The dress was too short. Or too sparkly. Or maybe it was just too not me.
"I can't wear this," I groaned, tugging at the hem like it might magically grow three inches.
Kaylie rolled her eyes from where she was curled on my bed, one leg dangling off the edge as she scrolled through TikTok. "You can and you will. It's cute. You look hot, and like a girl who's about to take no one's crap."
"Exactly. I don't want to look like I'm trying to take anyone's crap. Or attention. I just want to blend in."
"Well, too bad," she said, hopping up. "You blend in every other day of the year. Tonight, you don't get to. Tonight, you're wearing the dress."
She stood behind me and fluffed my hair with more enthusiasm than I felt comfortable with.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror—tight black dress, eyeliner, a little uneven but I was not about to have Kaylie redo it for like the seventieth time, and maybe a few burns on my scalp from Kaylie straightening my hair earlier.
"I don't even want to go," I muttered. "I'm going to regret this."
"No you're not," Kaylie said gently. "You're going to go, eat stale chips, ignore Jordan freakin' Gallagher, and maybe even have... dare I say it—fun."
I gave her a flat look. "Do you know who I am?"
She snorted. "Yes. You're my brilliant, slightly stubborn, future-John-Hopkins sister who overthinks everything except the periodic table. Now put on the boots. Not the flats. Boots. You're welcome."
Despite myself, I laughed. Just a little.
And when I turned back to the mirror, I didn't look like the girl who spent every weekend studying. I looked like someone else. Someone who maybe—maybe—could walk into a party and not crumble.
Someone who might even catch Jordan Gallagher off guard. Maybe.
But is that what I really wanted?
I stared at my reflection for a second longer, tilting my head just slightly.
What did I want?
To have fun? Maybe. To feel normal? Probably. To pretend everything at home was fine, even if it wasn't? Definitely.
"Okay," I whispered, more to myself than to Kaylie. "Let's do this."
Kaylie clapped like she'd just trained a puppy to do backflips. "Yes! Now hold still—lip gloss."
"I hate lip gloss."
"I know. That's why I'm putting it on."
I groaned, but let her dab it on anyway. It was the price of sisterhood.
We made our way downstairs, the soft thunk of our boots against the hardwood echoing louder than it should have. Our parents were, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be seen—probably still mad from earlier, or just hiding behind paperwork and excuses.
Outside, the air was cool and slightly damp, the kind of night that felt like anything could happen. I slid into the driver's seat of my car, the leather cold against my legs, and suddenly everything felt very real.
The party. The people. Jordan.
"You sure about this?" Kaylie asked, as I pulled out of the driveway.
"Nope," I said.
She smirked. "Perfect. That's when the best nights happen."
I keep my eyes on the road, heart thudding.
Maybe she was right.
Or maybe it would be a disaster.
Either way... I was going.
~~~~
The bass was already pounding by the time we reached the front door. Kaylie didn't even knock—just pushed it open like we belonged there. She probably did.
I, however, felt like I was about to throw up.
My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as we stepped inside. Lights flashed, people shouted over the music, and the whole house reeked of cheap perfume and cheaper decisions. The kind of place that felt like it should be fun—if you weren't constantly thinking about how many germs were probably on every surface.
"Relax," Kaylie whispered, bumping my hip. "No one's looking at you."
That was a lie.
I felt eyes on me the second we stepped through the door, like everyone in the room had noticed an anomaly in the system. I kept my gaze straight ahead, trying not to trip over dancing bodies or the suspicious puddle near the kitchen.
But then—of course—my eyes landed on him.
Jordan Gallagher, half-sprawled against the back of the couch, drink in hand, wearing that same stupid grin that made me want to slap him and maybe also—never mind. He looked almost god-like with the lights hitting him at all the right angles, wearing a white button up shirt- half of which were not buttoned- and dark pants.
There was a brunette hanging on him but the second we met eyes, he pushed her off. She said something and stormed off.
He was staring. Not the usual smug, taunting kind of staring. This was different. Sharper. Quieter.
And it made my stomach twist.
He said something to Aiden, who turned to look at me, and I immediately looked away.
Great. Just great.
"I knew it," Kaylie whispered beside me with a grin. "He's looking at you like you're the plot twist he didn't see coming."
I groaned. "Don't."
"What? It's true."
I swallowed hard and straightened my spine.
I wasn't here for Jordan. I wasn't here for anyone. I was here because for once, I said yes to something I'd normally run from.
I came to prove—to myself—that I could.
Even if Jordan Gallagher wouldn't stop looking at me like I just rewritten the laws of gravity.
~~~~
Jordan Gallagher
I was two sips into some flat orange soda spiked with God-knows-what, leaning against the back of someone's couch like I had nowhere better to be—which, technically, I didn't.
Music thudded through the speakers like it was trying to shake the walls down. Aiden was off trying to impress some girl from his calc class, and the rest of the guys had already disappeared into the kitchen to fight over pong.
I was bored. I was bored with this girl, Natalie or Natasha or something, I couldn't remember. She'd been hanging off of me since the moment I stepped into the house.
Same people. Same stories. Same too-loud music and sticky floors. I'd started to wonder why I even bothered showing up anymore.
And then she walked in.
Elyse freaking Gates.
Wearing a black dress that looked nothing like her usual neat, overachieving self. Her hair was straightened, eyes on fire and alive, and her expression—God—like she wanted to disappear and punch someone at the same time.
I blinked.
For a second, I forgot how to smirk.
She was talking to her sister, eyes flitting around like she was trying to calculate the square root of social chaos, and I knew immediately she was regretting every life decision that brought her here.
But she came.
She came. Our eyes met, and immediately, I pushed Natalie- Natasha- whoever she was away. "Hey, what the hell!?" My eyes were still fixed on Elyse. "Hello? Jordan? Ugh, whatever." she stormed off toward the kitchen.
And now, I couldn't stop staring.
"What's with you?" Aiden appeared beside me with a red cup and a raised eyebrow.
I didn't look away. "Nothing."
He followed my gaze. "Oh. Oh. Gates, huh?"
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "She looks like she got lost on her way to a science fair."
He snorted. "Right. And you've been staring at her because you're worried she forgot her calculator."
I rolled my eyes and looked away. "Shut up, Aiden."
But I wasn't bored anymore.
Not even close.
~~~~
Elyse Gates
The music was louder now, some bass-heavy remix vibrating through my ribcage. People were everywhere — bodies pressed too close, conversations bleeding into each other, everything fuzzy at the edges like a dream you're not quite in control of.
Kaylie had just disappeared into the crowd, tossing a "Back in a sec — Jace just got here" over her shoulder before vanishing toward the kitchen.
So now I stood alone by the makeshift drink table, holding a Solo cup full of soda I wasn't going to drink, pretending to scroll on my phone like I wasn't internally panicking.
"Hey," a voice said beside me. Too close.
I looked up. A guy I didn't recognize leaned against the table, tall, tan, dressed like he tried just hard enough. I gave him a tight smile, nodding politely.
"You're new," he said, eyes raking over me with zero subtlety. "I'd remember you."
"No, I go to Central," I said shortly, hoping my clipped tone would make him lose interest.
Instead, he grinned wider. "You sure? I'd remember you." He grins while running his eyes up and down my body.
I turned away, but his hand came out — fingers brushing lightly against my bare arm.
"Don't be shy," he murmured, like this was some kind of game.
My whole body tensed.
"I'm not—" I took a step back, but the table was behind me, nowhere to go. "I'm not interested."
But he moved with me, hand ghosting over my waist like he had some right to touch me. My skin crawled.
"I just wanna talk," he said. "No need to be so tense."
"Don't touch me. Stop it." My voice was louder now, sharper. A few heads turned, but no one did anything.
He raised his eyebrows, fake-innocent. "Whoa. Chill."
I started to push past him, heart pounding — but his hand caught my wrist.
And then he wasn't holding it anymore.
Another hand had yanked his away — rough, fast.
I blinked, and suddenly Jordan Gallagher was between us, jaw set, eyes cold.
"She said stop."
His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the music like a blade.
The guy scoffed. "Dude, relax. We were just talking—"
"You call that talking?" Jordan didn't move, didn't blink. "Do it again, and I'll break your hand."
The guy held up both palms. "Whatever, man. Freaking psycho." He backed off into the crowd, muttering something under his breath.
And then it was just us.
I was still breathing heavily from the fear. I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't stay there with his green eyes still staring at me like he feels, I don't know, bad for me? Why would he feel bad? He treats girls like crap all the time.
I did what any sensible person would do, and I ran. I ran up the stairs and down a hallway, trying to yank open any door that was unlocked. I grabbed a door handle and slammed the door behind me. I went to the middle of the room, pacing, and breathing heavily.
I crossed my arms around myself silently cursing Kaylie for not letting me bring a jacket. My hands were shaking. From adrenaline. From rage. From… embarrassment, maybe.
Stupid. I shouldn't have come.
I paced the unfamiliar room — someone's bedroom — counting my steps and trying not to cry.
But of course, because the universe clearly hated me tonight, the door creaked open behind me.
I spun around. "Seriously? Can you—?"
Jordan.
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him like he owned the place. "Are you okay?"
"Why are you here?" I snapped, hugging my arms tighter.
"You ran," he said, frowning like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I just—wanted to check on you."
"I'm fine."
He tilted his head. "You don't look fine."
"Well maybe I don't want to fall apart in front of you, of all people," I shot back.
His expression hardened slightly, like I'd slapped him. "Wow. Okay."
I turned away. "Go away."
He stayed silent for too long. Then:
"You know, not every guy at these things is a complete jerk."
I laughed — sharp and humorless. "Right. Because you're such a shining example of that."
His jaw twitched. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Please. You're Jordan freakin' Gallagher. You flirt with anything that has a pulse, talk to girls like they're just… entertainment, and then drop them the second you get bored."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" I snapped. "You've never taken a single thing seriously in your life. Except maybe your hair."
Jordan's mouth tightened, like he was holding something back. But then he stepped closer, voice low. "You don't know me, Elyse."
"No. But I've watched you. I've seen the way you treat people. You think you're untouchable just because you can kick a soccer ball and smirk."
"You think I want to be that guy?" His voice rose, eyes flashing now. "You think I like it? Being stuck in this stupid role everyone shoved me into? The flirty golden boy who never gives a damn?"
I stared into his eyes. "Then stop being him."
He scoffed and looked away. "It's not that easy."
"Yeah? Well neither is being the girl that everyone forgets about until she shows up in a ditzy dress and suddenly becomes some kind of challenge."
That hit something. I could see it in his face — the brief flicker of regret, of realization. But it was too late. I was done.
I shook my head, chest heaving. "You don't get to play the hero and then fall back into your routine five minutes later. I'm not some charity case for your ego. So just go."
He looked at me like he wanted to say something — maybe even apologize — but instead he backed up, hand on the doorknob.
"I'm not trying to make you some… charity case," he said, voice low. "I just thought maybe it was hard for you, with everything going on at home and all."
I froze.
"What?" I asked, even though I'd heard him perfectly.
Jordan shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, people talk. Everyone kind of knows your parents are—going through stuff. And tonight, I don't know, I just wanted to help somehow."
I stared at him.
"You don't know anything about my life or my family," I said, my voice like ice.
He raised his hands slightly. "I- I didn't mean it like that, I just—"
"No, you did," I cut him off. "You thought you'd swoop in and save the poor little broken girl for once. Be the good guy for a night. Congrats."
"That's not what I—"
"I don't need your pity," I snapped. "And I don't need you trying to psychoanalyze me based on hallway gossip."
"Elyse—"
"Jordan go. I don't want to see your face anymore."
I meant it. His eyes filled with something before he turned away. He hesitated, like he wanted to fix it — like he knew he'd screwed up and couldn't figure out how to undo it — but then he turned around slightly.
"You're right," he said finally, quieter than before. "You're not some girl who needs saving."
He left, closing the door gently behind him.
But it still felt like a slam.
And this time, I let the tears fall.