Isla’s hand trembled so badly she missed the lock the first time.
Her chest tightened painfully as she jammed the key into the lock again.
This time it clicked.
She shoved the door open and rushed inside.
The room was dark except for the weak desk lamp Jonna had left on before going out.
Isla barely noticed it.
Her jacket hit the floor before the door fully shut behind her.
Then she rushed into the bathroom, flipping on the light with shaking fingers.
The sharp smell of alcohol clung to her immediately.
It made her stomach twist.
She yanked the soaked top over her head so fast it tangled around her arms for a second before she finally ripped it free.
The liquor had seeped into the fabric and onto her skin.
She could feel it everywhere as her breathing turned uneven again.
“Stay calm, Isla.” She whispered harshly to herself.
Isla grabbed a towel, soaked it under the sink, and scrubbed at her chest and shoulders aggressively.
The water splashed onto the floor, but she didn’t stop.
She kept scrubbing until her skin reddened under the pressure.
Still, the smell didn’t go away.
It felt ridiculous cause it was just alcohol.
But her body didn’t care.
Her pulse hammered harder the longer she scrubbed.
Her throat burned.
Memories flooded her mind.
Suddenly, she was back in another bathroom, kneeling on cold tiles with shaking hands while her father yelled outside the door for her to come out.
“Isla…come on. We can work this out together. Just open up.”
Isla tried to breathe as she gripped the sink tightly.
The mirror reflected strands of damp hair sticking to her face; her eyes were wide and furious.
She’d lost control again.
Publicly.
Completely.
Liam Douglas’s face flashed in her mind again.
The Confusion.
The concern.
The sincere apology.
Then the surprise when she snapped at him.
Isla shut her eyes hard.
He hadn’t even done anything wrong.
And that made it worse.
Her jaw tightened as she grabbed her ruined top, pumped soap, and started scrubbing it violently beneath the running water.
The sink filled with diluted liquor and soap while she rubbed at the fabric like she could erase the entire night from existence.
“You’re so pathetic, Isla,” she muttered under her breath.
She hated panic attacks.
Hated how quickly they dragged her backward.
Hated that something as stupid as alcohol on her clothes could make her recall things she didn’t want to remember.
Her hands slowed at scrubbing.
But the trembling remained.
Isla rested both palms on the sink and forced herself to breathe slowly through her nose.
In.
Out.
Slow.
Controlled.
Isla tried to count backward to remind herself she could regain control.
Ten
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Four.
Three.
Three.
Two.
One.
Safe.
Safe.
Eventually, her heartbeat stopped trying to punch through her ribs.
But exhaustion settled in right after.
She stared at herself one more time in the mirror, disgust twisting quietly inside her chest.
This fresh start was supposed to mean something.
New school.
New city.
A new version of herself.
Yet one bad moment had her spiraling again.
Somewhere, off campus, music blasted through the living room while a basketball game flickered across the massive TV mounted against the wall.
Empty beer bottles littered the coffee table beside open pizza boxes and gaming controllers.
The six-bedroom duplex was a chaotic place on most nights.
Trevor lounged across the couch, wearing shorts and no shirt, yelling at Justin over a missed shot in the video game.
Marco sat upside down in an armchair, dramatically narrating the game like a sports commentator, while Anthony nearly choked laughing.
Kyler spotted Liam walking in first.
“There he is!” he shouted.
“The man who got publicly murdered by a ballerina.”
The room exploded.
Liam barely reacted as he walked to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge.
“Oh my God,” Anthony groaned between laughs.
“She cooked you again in front of half the school.”
Justin pointed his controller toward him.
“Nah, forget cooked. She cremated him.”
Marco clutched his chest.
“I still can’t believe she embarrassed him twice in one week. Historic downfall.”
Liam rolled his eyes and dropped onto the couch.
“You idiots done acting as if she stabbed me?”
“Not even close,” Trevor said with a grin.
Usually, Liam would’ve fired back instantly.
Usually, he’d enjoy the attention.
The teasing came with being the loudest guy in the room half the time.
But tonight his mind kept replaying something else entirely.
It was not the embarrassment—her face.
The second he touched her shoulder by accident at the block party, she’d flinched as if he had burned her.
She looked terrified.
Liam took a slow sip from the beer bottle, staring at the TV without really seeing it.
He remembered how isolated she’d looked before he walked over there.
Everyone else at the party had been dancing, shouting, drinking, but she stood stiffly like she was forcing herself to stay.
Then, when the alcohol spilled on her, she panicked.
Something about it felt wrong.
“She’s weird,” Marco declared.
Liam glanced at him.
“What?”
Marco shrugged.
“Bro, girls don’t react like that because someone bumps into them.”
Trevor frowned.
“Maybe she just got overwhelmed.”
Another round of laughter filled the room.
Liam forced out a smirk this time.
“Y’all are obsessed with me.”
“Nah,” Kyler replied.
“We’re obsessed with your downfall.” He leaned forward, grinning wickedly.
“You should let her win, honestly.”
Liam raised an eyebrow.
“Let her?”
“Yeah. Walk away with your dignity before she kills the rest of your ego.”
Liam scoffed.
“Can you guys quit this discussion already?”
Marco snapped his fingers.
“Bro, admit it. You are pissed she rejected you.”
Liam stared at the TV for a second too long before he shrugged.
“I’m pissed because everybody’s acting like I committed a felony. I only spilled a drink on her. Accidentally.” He emphasized.
Kyler shrugged.
“Everyone is committed cause it’s you. Bro, you’re trending again—this time on RavenHurst Secrets. You don’t want to see the reactions. Just log off for a while.” He said.
Liam took his phone out of his pocket.
“It’s nothing new. It’ll die off in a week.”
“So you don’t care?” Marco asked.
Liam scrolled through his phone.
“I care enough to know she looked miserable before I even walked over there.”
Justin gasped.
“You’re obsessed already.”
Liam smirked, but it didn’t fully reach his eyes.
“Trust me, if I wanted her attention, I’d have it.”
The room erupted instantly.
Liam leaned back against the couch, beer bottle resting loosely in his hand, while the room buzzed around him.
Deep down, the situation bothered him because he couldn’t figure her out so easily.
Most girls were easy for him to read.
Attraction, flirting, attention—it all followed familiar patterns.
Liam knew exactly how to work a room, exactly how to make people like him.
But she reacted to him as if he were a danger.
And somehow that unsettled him more than the embarrassment itself.
The doorbell cut through the apartment.
Justin set his controller down on the coffee table.
He stretched after rising from the couch.
“I’ll get it.”
Anthony yawned.
“I’m tapping out, guys, I have early rehearsals tomorrow.” He stood up.
“I’m exhausted,” Marco said.
Kyler dropped the controller in his hand, too.
The three of them disappeared down the hallway into their rooms.
Trevor was still sprawled deeper into the couch, thumbs flying over his own controller as he switched the game.
Gunfire erupted from the TV.
Liam pressed the beer bottle to his lip and took a slow gulp.
From the door, Justin’s voice carried back.
“Trevor! Don’t start without me.” He opened the door.
The blonde girl Liam kissed at the party smiled at Justin.
“Hey. I’m here to see Liam.”
“Liam, someone is here for you.” He stepped aside, waving her in with an easy grin.
“Come in.”
She stepped inside, eyes scanning the living room until they landed on Liam.
She waved at him.
Heat coiled low in his gut at the sight of her.
No words were needed between them, just the knowing look of this is just sex.