They strolled in even though the night was young, and the house was not as crowded as Erica knew it would become. Sol, Hanna, and Cecilia made small talk, but Erica could not narrow in on the words. Everything around her buzzed but her eyes seemed to be focused on nothing at all.

            Yet, Erica could see what happened from a mile away. She didn't even need to be psychic to realize Sol was attempting to flee from their sides to spend time with Hanna. And, surely enough, when Sol went off to get them all drinks, Hanna excused herself to check what was taking him so long.

            Cecilia and Erica stood side by side with the blond girl twiddling her thumbs. Finally, she broke the silence.

            "I, um, never got your name," she piped up, bracing herself.

            Erica, however, shook her head as she realized she finally had time to speak to Cecilia and she was wasting it by being preoccupied with matters she couldn't change.

            "How rude of me," Erica replied, pursing her lips. "Sorry. I'm Erica. Sol told me you're Cecilia. I've been out of it all day."

            "It's all right," Cecilia returned, smiling timidly. "I had a chem lab today at 10 AM and I keep thinking I'm about to doze off."

            "Chem?" Erica murmured, wrinkling her nose. "I never had to take that. I just settled on some geology class."

            "It's my major," Cecilia revealed, biting down on her bottom lip as if waiting for ridicule. "Well, biochemistry."

            "Wow," Erica breathed, shaking her head. "I can't even imagine. Wait, what year are you?"

            "I'm a freshman," she answered, flushing slightly. "This is my first semester at Damon."

            "And you've declared a biochemistry major?" Erica returned, shaking her head as a smile cracked over her lips. "You must really have your life together. Isn't Sol's class one of the advanced ones?"

            "Oh, um," Cecilia continued, shifting slightly from discomfort. She hated revealing this kind of information to people in fear that she was showing off. "I didn't have to take general chemistry, is all. I brought the credit in from high school."

            "Jesus," Erica breathed, eyes widening. "You've got to be super smart to come in with a credit like that. Don't they only give credit to the highest score?"

            "What's your major?" Cecilia changed the subject, but winced at her own reaction as she realized she was being rude.

            "I think it's legal studies for now," Erica informed her. Honestly, she'd been contemplating changing it for a while now, but she wasn't sure what else suited her.

            "That's so cool," Cecilia exclaimed, eyes glimmering. "I've always wanted to know more about our justice system especially with everything in the news right now. Do you like your classes?"

            Erica paused for a moment, examining Cecilia's words. They seemed to be coming from a place of sincerity, but she couldn't recall the last time anyone had ever taken an interest in legal studies.

            "They're all right," Erica replied, shrugging slightly. "Lots of reading."

            "Oh, I can't even imagine," Cecilia returned, shuffling slightly. Silence fell over them once more.

            "Where are you from?" Erica inquired, tilting her head to the side.

            "I'm from Virginia," Cecilia explained. "Don't ask where in Virginia, though. I live in this tiny little town that no one's heard of."

            "I feel like that's all of Virginia anyway," Erica murmured, nodding. Cecilia grinned at the comment. "What brought you all the way up here? I can't imagine the drive's very short."

            "Six hours with traffic," Cecilia replied, tone languid though her posture prickled slightly. "And I'm not sure. I guess I just liked the academics."

            She sounded slightly contrived to Erica, much different from the girl enthused about learning law. Besides, no one really came to Damon for the academics. Unless you were a journalism student or something. It's not like any of their programs outside the School of Communication were outstanding.

            However, before Erica could even comment on that, she noticed people swarming around a circle of people within the living room. She could hear exclaims of "Move, I wanna see!" and "Holy shit, he's gonna do it!"

            "What's going on?" Erica piped up, narrowing her eyes. Cecilia stood on her tiptoes, standing about a foot taller than Erica and using that to her advantage.

            "I think it's a fight," Cecilia replied.

            "Fuck," Erica muttered, curiosity getting the best of her as she clambered onto a chair in the kitchen and towered above the rest to see who was in the center of the ring of students.

             Sure enough, her gut feeling was correct as she witnessed Tory Simmons, the school's soccer star, nearly trembling with rage as he mouthed something at Drew. Drew, however, stood nonplussed and grinning like an idiot as he listened. Finally, when Tory was done barking at him, Drew's lips twitched as he murmured a simple phrase he didn't even get to finish as Tory's fist swung into his face.

            Erica winced as soon as jawbone met knuckle but when she glanced back over, Drew was pulling himself up and throwing himself onto Tory. The two became a tangle of jutting limbs and taut knuckles with Drew eventually climbing out on top and brutally pressing his fist into Tory's jaw repeatedly.

            "Stop it!" Tory's girlfriend shrieked, attempting to break through the crowd. "Stop, he's done! Fucking stop."

            At that, two boys Erica knew vaguely from the sidelines of the soccer team closed in on Drew and lurched him up off the ground, shoving him towards the exit.

            "Get the hell out of here!" one of them cried, presumably one of the people residing in this house. "No one even invited you; you piece of trash. Show your face around here again and I'll kill you."

            Tory's girlfriend spat towards him, nearly landing a glob on Drew's shoulder.

            "Jesus fucking Christ," Erica exhaled, climbing off the chair as Drew was shoved out of the house and her line of sight. "Stay here. I'll be right back," she told Cecilia, following in his tracks through the wake of the fight but not making much progress as some people stood frozen in shock.

            She shoved her way to the door, receiving a few harsh looks but rushing out as she wanted to catch Drew before he left. Thundering down the front steps, Erica made her way into the oddly still night. The music inside was muffled, barely audible against the wind billowing.

            Glancing around, she couldn't make out anyone in the dark but wandered a few steps down the street where she noticed a slumped figure on the curb.

            "Drew," she piped up from behind him, causing his shoulders to twitch as he swiveled his head around to examine her.

            "Jesus, you scared me," he murmured, cigarette hanging limply from his fingertips. "What are you doing here?"

            "What else is there to do on a Friday night?" Erica threw back, shrugging as she padded over to him and settled onto the curb. She ignored the way the cement scraped at her skin, instead examining the dark, unforgiving sky devoid of any stars. That's how it always was in New York.

            "No, I mean what are you doing out here?" Drew clarified, bringing the cigarette to his lips, and hollowing his cheeks as he inhaled. Smoke billowed past his mouth, twisting and twirling against the velvet backdrop of the sky. "Isn't the party still going?"

            "Hardly," Erica returned, sighing. "Everyone's still a little freaked out in there."

            "And you decided to step out because...?" he returned, flicking ash into the road.

            "No reason," she answered, voice growing soft as she tilted her head up to examine the streetlamps, which cast an otherworldly orange glow over the sidewalk. "Just wanted to bum a cigarette."

            "You don't smoke," he pointed out but still reached into his pocket to pull his pack out. She gingerly pressed it between her lips as he lit it, inhaling hesitantly.

            "I don't," she admitted, releasing a weak puff into the air. "I've only ever smoked drunk at parties, so I've never really relished the experience. Thought I'd try and see if I actually like it."

            "Well, do you like it?" he asked, a smile twitching at his lips.

            "It tastes like shit, if I'm being honest," she informed him, wrinkling her nose at the next puff as the acrid taste flooded her lungs and she suppressed a cough. "I don't get the appeal."

            "Here," he whispered, reaching forward. She handed him her cigarette and he placed both his and hers to his lips, contorting his face as he took a puff from both. Erica released a giggle at that, shaking her head.

            "You look ridiculous," she muttered, rolling her eyes and feigning irritation. However, her expression cracked to reveal a genuine grin.

            "I was thinking about putting them up my nose like a walrus, but I probably wouldn't smoke either of them after that," he told her between chortles, glancing over to gaze at her profile. He stubbed out his cigarette on the curb and began to smoke hers as silence fell over them. Erica's grin wiped away.

            "What happened in there, Drew?" she couldn't help but inquire, brows knitting together. "The whole soccer team was in there. That couldn't have gone well for you."

            "Ah, the real reason you came outside," Drew murmured, smile maintaining its position on his face but taking on a rueful twist to his lips. "Couldn't pass up a perfect opportunity to tell me how reckless I'm being?"

            "I'm not going to do that," she returned, slumping forward slightly as she tried to formulate her phrases carefully, knowing the next thing she said could make him turn away from her. "I just don't understand."

            "And?" he muttered, turning his face away.

            "You and I both know you can't keep this kind of thing up," Erica finally spat out, wincing at the intensity looming over them. "You're not going to last long if you stay on this self-destructive path."

            He turned sharply to examine her through narrowed eyes, pupils jumping around the whites of his eyes as he seemed to drink in every angle of her face. "You're one to talk. Besides, why do you care?"

            "I don't," she insisted, fingers fiddling with where her dress settled along her thighs. "I'm just telling you what I observe."

            His smile grew impossibly wide. "You think that you want to help me out just because I joined your stupid club? You feel some kind of forced responsibility now? I'd give it up, Erica. You don't have any right to pity me."

             "Pity?" She sat up straighter and turned towards him with her lips parted in shock. Before she could help it, she felt the acerbity spilling past her lips and forming into the words she'd been holding back for months now. "I don't pity you at all. You go out asking for trouble and get exactly what you deserve. And honestly? I could care less as long as you come to my stupid club meetings and pretend you know at least the basics of chess."

            "That's what I thought," he returned, smile never fading from his face but twitching slightly. "Let's at least be honest with each other instead of pretending we care."

            Damn, she thought to herself, wincing at her choice of words.

            "Erica?" a voice called from behind her. Erica turned slightly to see Cecilia hovering a few feet from them hesitantly.

            "What's up?" Erica threw back, attempting to conceal the trembling in her voice.

            "Sol and Hanna were wondering if you wanted to leave soon?" Cecilia inquired, shuffling a few feet forward.

            "Um," Erica began, ducking her head to murmur to Drew, "Do you need a ride?"

            He scoffed at her. "No thanks. I have my own way of getting back home."

            Climbing off the curb, he brushed the dirt off his pants and began to step away when she murmured, "Look... Be careful, all right?"

            He turned around and cocked his head to the side as he examined her. "All right."

His eyes were devoid of their previous rage, left with nothing but a glassy gleam. He wandered off into the night, embraced by the darkness and fading from the light of the streetlamps.

            "Sorry about that," Erica murmured, pushing up off the ground. "Yeah, we can go."

            "Who was that?" Cecilia inquired, glancing into the distance in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. "Do you like him?"

            "Him?" Erica wrinkled her nose. "That's Drew. And, no, I don't. He's just a member of chess club."

            "Oh, I didn't know that," Cecilia replied, shoving her hands into her back pockets. "He's cute."

            "Drew? I guess."

Erica had never considered the boy's appearance, though she knew many girls around school were enamored by the mystery lurking around him. Erica could see, though, that it was simply sorrow that hung over him. Erica considered telling Cecilia about the trouble that followed him, warning her away, but decided that she could use Cecilia's attraction towards him to her advantage. It could give Cecilia motivation to attend chess club meetings, especially when she learned what they were really for.

            "He's not really my type," Erica finally concluded. "You should go for it, though."