Boys Like Him

Unhinged

Since my place was closer, we drifted there without discussing it. The sun hadn't fully dipped yet, but the heat had settled into everything.

The door barely clicked shut before Mariah groaned.

"I'm dying. This heat is criminal." She kicked off her shoes, already halfway down the hall. "Showering first."

I laughed.

"Have at it," I called.

The shower helped me too. Cool at first, then warmer, then cool again when I leaned my forehead against the tile and let the water run down my back, washing away sweat and nerves and the lingering roar of the crowd.

By the time I stepped out, towel-wrapped, Mariah was already transformed, music thumping from her phone, hips swaying as she glossed her lips in the mirror.

"How are you always done before me?" I asked, rubbing a second towel through my hair.

She met my eyes in the mirror and smirked. "Because I don't overthink myself into paralysis."

I snorted. "Must be nice."

"It is," she replied simply.

Then Mariah clapped her hands.

"Okay," she announced, turning toward my room. "Now comes the problem."

I followed her. "What problem?"

She opened my wardrobe and sighed.

"Nyelle," she groaned slowly, "why do all your clothes look like they're afraid of attention?"

"They're practical," I muttered.

"They're beige."

"They're safe."

She turned to me then. "You're allowed to be seen."

Before I could respond, she reached for the baggy top I'd bought on impulse and never worn.

My stomach dropped. "Mariah."

She lifted it between us. "Yes."

"No."

She pulled out scissors. I didn't even know where she got them.

"I swear.."

Snip.

The sound was obscene.

"Mariah, that was my favorite..."

"Was," she corrected calmly, already cutting again. Fabric fell away, reshaped under her hands with terrifying confidence.

She attacked a pair of jeans next, turning them into something that would actually show leg.

I laughed, half hysterical. "You're unhinged."

She grinned. "I know."

When she tossed the outfit at me, I just stared at it.

"Put it on," she ordered.

I changed slowly, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with modesty. When I stepped back into the room, Mariah went quiet.

Her smile this time was different.

"There you are," she mumbled.

Mariah crouched to lace my sneakers, tugging them snug. "At least you've always had good taste here," she teased, patting my foot.

A horn blared outside.

"Nate," she squealed, grabbing her bag. Then she paused at the door, turning back to me.

Her voice dropped. "Listen. Parties can get loud. People can get stupid. You don't owe anyone your time, your body, or your silence. If you feel off, you leave. No explanations."

My chest tightened. I nodded. "Okay."

She smiled.

We stepped into the night, Nate already grinning like trouble behind the wheel. His car smelled like cologne, and the windows were already rolled halfway down to fight the heat. Music thumped softly from the speakers, bass vibrating through the seat before I even buckled in.

Mariah climbed into the front.

"Driver," she drawled, "play something that doesn't sound like heartbreak."

He laughed, pulling away from the curb. "You wound me."

The streetlights streaked past us as he reached between the seats and produced a small paper bag. Inside, bottles clinked together.

"Emergency provisions," he explained casually.

Mariah gasped. "A gentleman."

I hesitated, then Mariah caught my eye in the rear view mirror and raised a brow, Nyelle so I took one.

The bottle was cold against my palm. I twisted the cap and took a cautious sip. The taste was sharp, but it slid warm down my throat. My shoulders loosened without permission.

"Oh," I muttered. "That's... not terrible."

Mariah whooped. "SHE'S ONE OF US."

Nate turned the music up, and suddenly Mariah was singing loudly and incorrectly, waving her bottle like a microphone. Nate joined in, pounding the steering wheel in rhythm, and I laughed before I could stop it.

The city blurred. Neon signs. Headlights. Snippets of conversations shouted over the music. I took another sip, slower this time, the buzz creeping gently into my limbs, smoothing the sharp edges of my thoughts.

Mariah leaned backward, resting her chin. "Tonight," she declared, "we dance badly, judge silently, and leave with dignity."

Nate snorted. "Speak for yourself."

I smiled, watching the road unfold in front of us.

And just like that, too fast, almost unfairly fast, the car slowed.

Nate parked.

Mariah squealed.

My stomach flipped.

We were here.

I stepped out of the car. The night air hit me, warm and scented with summer grass and something faintly sweet from the nearby food trucks lining the street. Lights strung across the frat house entrance flickered like fireflies, and the bass from inside throbbed in my chest. I could already feel it vibrating in my bones.

Mariah practically dragged me forward. "Come on! Don't let the door hit you on the ass before you even get in!" she shouted over the music spilling out, her grin impossibly wide.

I laughed, feeling my pulse spike, heart doing this ridiculous drumline beat, part nerves, part excitement. Nate followed, slinging his keys into the cup holder and giving us a wink. "Keep up, ladies. Don't get lost in the crowd."

The front steps were a blur of legs, laughter, and glittering cups. I felt my cheeks heat instantly, eyes flicking nervously to the clusters of people already inside.

I swallowed hard and squeezed Mariah's hand. She leaned in, whispering, "Ignore them. They're idiots. Tonight is about fun, remember?"

I nodded, taking a deep breath. The door swung open, and the music crashed over us, the bass making the air almost tangible. Lights spun across faces, laughter bounced off walls, and the scent of perfume and beer mixed with the faint tang of the night. I could feel the pulse of the crowd.

Mariah immediately started chatting with a small group of girls she knew, while I lingered near the entrance, scanning for familiar faces. My stomach flipped again when I spotted Lloyd across the room, leaning casually against the staircase railing, drink in hand, eyes already finding mine. That spark of recognition. I couldn't help the shiver down my spine.

He smiled, and the corners of his mouth twitched up in a way that made the heat creep to my ears. I felt my pulse hitch, and a shiver ran down my spine.

Mariah noticed my stare and elbowed me gently. "Don't just stand there, Nyelle. Go say hi before someone else does."

I laughed nervously, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah... okay."