I don't look away. I want him to see the shape of the emptiness he helped hollow out tonight. A small, clean place where warmth once lived.
I want Seb, Tyler, and Anthony to see it. I want them to understand what they did, even if understanding won't change anything.
Not with a single blow. But with a slow, patient kind of killing.
Took everything from me.
For the past six months, I've been moving through life like a ghost with good posture and no will to keep breathing. Tonight felt different. Tonight, I had touched him, kissed him, felt his arms make me small in the perfect way. For a moment, I felt whole again. Then it ended, and the remainder was worse than the empty baseline I'd learned to live with.
Once again, Tyler and Anthony win.
They always win.
I inhale the smoke one last time, letting it sit in my lungs like a memory, and push through the crowd toward Maddie and Tate.
Maddie sees me and stands, her hug immediate. “You okay?” Stepping back, I nod my head and give her a sad smile that tastes like a lie. Tate steps up next, wrapping me tighter than Maddie.
Tate gives me that look that always questions but never judges. "You heading out?" she asks. "Yeah. I think this night’s been enough for me." My smile is small and apologetic.
If only I could tell them how I truly feel.
When Maddie opens her mouth to speak, someone's voice booms across the house from a megaphone, grabbing all our attention before I can leave.
“Tonight, I think we should play a new game. Nothing we’ve played before. Something to spice things up.” Shyanne—one ofAnthony’s many conquests—says it in a sugary-sweet voice. For a second, I think this will be a nonsense party gag. Then she looks right at me.
“Bloody Mary.” Her grin widens, and everyone starts shouting their excitement.
“That’s perfect,” Anthony says, his eyes finding mine. There’s something cold and calculated lingering in them. “I say Mary goes first. It’s only fitting.” His menacing smile sends a shiver down my entire body. People around us start nodding, hungry for what smells like drama.
Shyanne begins listing the rules of the game—candle, mirror, no lights—but the words filter through me like rain on glass. My hands are already damp from the panic threatening to come back.
When I look down, I see a candle and a lighter, folded into a piece of paper, passed to me by Shyanne. Her hips swing back to Anthony, his arm falling around her like ownership.
I look around to find Tyler, but only catch an empty space. He's gone. Good. One coward is better than two.
Maybe the game will be a good distraction. Maybe it will give me something small and ridiculous to hold onto until I can leave. Maddie gives me a gentle push toward the downstairs bathroom.
The music has been lowered slightly, but not enough to be able to hear myself think. A rhythmic beat still pounds in the background as I reach the bathroom.
At the doorway, my eyes meet Seb's once more. He watches like someone reading the last paragraph of a book he already finished—with curiosity but no intention to care.
I push the door open and step inside because I need to do this—to say the stupid words—and finish a sentence so I can get this shit over with.
Inside, the light is way too bright, fluorescent, and unforgiving. I set the candle on the counter, shaking slightly, andstrike the lighter. The flame matches the tiny flare of hope that had lived inside me tonight. Brief, bright, and already guttering.
I cup the candle with my hands and breathe in the scent of bleach, body spray, and a hit of cigarette smoke. My reflection looks back at me, sharper at the edges, as if someone has taken the warmth from me. This town is draining me.
I close my eyes for a second and let all the noise fall away until there's just the sound of my breath and the faint click of a distant laugh.
When I whisper “Bloody Mary,” the name feels ridiculous in my mouth and heavier than it should. I repeat it because the ritual asks for it, and of course, I try not to do anything half-assed. The third time, my voice steadies, and the small flame in my hand trembles.
I'm exhausted in a way that goes beyond sleep. My muscles want to fold, and every small plan I made for leaving tomorrow shivers in a list of things I'll never get to finish.
The candle is still lit.
The game continues. The house outside keeps its rhythm with the music.
I'm done pretending tonight was anything but a lie.
