Early that morning, we stumbled out of our dorms onto a bus that would take us to the downtown ferry terminal. We were going to Port Townsend, Kellyn’s hometown. As we waited for the boat, we shared cigarettes and took pictures of each other, all wrapped up in our scarves and boots. Zack blew smoke from his clove into our faces; it made our eyes burn, but it smelled like Christmas.

On the ferry ride over, Emily and Zack went up to the front of the boat, embracing the icy wind with giggles. Emily was wearing her green hat over her curly auburn hair. She grabbed Zack’s arm as a gush of wind hit her small body. It made me smile. Kellyn and I were huddled inside. She had her journal out, writing a poem about one of her ex-lovers. Outside the window, the purple water was agitated by the violent wind, and I noted to Kellyn how natural sorrow felt when the weather got cold, but she never looked up at me.

When the ferry docked, we ran down the bridge and piled into a car. Zack didn’t seem to mind when I rested my head on his chest as we made the drive through a snowfall. It was all snowflakes, flat smoke, and laughter flowing through the open windows. But then we all got very quiet and held each other’s hands. The only way I can explain our silence was that we were young and wistful.

When we got to her parents’ house, we got into the introductions and other small pleasantries. I quickly excused myself and went exploring. I looked around the house, through cabinets, stole used lipstick, and somehow ended up at the sliding door that led to the backyard. I opened it and stepped out into the tall bamboo forest Kellyn’s dad had planted years ago (in the snow, bamboo is unearthly).

After dinner, Kellyn whispered that she was going to take us to the spot where she would sit with her high school lover and drink malt liquor. We were into shit like that, visiting the sites of each other’s heartbreak. On the car ride, I squeezed Emily’s hand and told her that I loved her. She squeezed back and told me to look out the window. We were surrounded by giant evergreens, and the snow was still falling between the breaks. Kellyn parked the car and told us to follow.

At the edge of the forest was the Puget Sound. The cliff stood at least seventy feet above the water. While sharing a Marlboro, we agreed on the site’s sacredness. Zack said it looked like ‘the end of the world’. Later that night, we all got drunk on mead, sang songs from our childhoods, and cuddled together on a full-size bed. Three months later, I would sleep with Kellyn’s ex.