Jackson's POV
The suffocating heat of the party clung to my skin like a second layer of sweat. The music thumped through my bones, every bass line pounding like a drum. Calvin was still laughing at some joke he'd thrown at a couple of the guys from the team, Claire danced with her usual carefree charm…
but me? My eyes kept finding Avery. Always her.
She had only agreed to come because of Claire—everyone knew it. Yet in every one of her movements, I sensed this tension, this heaviness pressing down on her shoulders. She slipped outside for a moment, and when she came back, her expression was tight, upset. When she headed toward the hallway, a bad feeling twisted in my gut.
That's when I saw him.
Derrick.
Leaning against the wall, beer bottle dangling between his fingers. But he wasn't just hanging around—he was watching her. That look in his eyes… that sick glint he got when he thought he'd found something fragile to break. His twisted grin made my stomach turn.
---
I stepped closer to Calvin and tapped his shoulder.
"You seeing what I'm seeing?"
"What?" Calvin followed my gaze.
Claire returned beside us just in time to catch our expressions.
"What's wrong?"
I jerked my chin toward Derrick. She understood instantly.
"Seriously?" she muttered, disgust tightening her voice.
Derrick noticed us then and straightened, strolling over with that smug grin stretching even wider.
"Well, well, the high school heroes reunited," he drawled. "Did I miss an episode, or do you spend all your nights playing watchdogs?"
"Better a watchdog than a parasite," I snapped.
His grin twitched, getting even more warped.
"Easy there, captain… wouldn't want you ruining that shiny reputation of yours."
"Even tarnished, it'll still be worth more than yours," Claire shot back.
"Ouch," Derrick mocked, clutching his chest. "But really, why all the hostile stares?"
"Because we don't like you," Claire said with a fake-sweet smile.
Derrick raised his eyebrows.
"Still as blunt as ever. (He paused, then snickered.) Oh—I get it. You're babysitting, right?"
I narrowed my eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Little princess Greenne. She doesn't need you to breathe, you know? And last time I checked, captain, you're not with her… not even her friend. You made that very clear."
The jab hit harder than I expected, but Claire jumped in before I could speak.
"You barely care about her now, yet you're running your mouth about it to everyone."
"Claire, not now," I muttered.
"It's never the right time! She lost her father, and you dropped her without a damn explanation!"
"I have my reasons."
"Oh please, the same pathetic excuse—what are those reasons you refuse to say!?"
"Guys, stop," Calvin finally intervened.
"You're not any better," Claire snapped at him.
Derrick grinned—he'd done it.
Shifted the spotlight. Lit the fuse. Claire's temper was always one spark away from blowing, and he'd just handed her the match.
"Calm down," Calvin insisted.
But she didn't.
"Enough," he burst out, exasperated. "You're not as innocent as you pretend."
"…Excuse me?" Claire froze.
"You act like a moral compass, but we both know what happened."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know damn well," he retorted, regaining his composure.
That's when I heard something strange.
A sharp sound.
Like glass breaking.
My head snapped up.
"You heard that?"
"That night…" Calvin continued, ignoring me. "What happened—"
"Are you kidding me?" I cut in.
"Don't change the subject, Jackson!" Claire barked. "I want to know what he meant."
But another noise echoed—louder this time.
Even the music couldn't drown it.
A scream.
High-pitched. Terrified.
Coming from upstairs.
"Avery!" Claire gasped, going pale. "She's up there!"
I didn't think. I just ran.
Calvin and Claire followed close behind, my heart slamming against my ribs with every step. The scream had already died out, but its echo kept ringing through me.
We reached the bathroom door.
Locked.
I slammed my fist against it.
"Avery! If you're in there—open up!"
No answer.
Just a suffocating silence.
Calvin yanked the handle, but it wouldn't budge.
"Shit, it's locked!"
He fought with it, but it didn't move.
I didn't hesitate. I rammed my shoulder into the door.
Once.
Twice.
On the third hit, it burst open.
---
The door crashed against the wall.
The sharp smell of sweat and alcohol mixed with something else—metallic and cold.
Avery was there.
Sitting on the floor, back against the tub, her eyes stretched wide with terror and shock. Shards of mirror glittered all around her like a storm of tiny blades. Her hand trembled, streaked with thin lines of blood.
"Oh my God…" Claire breathed, frozen.
Calvin went white, as if everything he thought he knew had just shattered.
I rushed toward Avery.
"Avery!"
She lifted her eyes.
Normally she avoided looking at me—lately more than ever—but now her gaze was empty, like she was staring into something I couldn't see.
I knelt beside her, glass digging into my knees.
"Hey… Ava, are you okay?"
Her lips quivered. She swallowed a sob, and in a flat, fragile whisper, she murmured:
"I need to clean…"
Her eyes drifted toward Claire—as if cleaning could erase whatever she had just lived.
"Okay… but Avery, what happened?" Claire asked gently.
Avery shook her head, unable to answer. A tear slipped down her cheek, mixing with the dried blood. She wiped it quickly, like she couldn't stand being seen like this.
Calvin finally found his voice.
"We should get her out of here."
I nodded and reached out to help her up.
But the moment my fingers brushed her arm—
she shoved me away.
Hard.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Only our ragged breathing filled the room.
Downstairs, the party kept roaring with laughter and music… oblivious to the nightmare unfolding behind this door.
And me?
I felt something in my chest crack as I realized just how broken she truly was.
---