"It's so hot... It's so hot in here," Noah whispers breathlessly, struggling with his tie as if it's choking him. Given his state, I wouldn't be surprised if he strangled himself. I need to get him out of here before Rory or Tanner find us.

I have no experience at babysitting anyone, let alone a spike-drugged guy, but I guess I need to figure it out since everything in me is opposing the idea of bringing Noah back to the dance floor and letting him become the joke Tanner wants him to be or leave him alone like this.

Entering the stall, I shut the door behind me. Noah keeps trying to strip himself, but I grab his hand and pull it down. He whimpers, "It's hot! I can't breathe."

Supporting his drooping head with one hand, I loosen his tie with the other. He takes a shaky breath.

"Let's get you outside, cool you down," I say calmly as if he can perfectly hear me and understand. As I help him to his feet, Noah clings to me, gripping my shoulders. I take his jacket and guide him to the sinks. Splashing his face with cold water and rubbing some on the back of his neck helps clear his head, at least for a bit.

We step out into the corridor, and I scan both directions. The coast is clear. I lead Noah away from the party noises, deeper into the shadows. His feet shuffle along as he leans heavily on me. I check the classrooms, but they're all locked. What good would they do anyway?

An idea hits me, and I head down another corridor. Stopping at the school nurse's office, I try the handle. It's locked, which is odd since it's usually open - there hasn't been a nurse in the school for a month. I unclasp Noah's arms off me, and he sinks to the floor with a weak laugh. Pushing the door with my shoulder, it gives way. There's no medicine here, but there's that distinct antiseptic smell. I help Noah up and guide him inside. There are a couple of couches on opposite sides of the window, separated by thin white screens.

I guide Noah over to one of the couches to lay him down, but as soon as I stop, Noah turns to face me, arms still wrapped around my neck. It looks like he's hugging me or we're about to slow dance. I firmly grasp his hands to pry them apart, but then I freeze. The tip of Noah's nose brushes against my lips since I'm slightly taller. His body is warm, perfectly aligned with mine, and a sensation stirs inside me. I'm burning up. For a moment, I imagine leaning down to meet his lips. The fantasy shatters when Noah suddenly clings to my neck, sucking on it so hard it hurts, yet it's strangely arousing.

But it feels so wrong. With anyone else, I wouldn't care about right or wrong, I just do my thing. But Noah confuses me, probably without even knowing it. I've got enough confusion for one life. Or for the night. I gently push Noah back, his lips tear from my skin with a smack. I put him prone on a hard surface, but his hands still coil around my neck.

"Let go," I say calmly but firmly, pulling his hands away. "Stay here. Sleep. Don't go anywhere."

I'm not sure he understands me, but I hope he hears me. He sinks onto a small pillow and closes his eyes. "Don't leave me, Leighton," he suddenly whispers. "Please."

His words and the tone make me pause. Drugs can make you say and do all sorts of shit. It's foreign to me because nothing has affected me this way before. Despite that, I reply, "I'll be back soon. Stay here."

Noah nods. I move the screen so he can't be seen and step back into the corridor. Returning to the main hall, I head straight for Tanner.

"I didn't find him," I say tersely. "Whatever you gave him made him sick enough to go home."

Tanner clicks his tongue in disappointment. "What a waste," he mutters, shaking his head. But I can tell his mood isn't dampened much.

"So, business going well?" I inquire. Tanner offers a crooked smile, "Wanna join?"

"Nah," I shake my head. "I'm bored and tired. I think I'm gonna head off."

Tanner shrugs dismissively, and Rory gives me a sidelong glance when I say goodbye to him.

It seems Tanner doesn't suspect anything. When I return to the nurse's office, I'm relieved to see Noah hasn't moved but is sleeping peacefully on the couch. I'm torn about what to do. Leaving him here still feels risky. I decide to sit on the couch next to Noah, leaning against the wall, choosing to wait it out. The drug will wear off eventually. It'll take time, but I have time. My eyes wander around the room - the white screens, the walls - but they keep coming back to Noah's sleeping face. I stop fighting it and let myself watch him. Does that make me creepy? Maybe. But looking at his face brings me comfort. That is, until the door bursts open, and someone, giggling, stumbles into the room.