"We met over an empty glass. That's usually how it all begins with me. Well, perhaps not an empty glass in particular, but something so strange that when I try to remind people of it, they usually don't believe me. You remember though. You always have been good at remembering that type of thing. It was 2004 and I was with my family at Avalon in New Jersey. We always go to Avalon, every year, so that's really not that out of the ordinary. I was only fourteen at the time, and most kids at fourteen would kill to be at the beach, but not me. I've always hated it. It's become a family joke that we go down here just to irk me. Jessy, in particular, is especially annoying about it, and takes advantage of it every single year, but hey, what are thirteen year old girls for if not to bug their older brothers?

"Hey Jaaaames," Jessy taunted. I already knew where this was going.
"Hey Jessssyyy."
"Wanna go to the beach?" Jessy said, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she grinned at me. She was dressed in beach attire to the tee, and I mean her t-shirt literally had "BEACH LOVER" printed across the front in capital letters. She looked stupid of course, but neither of us would realize that until years later when we looked through photo albums.
"Nah, I'm good," I said, scooting a little further away from her on the couch, just in case she tried something.
"OMG, but the beach is your favoritest place in the world!" I could just feel more text lingo about to roll off her tongue. I decided I would forestall this and wipe the smirk off her face.
"You're right. Alright. Let's go." I said, hopping off the couch and strolling toward the stairs. Jessy trailed behind me in astonishment, as I rolled through the door and shut it behind me. I walked down the curb, making my way toward the beaches. I honestly wasn't looking forward to this, but the look on Jessy's face had been totally worth it. I grimaced as I thought about the gritty sand and freezing ocean all under a baking sun. I always feel like a turkey on Thanksgiving when I'm laying on the beach. Jessy eventually caught up to me, sunglasses on and bag on her arm per prep-girl fashion. I swear to this day that there was some sort of manual she was reading from, probably titled "How To Look Like All The Other Teenage Girls."
"I can't believe you're actually coming to the beach." Jessy said, looking through her bag for something. She pulled out another pair of glasses and traded. They looked identical to me, but hey, fashion. "Why are you carrying that?"
She pointed at my hand and I glanced down to find that I was still holding the glass of water.
"Huh, must have slipped my mind when I went out the door. Oh well." I said, drinking the last of the water and swallowing. The two of us made our way up the sandy road to the beach and I felt the sand run over my sandal and grimaced. Did I mention how much I hate sand? It's like having sandpaper rolled across your feet. Anyway, the two of us strolled to where the family was sitting/laying/playing. The family greeted us as we reached their encampment midst the scattered beach chairs, towels, and sun umbrellas. Hannah and Char looked a little shocked I was there, but Peter didn't bat an eyelash. It took a lot to surprise Peter. Hannah and Char assaulted me with inquiries until they were satisfied then I wandered off toward the ocean. I figured if I was going to torture myself by coming to the beach, I might as well go near the ocean. If I like anything about the beach, it has to be the ocean. The way the waves rolled in and out rhythmically, always constant. It's peaceful, unlike the ten children splashing around in the shallow water, but I smiled. I took a moment and stared out toward the ocean, watching the white ripples of waves crashing in the distance. I didn't realize there was anyone next to me.
"Your cup is empty." I jumped, the voice startling me out of my trance. I whirled around to find a red-headed kid next to me. It was you. You were about my height, and I guessed you were probably near my age too. Turned out I was right.
"W-w-what?" I managed. I remember you had freckles scattered across your face because of spending a lot of time in the sun, and your hair was curled back automatically, like it always is, which I'm still jealous of by the way. It's okay though, I don't mind that much. You gestured toward my hand.
"Your cup is empty," you repeated, unphased by my confusion. I looked down, remembering now that I was holding the glass from the kitchen.
"Uh yeah, I guess it is." I said lifting it to examine it closer.
"There's this saying about seeing the glass half full or half empty, but it's hard to see it either way when it's just plain empty." You pointed out, using one of your ridiculous proverbs, which I later learned was a thing you did regularly. I moved forward a few steps into the water, bent down and scooped up some water into the glass. "My name is Don."
"Better?" I asked, holding the glass towards you so that you could see.
"Much better if you ask me," you said, and a smile clung to your face. The smile you still wear now."

The room was mostly dark, with the exception of one window, in through which light streamed into the haunting study.  At that moment, Jessy entered the room, and shrieked in terror. In the far corner of the room, James sat with Don's head cradled across his lap, muttering words to the corpse in the dark, and in the hands of the corpse, a glass. "See how the corners of your mouth go up? I knew then that you would be my best friend."
"James? James!" Jessy called across the room, but James just kept muttering. Jessy ran across the room towards James and tried to pull him away from the body, but James just clung tighter.
"I told myself I'd never let you go." James muttered, as he stroked the hair of the dead twenty-four year old man.
Jessy was hyperventilating in between screams of "JAMES!" as tears rolled down her face.
"James, please look at me James! James, please! James!"
Eventually the other siblings were called, and James was separated from the body and nursed back to his bed, still muttering. "We met over an empty glass."