The music pulses through Tina's house, a thumping bass line that makes the floor vibrate under my feet. The party is in full swing, and the air is thick with the scent of spilled drinks and the chatter of my classmates. I adjust the tiara on my head, trying to blend in and ignore the curious eyes that follow me as Nicole leads me through the crowd. The tiara is digging into my scalp, squeezing behind my ears, intensifying a headache and making me highly aware that for the first time: I am the center of attention.

"Relax, Lace," Nicole says, her voice almost drowned by the music. "You look amazing."

I plaster a smile on my face, even though my heart feels like it's about to leap out of my chest. The dress clings to my skin, but I attempt a weak effort to ignore the pairs of eyes that follow me, each lingering glance sending a shiver down my spine. My hand instinctively reaches for the hem of my dress, but Nicole catches it and pulls me toward the kitchen.

It's clear that Nicole is trying to be supportive, but every inch of my body feels like I'm on fire. A steady blush rising and falling with each glance or smile from the boy's we pass on the way. I reach for the tiara again, imagining that it's a pair of cat ears, and try my best to feel like I'm blending in.

"Come on, let's get a drink," Nicole shouts over the noise.

The kitchen is packed, people leaning against counters, laughing and shouting to be heard. Nicole heads straight for the punch bowl, pouring both of us a cup. We clink them together, but I take a hesitant sip. The punch is stronger than what we were drinking at Carol's. My mind is already feeling a little dizzy, my body feeling sluggish, but the warmth of the alcohol helps to ease my nerves a little, building the confidence that I need to enjoy the night.

"He asked about you and Chuckie," Nicole says, eyes glancing past me as Billy pushes through the crowd. People are more than excited to see him, cheering and high-fiving him as he slips out the backdoor into the yard.

I half-expect him to look for me, and when his eyes do catch mine for the briefest second, my breath hitches. His smirk wides, a flash of recognition in his gaze before he's pulled into the crowd, high-fiving Tommy. It's only a moment, but it leaves my heart racing, wondering if he'll come back.

I inhale, feeling stupid and clearly not having any fun. "What did you say?" I ask, cringing slightly at the memory of him calling me a dirty secret. Is that all I want to be?

Nicole grins, her eyes rolling playfully. "I told him the truth," she laughs, "that you tried to escape out the window."

"Nicole!" I laugh, covering my face with my hands, "you didn't!"

"I did," she says, taking a long sip of her drink. "He's into you and he needs to know that you're available."

I glance towards the backdoor, where Billy has disappeared into the yard. The knot of nerves in my stomach tightens, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling together. How does he get under my skin so easily? I take another sip of the punch, trying to steady myself, but the flutter only grows.

I think of our date at the diner a few weeks ago, how excited I had been to have his attention, but now… I swallow, looking away quickly. Maybe this is what high school relationships are supposed to be like? No real connection, no real conversation, just worried about the way we look in front of others. When our next make-out session might be.

"He's been hovering all night," I mutter, more to myself than Nicole.

Nicole follows my gaze, her smile fading slightly. "He likes you, Lace, and who can blame him?"

"He looks at me like I'm some trophy," I continue, glancing away and sipping on my drink once more, trying to chase away the nerves, "and he probably thinks he can win because of what Carol pulled tonight."

I'm still upset with her. Carol had been there the night of the date with Chuck, she had been the one who talked me off of the edge … literally off the edge of the bench in the bathroom as I tried to hoist myself through the window. She knew how I felt about Chuck, she knew what Nicole's plan was for me and Billy, and yet she embarrassed me anyway.

"You don't have to like him back," Nicole reminds me, drawing my attention back to her. Her smile falters slightly, when she notices Carol waiting for us by the back door. "Don't be mad at Carol, she thinks you and Chuck are cute together."

I'm not surprised by Nicole's need to defend Carol, the two of them always seem to have a mutual understanding for each other that doesn't extend to include me. I nod, remaining neutral despite my irritation. The weight of expectation from Chuck, from Carol, and even Nicole feels suffocating, like a blanket that's too warm.

I've always been the responsible one, the perfect one, and now standing in a dress that isn't mine, at a party where I feel out of place, I wonder if I'm losing myself in their expectations. Was there anything really wrong with the way I was before?

"Lacy!" someone calls out, pulling me from my thoughts. I turn to see Tori and a few of the tennis girls approaching. They're dressed as the Pink Ladies from Grease, their matching outfits a stark contrast to my dress. I am slightly envious of them. They look carefree, comfortable, like they're actually having fun together. I glance down at my costume, wondering what they think of me.

"You look incredible!" Tori exclaims, giving me a hug.

Nicole eyes them with a hint of disdain, but I ignore it. "I love your costumes," I say, genuinely impressed. "We should do a team one next year," I add, feeling Nicole shift next to me, a bitter chuckle escaping her mouth.

"Last minute," Tori shrugs, glancing at Nicole with an amused look, "but it works."

"Very simple," Nicole agrees with a tight smile, clearly unimpressed.

Before the tension can snap, Tori changes the subject. "Did we see you arrive with Billy?"

I feel my cheeks heat up and glance around, hoping no one else heard. "He just gave me a ride," I say, trying to sound casual. The tennis girls giggle, and I can't help but smile a little. They seem genuinely interested, excited even if I don't have a lot to share with them.

The warmth of their excited chatter wraps around me like a comforting embrace. I'm just starting to relax when Nicole's clipped voice slices through the moment, "Come on, Carl's waiting for us." Her impatience is a cold splash of reality, pulling me away from my brief respite.

I bite my lip, feeling a slight irritation build at Nicole. I want to stay here with them, laugh, and talk about anything that isn't Billy or Chuck, but I know that this isn't an option. This is a typical response for Nicole and Carol, refusing to share their spotlight with anyone they deemed unworthy. I know I can't let her walk away without me, not after everything she has done to ensure I standout tonight. I give Tori an apologetic smile, hoping she understands the fine social line that I teeter daily.

Nicole links her arm through mine, pulling me back through the throng of people where Carol waits for us. Carol is standing with Tommy, looking irritated, eyes narrowing when she spots me.

"What took you so long?" she demands, eyes flitting towards the kitchen where we left Tori and the tennis team behind.

Carol's gaze sharpens as she waits for my response, an unspoken challenge in her eyes. She doesn't need to say it – I know she expects me to play alone, to be the perfect, accommodating friend. But tonight, something about the way she looks at me, like I'm just another piece on her chessboard, makes me want to push back.

"I was talking to my friends," I say defensively, refusing to drop my gaze.

"We're your friends," Carol snaps, but the look on her face says otherwise. "The keg's all set up," she continues, nodding her head for us to follow, "let's go."

The cool night air is a welcome relief from the stuffy house. I glance around the yard, searching the faces of the people who now crowd the keg. My stomach knots when I spot Billy, a magnetic center surrounded by a group of girls, mostly cheerleaders. Heather, dressed in a short nurse's costume, leans towards him. He holds a casual distance between them, but I notice the way his eyes trail her figure as he laughs at whatever she has said. A sharp pang of jealousy twists inside me, but I shake my head, trying to dislodge the unwanted feeling.

Maybe Carol was trying to save me from embarrassment. I glance at her now, pushing a way through the crowd for us, but she doesn't acknowledge me or Billy, her eyes straight ahead.

"So much for them not having anything in common," I mutter, glancing at Nicole.

Nicole snorts, giving me a sympathetic smile, before leading me to an open spot near the keg. "It's all part of the plan," she reassures me, "he's playing the game. He wants to get back at you for choosing to ride with Chuck instead of him."

"That's ridiculous," I mutter, but I know there's a hint of truth to her words. I have watched her and Carol do this dance multiple times with boys, but it's worse now being a part of it, especially when I don't really know if I want anything to do with Billy Hargrove and the complicated feelings he stirs inside me.

"Cheer up," Nicole sighs, a clear annoyance in her voice. "You're supposed to be having fun."

I nod, taking a cup from the keg and sipping to give myself something to do. My eyes find Billy again, frowning when Heather reaches up to play with his hair, and I can't help but decide I want his attention more than I'm willing to admit.

I take a seat next to Nicole onto a lounge chair, sipping on my drink, and trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach every time I catch a glimpse of Billy. Nicole's talking to some girls from our grade, but my mind is elsewhere. Billy's laughter carries over the music, drawing my attention once again. He has the group of girls eating out of the palm of his hand, his charm working his magic. I hate how effortlessly he can make everyone fall for him, myself included.

Tommy's voice cuts through the chatter, loud and boisterous. "Alright, you bunch of pussies! Let's see if anyone has what it takes to beat King Steve's record!"

Despite the loud cheering, the excitement radiating off of Tommy, I can hear the bitterness in his tone. There's still some resentment there, a slight sting from Steve dropping him as a friend for Nancy. I exchange a look with Nicole, feeling a shift in the air as a few underclassmen step up, each one eager to prove themselves to Tommy. Tommy, clearly intoxicated, is set ablaze by the challenge, calling for Chuck and Billy to join them.

Chuck, catching my eye in the crowd, approaches me and puts his fedora on my head, lifting an eyebrow at me, "Hold this for me, would you?"

I shift, taking the hat off my head and resting it on my knee. "Sure Chuckie," I smile sheepishly, but over his shoulder I can see Billy watching the exchange. He licks his lips, nodding slightly towards me, and I wonder if he feels the same way I did a moment ago, watching Heather hang onto him.

Billy and Chuck exchange a look when they're standing next to Tommy. It's one I recognize, the same look I share with any of my opponents on the tennis court. Neither boy is ready to back down and I know that even if they don't beat Steve's record, they were only up there to out-do the other.

"I've been looking for you guys everywhere," Heather says, slipping onto the lounge chair between me and Nicole.

"Really?" Nicole says, lifting a bored brow in her direction. "You looked so busy a minute ago."

"Oh," she smiles, looking at me with a fake smile, "Billy and I were only talking."

"I don't care," I mutter. My eyes back on the boys lined up for the kegstand. Heather wants me to admit that I'm jealous, and wants me to question what she and Billy could have possibly been talking about, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction. It's not any of her business how I feel about Billy.

Tommy has the underclassmen going first, lining them up in order of height. I feel slightly bad for them, knowing that Tommy is using them to hype up the crowd for him and his friends. Each one of them attempts the keg stand, but falls short of Steve's record. One of the smallest freshmen even chokes slightly, the beer sputtering from his mouth as Billy and Chuck lift him down. I grip Chuck's hat, a tinge of worry rising inside me, but Tommy hits the kid squarely on the back, helping the coughs subside.

"This is stupid," I admit, picturing Dustin and his friends being pressured into doing this next year. The thought makes my stomach twist, and I find myself looking away, feeling more out of place as Nicole and Heather cheer.

"Okay, okay," Tommy yells over the crowd. "It's time for a real competition."

Despite my disgust over the scene, I feel my eyes slowly dragging back over. Tommy is flushed with excitement, his freckles standing out more than I have ever seen them. "Harrington's record is forty seconds," he announces, lifting a beer in salute. "Let's see if any of you losers can beat that."

Chuck is up first. He's confident, his eyes meeting mine as he gets into position. The crowd counts loudly, the seconds ticking by as Chuck chugs the beer upside down. He lasts thirty-five seconds before he's kicking down, sputtering and shaking his head. The crowd cheers for him, but it's clear Chuck is disappointed.

Billy slaps Chuck on the shoulder, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes lock onto mine, the smirk widening. I try not to read too much into it, even as I feel Heather tense beside me, clearly noticing the exchange. Billy crouches into position, gripping the keg, his confidence electrifying the crowd. Tommy and Chuck hoist him up, and the countdown begins.

The seconds tick by slowly, I find myself holding my breath, watching as Billy's face remains composed, his eyes closed in concentration. Thirty seconds passes, then thirty-five. The crowd's cheers grow louder. When he hits forty seconds, a triumphant cheer erupts, but Billy keeps going, surpassing Steve's record by two extra seconds, before finally coming down. He spits the beer in his mouth out with a burst into the air, a triumphant show of celebration.

"That's how you do it, Hawkins!" Billy boasts, eyes scanning the crowd as Tommy slaps him on the back. Heather stands in excitement, cheering loudly, clapping her hands. Billy's eyes scan the crowd, his smirk widening when his eyes meet mine, and he winks, causing a flutter in my chest.

He breaks away from the crowd and heads straight for me, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You still owe me a dance, Henderson," he teases, his voice low as he snakes a confident arm around my shoulder. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down my spine, but it's the way he looks at me – like I'm the only person in the room that makes my heart skip a beat.

I'm brought back to reality by the cheers around us, suddenly remembering that I hate the effect he has on me, fighting to deny the thrill that is rushing through me from his proximity. Billy eyes flick down to Chuck's hat still in my hand, "You going to crown me your king tonight?"

I raise an eyebrow, unimpressed with his show, but my pulse is still thundering under his touch. "In your dreams," I retort, but my voice sounds weak amongst the cheering of the crowd. "Besides, I don't think you could handle the responsibility," I snap, challenging him, but realize Billy's eyes are focused on Chuck, gloating about having his arm around me, practically ignoring me entirely.

Billy chuckles, the sound deep and smooth. "Maybe, but I'm always up for the challenge," he says, his voice dropping slightly as he leans in closer, brushing my hair from my ear, sending a jolt of electricity through me, "and something tells me you are too."

"You don't know me at all," I snap, uncomfortable at the way our classmates' eyes are on us. They cheer, expectantly waiting for something to progress in front of them. I slip from Billy's grasp, pushing past him, trying to ignore the jeers from the crowd as I walk away. My face is flaming with embarrassment, bothered by his show of flirtation for the crowd.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I announce to Nicole, trying to ignore Heather as she rushes to Billy, now that I have left him standing alone. I can't help it though, my eyes narrowing at their exchange. She goes to grip his arm, but Billy steps around her, placing a polite hand on her shoulder to keep her at a distance when he notices me staring.

For some reason, this doesn't comfort me, my confusion bubbling even more. I want his attention, but don't want to play this game. I want it to be easy and simple like in the movies.

I shake my head when Billy's eyes finally meet mine, turning away, irritated that he's caught me watching him so closely again. I still have Chuck's hat in my hand, and I feel myself wringing the brim in my grasp, pushing through the crowd. I slip into the house and make my way to the bathroom, closing the door behind me with a sigh of relief.

The bathroom's quiet wraps around me, a temporary escape from the party's chaos. I lean heavily against the sink, staring at my reflection. The girl in the mirror looks back, her eyes uncertain and makeup too heavy, a mask that feels foreign on my face.I feel foolish for letting Billy affect me so much, for letting his smirk and his swagger make me question everything. Why does his opinion matter to me? Why does the idea of him liking me send a thrill through my veins when I know he's nothing but trouble? This isn't me– this obsession with whether he notices me, whether he likes me. Why am I so drawn to him when I know I shouldn't be.

I remove the tiara from my head, setting it on the counter next to Chuck's hat. I run my fingers through my hair, taking a moment to massage the sore spots of my scalp where the tiara dug in. With a deep breath, I study my reflection once more, looking for the parts of me I can recognize. Nicole had a point; I did need to have fun with my friends, but this isn't the way.

After a few moments, I feel ready to face the party again. I leave the tiara on the bathroom counter and head back outside, where I spot Tori and the tennis team. She waves me over, and I feel a rush of relief.

"Lacy, come join us!" Tori calls, and I make my way over to them.

They're chatting and laughing about our last match, reenacting the way the opposing team's coach's face changed each time I served a ball over the net. Tori has the best impression, her face even changing to the same shade of red as his. I find myself giggling, covering my face with my hands.

There is an ease here and as we talk about everything but Billy and boys, I find myself liking their camaraderie more.

But then, as if on cue, Billy appears and I feel my heart slam once more. "You still owe me that dance," he greets, but his voice is a little tight, like he's annoyed with me. Billy lifts a brow at the tennis team, who giggle slightly when they meet his gaze.

I roll my eyes, locking my jaw. Every girl wants him and I am stupid for thinking I could be the only one. "No," I admit, watching as Billy's brows knit together slightly, "but I'm sure Heather would love to join you."

Tori, sensing the tension, leads the tennis team away, touching my elbow in reassurance as she passes. Billy shifts, crossing his arms over his chest towards my hostility.

"You don't strike me as the jealous type, sweetheart," Billy responds, but his voice sounds a little different, the arrogance missing.

"I'm not jealous," I shrug, trying to sound indifferent. "You're just a show off."

Billy closes the space between us, his expression unreadable. "What's your deal, Henderson? You're hot for me one minute and then giving me the cold shoulder the next. I get whiplash just standing next to you."

I roll my eyes, biting my lip. "I don't want to play this game," I admit, my voice trembling slightly. "It's stupid, and it's not me," I gesture to myself, trying to make sense of the turmoil inside. But even as I say it, I know there's more to it. It's not just the game – it's him. The way he makes me feel like I'm losing control, like I'm not sure who I am when I'm around him.

Billy's arrogance returns, his smirk widening. "Alright, no games. Let's get out of here. I'll take you home."

I snort, crossing my arms. "You've been drinking, Hargrove. I'm not getting in a car with you."

His smirk falters slightly, but he quickly recovers. "I've handled my drinks, Henderson. Trust me."

"Trust you?" I echo, shaking my head. "No thanks, I can find my own way home."

Billy's eyes narrow, frustration simmering just below the surface. "Fine, have it your way. But you're not innocent either," he challenges, "you've been playing this hot and cold game all night with me. Sooner or later, you'll have to make up your mind." It's a dare for me to confront my own feelings, but I don't even know where to begin.

I glare at him, hoping he can't hear the way my heart pounds. "Maybe I already have," I snap, turning on my heel and walking away. I planned on returning to Tori and the tennis team, but suddenly, I feel tired – desperate to be in the comfort of my own house and away from the lingering gazes of my classmates. Tonight is a bust, Nicole was wrong after all – I am not cut out for this – this is not my idea of fun.

I cut through the side yard of the house, pushing past the burnouts who are smoking and drinking in the dark. There's no point in looking for anyone to drive me and I feel even angrier with myself for thinking it was a good idea to trust anyone other than me to be the designated driver for the night. The walk home won't be long, but the deep chill in the air causes me to shiver, making me feel more alone than ever before.

"Are you seriously going to walk home?" Billy's voice calls after me, a slight edge to it. I scoff, refusing to turn and look at him.

"It's not far," I argue, bending down and removing the heels, knowing I can get home faster if I'm not teetering side to side. The pavement is chilled under my bare feet, but there's an instant relief feeling the ground beneath me, the arches in my feet relaxing.

"You're going to catch pneumonia before you make it," he continues, reaching out and grabbing my arm to stop me. "Stop being stubborn and let me drive you home."

"I'm not getting into a car with you," I repeat, my voice firm.

"Fine," he snaps, muttering something I can't make out under his breath. Billy shrugs off his jacket, the cool air hitting his bare skin. I blush, trying to ignore how the steam seems to rise off his body in the night air. His eyes are steady as he drapes the leather jacket over my shoulders, the unexpected warmth making my heart skip a beat.

I ignore the smell of the lingering cigarette smoke, but swallow at the intensity of his cologne. It's woodsy, reminding me of cedar trees and campfire smoke. "Happy?" I ask, turning on my heel again and walking down the sidewalk.

"Ecstatic," he snaps, his heavy footfalls still following me.

"Why are you stalking me?" I ask, stopping again to look at him. "You don't have anything better to do?"

"Jesus Christ," he sighs, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You're practically half naked, walking home alone in the middle of the night."

I scoff, feeling my mouth drop slightly while I gesture to him, "You are half naked!"

"And I'm fucking freezing!" he exclaims, but there's a moment where the corners of his mouth twitch like he's fighting a smile at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Then go back in the house!" I snap, refusing to budge in my own annoyance. I hate him, butI'm leaning towards him, vying for his attention, even if we spend the rest of the night arguing.

Billy steps closer, his voice softening and catching me off guard. "Look, I was raised better than to let a girl walk home alone. Let me drive you. Please."

I hesitate, my mind racing. Despite everything, there's a sincerity in his eyes that I can't ignore, even if I tried. "Fine," I sigh, exhausted, my head pounding from the alcohol and loud music, "but you're driving straight to my house, no detours."

Billy's smirk returns, but it's softer this time. "Scout's honor," he promises, holding up two fingers.

I roll my eyes but follow him to the car. The moment I slide into the passenger seat, I feel a mix of relief and anxiety. The engine roars to life, and Billy glances at me, his expression unreadable.

"Ready?" he asks.

I nod, clutching his jacket tighter around me. "Just drive."

The car is filled with a tense silence, each unspoken word hanging in the air between us. I can feel Billy's gaze flicker over to me every so often, like he's searching for something – a crack in my guard, maybe. The steady thrum of the engine and the rhythmic tap of his fingers on the steering wheel only heighten the sense of anticipation. It's as if we're both waiting for the other to make the first move, to finally say what we're thinking.

Billy breaks first. "Do you always walk around with the weight of the world on your shoulders?" he asks, tone almost curious.

I glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice, but I feel my guard go up slightly, refusing to believe that he can be anything but flirty and arrogant.

"Do you always pretend like you don't give a shit about anything?" I retort, but there's no bite to my words.

"Maybe we're more alike than we think, Henderson," Billy says, his gaze flickering towards me, a faint crease forming between his brows as if the thought surprised even him.

I lean back in my seat, pulling his jacket tighter around me, grateful for its warmth and coverage. "Maybe," I murmur, feeling the tension I've built around myself beginning to crumble at the idea. He doesn't seem to be flirting, like he's trying to hold a real conversation with me.

I stay silent, just calling out the directions to my house, watching the dark houses zip by. Billy is drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, he had tried to have a conversation, so maybe I should try too. Not wanting to lose the moment, my mind races, trying to think of anything we can talk about.

"What's your favorite movie?" I ask, cringing slightly at the stupidity of the question.

"What?" he asks, a chuckle in his voice.

"Your favorite movie?" I ask again, feeling even sillier. Boys like Billy Hargrove didn't want to talk about movies, but I can't stop now. "Mine's Jaws."

"Jaws?" he repeats, lifting a brow. "Like the giant shark?"

"Yeah," I nod, shrugging slightly.

"That movie scared the shit out of me when I was a kid," he laughs, the usual edge to his voice nowhere to be found.

"Really? Why?" I ask, turning to face him, suddenly interested in seeing him in a different light.

"My mom and I used to go surfing," he says, "and I was convinced that it would swallow me whole." His tone is different – softer, almost vulnerable. For a moment, I see past the bravado, and it's like I'm looking at a different person, someone who isn't just the bad boy everyone sees. It's unsettling, this glimpse of something real, and it makes it even harder to keep my distance.

I laugh despite my nerves, imagining him as a seven-year-old, floating in the ocean. "You must miss it," I add, watching as his brows knit together, his relaxed look disappearing quickly.

"It wasn't always sunshine and beaches," he says bitterly, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Moving here's my dad's fresh start."

"What about your mom?" I ask, but Billy's jaw locks and I know I've struck a nerve.

"They're divorced," he mutters, shrugging like the question doesn't bother him.
"Mine too," I say, waiting for him to meet my eyes. When he does, I smile slightly, shrugging my shoulders back to him. "It's for the better, at least for us," I add, thinking of the way my dad stayed out, lied, cheated his way out of our lives.

Billy doesn't say anything and I feel like I've lost him now, the sincerity draining away slowly. "What about you?" I continue, trying to pull him back, "for better or worse?" I'm genuinely curious, but I'm not sure he's going to answer because he parks his car in front of my house in silence.

Finally, he sighs, releasing his steering wheel with a thoughtful expression when he looks at me. "Depends. Tonight it's better."

I smile faintly, appreciating the honesty. "Thanks for driving me home."

"Yeah," he says, his smirk returning slightly. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

I nod, opening the car door. He reaches out, grabbing my arm gently for my attention again.

"It's not a game," Billy tells me before releasing the sleeve of his jacket, "and I want this back tomorrow."

I smile, stepping out of the car. "Goodnight, Billy."

"Goodnight, Lacy."

I walk up the driveway, feeling his eyes on me, and this time, I don't mind. In fact, a part of me likes it – craves it. I reach the front door and glance back, seeing him watching me, his expression unreadable in the soft glow of the streetlamp. What is it about him that pulls me in, even when I know I should stay away. He's unpredictable, wild, and maybe that's exactly why I can't get him out of my head. As I step inside, the warmth of the house does little to sooth the confusion swirling in my mind. Am I really willing to risk my carefully constructed image for someone who might never be what I want him to be? Or maybe that's the point – my image doesn't have to matter when I have someone standing next to me who doesn't seem to care what anyone else thinks.

Tonight something changed, I can feel it, but I'm not sure if it's a good thing or if I'm falling deeper into something that I can't control.

A/N: I realized I posted chapter 5 and 6 together. My bad! This isn't technically an update but an edit on clarity!