Me, You, & The Party Rock Crew

“I can’t get off this merry-go-round; it spins me around. I do my best, but I can’t slow down, this merry-go-round.” – BTS, 2026

The walkback was painfully quiet. 

Not the comfortable kind that they had shared only minutes before, where the silence had felt full, welcomed. This silence was hollow. Heavy. Every crunch of snow beneath their boots seemed louder than anything either of them could say. 

Izzie kept her eyes fixed ahead. Her mind replayed the moment on an endless loop. 

Izzie? 

Simon’s voice. Elaine’s face. The way Quinn’s hand had instinctively tightened around hers before letting go. 

Her stomach lurched. For one dizzy second, she thought she might duck around behind one of the hedges lining the path and throw up. 

“Izzie?” Quinn asked gently. 

“I’m fine.” 

She wasn’t convincing either of them.

“You don’t look fine.” His voice stayed soft. “You forget that I know you, too, right?” 

A humorless laugh escaped her. 

“I know.” 

Quinn nodded toward an empty bench overlooking the frozen pond.

“Come here.” 

They sat, bundled against the December cold, watching children chase each other beneath strings of Christmas lights while parents laughed somewhere in the distance. The world had the audacity to keep moving. 

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. 

Finally, Izzie broke the silence. 

“Elaine’s always had this…vendetta against me.” 

Quinn looked at her. 

“That’s not what I meant, Iz.” 

She frowned. 

“Then what?” 

He hesitated, choosing his words with the utmost care. 

“Simon.” 

The single word landed harder than she expected. 

“What about him?” 

“What the heck was that?” 

She looked away, watching a little girl nearly lose her pink mitten to the wind. 

“Oh…” she sighed. “That’s just Simon.” 

“Just Simon?” 

“When Elaine’s around…” she tried searching for the right words. “…calling her out takes him longer. He hesitates. He’s always hesitating around her.” 

Quinn was quiet for a moment. 

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I noticed.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” She forced a shrug that felt heavier than it should’ve been. “That’s high school. Ancient history.” 

“He was your best friend.” 

The words settled between them. 

“It should matter.” 

Izzie swallowed, because that was the problem. It did. It did matter. Far more than she wanted to admit. 

She looked over at Quinn, managing a small smile that never quite reached her eyes. 

“Thanks.” 

He offered one back, though concern still lingered behind it. 

“How about we salvage today?” He suggested. “Hot chocolate?” 

She wanted to say yes. 

She wanted to rewind the last ten minutes and pretend Simon and Elaine had never appeared. 

“I’d like that.” 

Quinn smiled. 

“I’ll grab them. You stay warm.” 

As soon as he disappeared to the hot chocolate stand, Izzie exhaled a shaky breath she’d been holding since Simon said her name. 

Her chest felt too tight. 

Too loud. 

She stood. 

Not toward the stand, but toward the opposite exit. 

By the time Quinn returned with two steaming hot chocolates, she was already gone. 

She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, crossed the parking lot with quick, uneven steps, and climbed into her rental car. 

The silence inside was deafening. She rested both hands against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. 

One breath. 

Then another. 

It wasn’t enough…so she drove. 

Only a few blocks away sat the one place she knew would ask nothing of her. 

The fluorescent lights of the neighborhood 7-Eleven flickered against the twilight December sky. Safe. Anonymous. 

Nobody expected anything from her inside the convenience store. Nobody asked questions. Nobody looked at her with pity.

She rested her forehead against the steering wheel, squeezed her eyes shut…and before she knew it, March came rushing back. 

*                                                         *                                                                  *

March 2010

If February had been rough, March came right on in and decided to outdo it. 

With Turnabout–Aspen Brook’s version of Sadie Hawkins–only a few weeks away, asking Marcos felt like the easiest decision in the world. 

They texted until ridiculous hours of the night. They wandered the mall nearly every weekend. After the whole Elaine disaster, he’d even shown up to support her spring production, flowers in hand on Valentine’s Day for her and the rest of the girls. 

Surely…surely that had to mean something. 

It did. 

Just not what she’d hoped. 

“Izzie…” Marcos rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes. “I like you and all, but…you deserve someone way better than me to go to Turnabout with.” 

Her smile faltered. 

“What?” 

“I mean…” He laughed awkwardly. “We have completely different vibes. People would think it’s weird, you know, the popular girl showing up with some emo burnout.” 

The words stung, but she forced herself to nod. 

“I get that.” 

He smiled, relieved she’d taken it so well. 

“Besides,” he continued, completely oblivious, “Daisy’s really pretty. I kinda wonder if she’ll ask me instead.” 

Silence. 

The world tilted. 

Before she even realized she was moving, Izzie mumbled something resembling okay and turned away. 

She barely made it out of Hot Topic before her breathing fractured. 

The food court blurred around her. 

Voices. Footsteps. The smell of pretzels and teriyaki. 

Everything melted together until she reached the sushi counter, where Caroline and Daisy were placing everyone’s order. 

“Izzie?” 

Caroline looked up first. 

The second she saw her face, she abandoned the menu. 

“Honey…what happened?” 

Daisy turned. One look was all it took. 

Those weren’t frustrated tears. 

They certainly weren’t angry tears. 

They were heartbreak tears. 

Daisy immediately crouched beside her. 

“Iz…” 

“What did he do?” 

Izzie tried to answer, but instead, a sob escaped. 

Caroline’s expression hardened. 

“What. Did. He. Do?” 

“He…” Izzie fought to catch her breath. “…he wants Daisy…to ask him.” 

Silence. Caroline blinked once. Twice. 

“…Excuse me?” 

“What the fuck?” Daisy blurted. 

“Is he serious?” 

“I wish he wasn’t,” Izzie whispered, scrubbing at her cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie. 

Across the mall, Hala and Noora had been enjoying one of their usual cousin afternoons when Noora spotted the gathering. 

“Hala…” 

She followed Noora’s gaze. 

The second she saw Izzie crying, her expression dropped. The two of them hurried over. 

“Izzie–” 

“Marcos,” Daisy answered flatly. 

Hala’s eyes narrowed. 

“Where is he?” 

She looked around the food court like she was about to launch a manhunt. 

“Wherever the hell he is,” Caroline muttered, “he’d better start running because I’m not driving his ass home. He can walk.” 

“Care…” Izzie croaked. 

“No.” Caroline knelt in front of her. “Izzie, listen to me. He hurt you, and that was unbelievably cruel. If he likes someone else? Fine. But to reject you by telling you he hopes your friend asks him instead?” She shook her head. “That’s heartless. It honestly baffles me that he didn’t stop for one second to think about your feelings.” Then, her voice softened. “So, I need you to think about your feelings. Okay?” 

Hala nodded. “So do the rest of us.” 

Even Noora, usually quiet around the group, gave a small nod of agreement. 

“Who are you texting?”: Hala asked. 

“The guys,” Caroline’s thumbs flew across the keyboard. “He just lost group privileges. No more parties. No more mall trips. No more group chat. He can find another ride home.” 

Izzie nodded weakly. Maybe distance was really the best thing. 

She reached for her sleeve again, and Hala caught her wrist this time. 

“No.” 

She dug through her purse and dug out a small packet of tissues. 

“You’ll irritate your skin.” 

She demonstrated by dabbing beneath her own eye. “Gently. Like this.” 

Izzie copied her. “…Thanks.” 

“I just…” she whispered. “I feel like there’s something universally wrong with me.” 

Her voice began to crack. “Why am I the one who never gets chosen? I feel so…stupid.” 

Daisy’s face softened instantly. “You are not stupid, Isabella Wallace. Number one. He’s a coward. And honestly? He’s right. You do deserve better, and if it makes you feel any better…” 

She smiled proudly. “He’s not even my type.” 

Izzie blinked. 

“No?” 

“My type is Bill and Tom Kaulitz. Taylor Lautner. And of course, Tyler Figueroa from P.E.” 

A tiny laugh escaped Izzie. “Marcos doesn’t even qualify.” 

“Personally, if I catch him walking in here, I’m killing him.” 

Izzie’s head snapped toward the speaker. 

“Simon,” Caroline sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re on speaker, watch your mouth.” 

There was a beat. 

“…Oops.” 

Then, his voice softened immediately. 

“Iz? You okay?” 

Before she could answer–

“Yo, Fizzie!” Sunwoo shouted over him. “Don’t even sweat it. You’ll throw on some hoochie dress and make every dude within a ten-mile radius regret ever second-guessing you. Hell, wear a thong! Guys love that!” 

A chorus of groans erupted over the speakerphone. 

Somehow…Izzie laughed. 

“You better match me, Woo. I refuse to wear one by myself.” 

Sunwoo didn’t even hesitate. “Leopard print. Victoria’s Secret. Deal?” 

“Ooh…” Izzie grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “I see you, tiger.” 

Carter sounded horrified. “No. No. No. I do NOT need that mental image.” 

Simon groaned. “I might actually need holy water.” 

“What?” Izzie teased. “Not mine?” 

“I–I mean…” Simon sputtered. “You’re a girl. It’s different.” 

“Damn,” she sighed dramatically. 

“I see how it is, Si-Si. Way to break a guy’s heart.” 

Noora leaned toward Hala. “Are they actually gay?” 

Hala barely looked up. 

“Only spiritually.” 

That finally sent everyone into laughter. 

“Alright,” Caroline sighed, once the laughter had settled. “I need you idiots here. Immediately. We have suchi and dance planning. Mmkay?” 

“Mmkay,” Carter echoed. 

“I’m not gay,” Sunwoo protested. Purposefully misunderstanding. 

Caroline didn’t let him finish. “Okay, byeee!” 

Click. 

---

The sushi arrived. 

Hala convinced Sunwoo to eat an irresponsible amount of wasabi. Carter laughed so hard he nearly choked on his California roll. 

Simon actually chased Marcos halfway across the mall before security threatened to escort him out instead, and by the end of the afternoon, Izzie was laughing so hard her stomach hurt. 

Back then…heartbreak only lasted as long as it took her friends to find her.

The memory dissolved like fog against glass. The steering wheel came back into focus beneath trembling hands. 

Outside, the fluorescent glow of the 7-Eleven washed over the windshield. The sky had darkened while she’d been remembering. 

She swallowed. 

Back then, she never had to carry heartbreak alone. But now? She had run away from the one person who had only wanted to sit beside her. 

She took one slow breath before opening the car door. 

After slipping away from Quinn, the drive home was quiet. Painfully so. 

What else could she have said to him? He already knew the story. He’d watched the whole thing unfold from only a few feet away.

The humiliation. The hesitation in Simon’s voice. Elaine’s smug satisfaction. The way old wounds somehow found fresh skin. She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to do with all of it. How did someone pick up pieces that had only just broken again? 

So instead of driving home, she grabbed a bag of Flamin’ Hot Fries and an obscenely large Coke Slurpee, then got back on the road. 

She didn’t really have a destination. Just memories. 

She drove past the coffee shop where the Party Rock Crew used to cram eight people into a booth that comfortably sat four, pretended to study while Sunwoo somehow derailed every conversation within five minutes. 

Past Noora’s childhood home, where her older sister was out salting the driveway against the freezing evening air. 

Past intersections, she’d forgotten she still remembered. 

The roads seemed to know where she needed to go better than she did. 

Her phone buzzed against the cupholder. 

Hala. Izzie sighed. Of course. Life360 had probably been watching her circle the same three blocks like she’d lost her mind. 

She answered. 

“Isabella.” 

“Hala.”

“How’d it go?” 

Izzie let out a dry laugh. 

“Great, you know, until Simon and Elaine decided to go on a fucking jog!” 

Silence. 

“No. Way.” 

“Way.” 

Hala groaned so loudly that Izzie had to turn down the volume of the radio. 

“For the record,” Izzie continued, “You should be very proud of me. I did not choose to lay down in traffic.” 

“I am very proud.” 

A beat.

“Although…I wouldn’t have blamed you.” 

That earned Hala a laugh, a real one. 

“What happened?” 

“Oh, you know. The usual. Painfully awkward small talk. Elaine trying to make me look like the town harlot who stole her man. Hala…she still thinks I want Simon.” 

“My God,” Hala muttered. “She is the biggest pick-me. It is not your fault that Simon practically forgot to function every time you breathed in his general direction for the better part of a decade. It genuinely amazes me that after all these years, she still hasn’t developed an ounce of security. Or common sense.”

“You said it, not me.” 

“I absolutely did.” 

They both laughed. The knot in Izzie’s chest loosened another fraction. 

“Well,” Hala sighed. “You’ve got until tomorrow to scream all of this out of your system. My mehndi is a no-Simon zone.” 

Izzie immediately perked up. “Wait…she wasn’t accidentally invited, right?” 

Hala gasped dramatically. “Isabella Wallace. Do you not know me at all? I am aggressively Team Izzie.” 

“I had to make sure!” 

“I refuse to answer for the sins of my darling idiot fiancé.” 

“And this,” Izzie smiled to herself as she merged onto another familiar street, “is exactly why I love you.” 

The conversation drifted naturally after that. From Christmases past. To Hala, surviving another holiday with Martin’s family. To rowdy nephews. To Olivia’s determination to make it until midnight. To Eddie’s questionable music choices. To Christmas presents. To absolutely nothing important at all. 

And somehow…those were always the conversations that mattered most. 

By the time Izzie glanced at the dashboard clock, her eyes widened. 

“Shit. It’s almost ten-thirty. I guess I should probably head home before Eddie reports me missing and calls the National Guard.” 

“I was thinking SWAT,” Hala corrected. 

“Same difference.”

“I need you alive tomorrow.” 

“I know. I’ll survive.” 

“You better.” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

The line clicked dead. 

Only then did Izzie realize what she’d done. A drive that should’ve taken twenty minutes had quietly become two hours. 

The house was mostly dark by the time she slipped inside. She eased the front door shut as quietly as she could. 

No luck. 

“Damn.” Eddie’s voice floated from the living room. 

“You were out late.” 

“It’s not even that late.” 

“I mean…” He glanced dramatically at the clock. “…in thirty-year-old terms.” 

“Don’t.” Izzie pointed a warning finger at him while slipping off her boots. “Start.” 

He grinned. 

Then noticed her face. The smile faded. He muted his headset. 

“You good, cuz?” 

She hesitated. “Long story.” 

He shrugged, “I’ve got nowhere to be.” 

She intended to check on Stelly, do her skincare, and call it a night. Instead, she found herself collapsing onto the couch. Stelly was curled into Eddie’s lap, sleeping like she’d worked a twelve-hour shift instead of spending the day being adored by everyone. 

“What was it?” Eddie asked quietly. 

And so, she told him. 

About Quinn. 

About Simon 

About Elaine. 

About running away. 

By the time she finished, nearly thirty minutes had passed. 

Eddie stared at her. 

“Did Simon get lobotomized when he started dating this girl?” 

A laugh escaped before she could stop it. “Seems like it.” 

“Damn.” 

He leaned back. “Imagine throwing away a friendship that lasted over ten years, because you couldn’t figure out your feelings, and because somebody’s still stuck in high school. That’s insane.” 

Izzie picked absentmindedly at the sleeve of her sweater.

“Welcome to my glamorous, fabulous life.” 

A tired smile tugged at her lips. “I’m constantly being haunted by ghosts.” 

Eddie nodded thoughtfully. Then snapped his fingers. 

“I guess that makes you the Ghostbuster.” 

She rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Oh my God.” 

“What?” 

“That was surprisingly good.” 

“I know.” 

She laughed at him, shaking her head. 

“Better to face the ghosts now than spend the rest of my thirties pretending they aren’t there.” 

“There she is.” 

Eventually, she stood, stretching. “I really do need to sleep. Hala’s mehndi is tomorrow. I should probably look alive.” 

“I mean…” Eddie looked her up and down. “We’ve got work to do.” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

He chuckled. “Stelly was perfect, by the way. Ate dinner. Used the litter box. I cleaned it. And then she just curled up here watching me game.” 

“You seriously rock. Thanks for watching her.” 

He waved dismissively. “Anytiiiime.” 

Izzie scooped Stelly into her arms. The cat barely opened one sleepy eye before tucking her face beneath Izzie’s chin again. 

Home.