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The party is loud and chaotic, a blur of teenage energy. I stick close to my friends, feeling a mix of exhilaration and uncertainty. As we weave through the crowd, my eyes land on the most attractive person I’ve ever met.
He’s tall with floppy blond hair, a chiseled face, and piercing blue eyes. My heart skips a beat as our eyes meet.
To my surprise, he approaches me, flashing a charming smile. “I’m Jonah,” he says, his voice smooth and confident. “And you are?”
My friends giggle and nudge each other, their excitement palpable as I smile. “I’m Sofia.”
“Nice to meet you, Sofia. Do you want to dance?”
My friends squeal and nudge me forward, and I take Jonah’s hand. We dance together in the dimly lit room. His hands find my waist, and I feel a thrill of being noticed, of being wanted. The music pulses around us, and I lose myself in the moment.
I find out that Jonah’s full name is Jonah Ansel and he’s a sophomore in college. He told me the name of the school, but I can’t remember it.
Jonah presses a red Solo cup into my hand, his smile encouraging. I hesitate for a moment, but wanting to feel cool, I take a sip. The taste is bitter and disgusting, but I force myself to drink it anyway. I can’t let him see my discomfort. Another cup follows, and another, and soon, the edges of my world begin to blur.
The cups refill endlessly, and the world around me starts to spin, the lights blurring into streaks of color. I feel a growing discomfort in my stomach, and my head feels heavy. I try to find my friends, but they’re nowhere in sight, swallowed by the crowd.
“Hey, I don’t feel so good,” I mumble, swaying on my feet.
Jonah catches me, his grip firm but unsettling. “Come on, I’ll take you home,” he says, his voice smooth but with an edge I can’t quite place.
“Where are my friends?” I ask, my words slurring together. “I need to find them.”
“They probably left already,” he replies, guiding me toward the door. “Let’s get you home.”
As we step outside, the cool night air hits me, but it does little to clear my head. Jonah has to support me as I stumble, my legs barely able to hold me up.
“You’re so nice, Jonah,” I mumble, trying to keep my eyes open. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Of course,” he says, but his tone is different now, colder. “Just trust me.”
We walk a little further, but something feels wrong. I glance around, my vision hazy, and realize he’s leading me to a darkened alley.
“Wait… where are we going?” Panic rises in my chest as I try to pull away from him. “I want to go home.”
Jonah’s grip tightens, and fear floods through me. “Relax, Sofia,” he says, his voice hardening. “We’re almost there.”
“No, let me go!” I cry, struggling against him. But he’s too strong, overpowering me with ease.
I faintly hear someone calling my name, and I scream, the sound echoing off the walls of the alley. “Help!”
“SOFIA!”
“Somebody help me! Jonah, STOP IT!”
“Sofia! WAKE UP!”
I wake up, heart pounding, drenched in sweat. In the dim light, I become aware of Angelo’s arms around me, his presence both comforting and overwhelming.
“Sofia? Are you alright?” His voice is thick with concern.
A wave of nausea hits me, and I shove away from him, stumbling out of bed. I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m bent over the toilet, dry heaving. The dream clings to me like a second skin, unwanted and suffocating.
I hear Angelo’s footsteps, then his presence at the bathroom door. When I finally look up, he’s holding out a glass of water. I take it gratefully, shame burning in my cheeks. I can’t believe I had another night terror in front of Angelo.
“Thank you,” I murmur, avoiding his eyes.
“Who’s Jonah?” Angelo asks.
