from her giant bed. The space was open, from the kitchen laid out in front of me, with its rustic finishings, to the exposed brick and industrial touches. There was a plush, green velvet couch, colorful chairs, and a TV occupying the space. Sunlight spilled across the floors through giant windows that lay farther away, and a circular table was tucked in the corner with several chairs.

  Even her space was cool and creative.

  Priya padded back over and handed me a glass as she sat on the bed and tucked her legs in.

  I swallowed greedily and lay back against the headboard. I stared up at the ceiling, which had exposed bulbs hanging from one end of the apartment to the other. Why, oh why, did I think it was a good idea to get absolutely wrecked by alcohol when my emotional state was in pieces?

  “I really have no words for anything that happened last night,” I said, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the aggressive thudding in my temples. I realized, suddenly, that I was in a snug T-shirt and a thong. I looked around and saw my clothes folded on one of the chairs.

  “Did I just strip and crawl into your bed?” I was absolutely horrified. The audacity of Drunk Lincoln truly knew no bounds; she was absolutely incredible, and simultaneously tragic.

  Priya laughed, the sound loud and dark. “I asked what you wanted to sleep in, and you asked for this. And I think you should call your friend, Mara was it? She seemed very worried last night, and well, your phone didn’t make it,” she said, her full lips breaking into a little smirk.

  “Didn’t make it?” I asked, trying to remember all the details. “Oh, fuck me,” I said, my eyes growing wide, wondering how I was supposed to explain last night when I really didn’t even understand it myself.

  I’d conveniently blocked that out of my memory. And I would have loved for it to stay tucked and filed away in my brain under the “Do Not Need to Revisit” folder.

  Did I actually die on that street, or was drunk me hallucinating? Surely it was an alcohol-induced dream.

  “Call your friend. Then we can talk.” She handed me her phone with her tattooed hand, seeming to read my mind. I grabbed it from her and swallowed. I typed Mara's phone number in, patting myself on the back for having it memorized. I knew that I was not mentally prepared for the ass chewing I was about to receive.

  The line rang, and I got lost in Priya’s eyes for a moment before Mara picked up.

  “Mara?” I said, wincing as braced myself for the inevitable.

  “Lincoln, what the fuck?!” Mara’s scream pierced through the phone, and I pulled it away from my face with a grimace.

  “Can you please not scream at me? I feel like I’m dying from a hangover,” I hissed, fighting another wave of nauseousness. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, as if that would stop the vomit threatening to crawl its way up.

  “Whose phone is this? Why aren’t you picking up? Isaac has been blowing my shit up all night and this morning! I thought you had died! Find Friends couldn’t find shit on your location. Start fucking talking before I lose it!” Her voice radiated with emotions: worry, fear, anger, relief. I couldn’t blame her. I would’ve yelled at her too if she’d done the same thing to me.

  “It’s Priya’s. She’s the bartender that tried to help me get into an Uber last night but I, uh….” I looked at Priya’s amused gaze and cleared my throat. “I flung my phone into the street in my horrendously drunken state because I was mad at Isaac. Then a taxi ran over it before I could fulfill the rescue mission. And I was too drunk to tell Priya your phone number, or our address, so I’m at her place right now,” I said, trying to go through the mental checklist of her questions to see if I answered them all correctly. I conveniently left out that the taxi also hit me. I wasn’t ready to visit that, myself, let alone tell Mara about it.

  Silence hung in the air, then a sigh of relief.

  “Well, thank her for taking care of my girl. Linc, what the hell with Isaac? I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay because I know you’re not. I know you got shitfaced by yourself because you’re hurting. I love you, okay? What do you need from me? I’ll come pick you up,” she said.

  My heart nearly doubled in size. Mara’s such a good friend and I couldn’t even tell her what actually happened yesterday. I discovered, then, that the strangest thing that happened to me yesterday was not that my fiancé called off our wedding. A new feeling of pain laced through my heart as I realized that my life had imploded yesterday. And in a weird way, I feel relieved that I no longer needed to be the version of Lincoln that was perfect for Isaac. I can just be me.

  No more compromising what I want for the sake of love or an argument. I don’t have to be less for anyone else anymore. That doesn’t mean the heartache is gone, but I found an odd sense of grounding in the fact that I had made the right decision in ending my relationship.

  Sudden tears pricked my eyes and I wiped at them. I didn’t know if I was crying for Isaac or myself, but it didn’t matter. Priya handed me a tissue with an empathetic look in her eyes. She reached out and squeezed my knee which felt…nice.