Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card

HOPE

JESS

The bathroom floor was cold against my knees as I knelt there, clutching the toilet bowl, my whole body trembling as I emptied what little was left in my stomach. I felt hollow, both inside and out. It had been a week since Luke and Josh's flight

disappeared, and every minute since had been a cocktail of terror, helplessness, and a strange, bitter hope that gnawed at the edges of my mind.

I rinsed my mouth, feeling the sting of acid on my tongue as splashed water on my face. The mirror's glass was fogged from the humidity, obscuring my reflection-

a small blessing. I didn't want to see myself like this, barely holding it together. Laura was finally asleep in the other room, her breathing soft and shallow in the darkness, and I couldn't bear to add my own despair to hers.

Every morning since we arrived in Jakarta, we'd sat at the edge of whatever seat or bed we could find, phones in hand, waiting for a notification. We clung to each tidbit of information, no matter how small: a few planes had landed on the surrounding islands, some with pas their jet-the hope fizzled out. Nothing had come in, and the days without answers were stretching so long they felt like a cruel dream.

needed a cold shower to clear my head and rinse away the shadows clinging to me.

HOPE

tilted my head back,

it sounded desperate or foolish. "Please let them be okay. Please." The words left me barely above a

them, carrying them away as fast as they fell. It was easier that way, letting the water mask

Because if I broke down now if both of us lost hope, then that was it. The end. We'd go home, and our lives would change forever, carrying this hollow ache with us, a black hole where our memories of them should have

tease me until I cracked a smile, no matter how hard I tried not

something you don't. I could almost feel the warmth of his hand around mine, the strength in his grip when he pulled me out of whatever mess I'd managed to stumble into. I didn't realize until now how much I'd depended on h Josh, too-I could see his carefree grin, that dumb sense of humor that made everything feel lighter like the

is a small part of

surrendering to the worst. But I wouldn't. I couldn't. I ne Wrapping the towel around myself, I stepped out into the dim light of the hotel room. Laura was curled up on her

on my neck where Luke's hand had rested the last time we were together, right before he left. His fingers had been warm and steady, a small but solid promise that I'd see him soon.

there, but eventually, the morning light grew stronger, spilling across the