Nora

The plan was to stay in.

That was the whole point.  

Comfy clothes, snacks that made no nutritional sense, and Amelia’s half-dramatic, half-hilarious retelling of a fight she’d had with a coffee machine earlier in the week.

“You don’t understand,” she said, tossing a throw pillow at my leg. “It exploded. Like, full-on betrayal. I was covered in oat milk foam for an hour.”

I smirked and leaned back against the headboard. “That’s tragic. Truly.”

“Don’t patronize me, Nora. I suffered.”

“Did it scar you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Emotionally? Yes.”

I snorted.

This was what I needed. No tension. No stairs that creaked. No heavy silences between walls that weren’t mine. Just Amelia and a playlist that bounced between indie pop and obscure lo-fi.

“You’ve been weird lately,” she said suddenly, cracking open a soda. “Like... full-on avoidance arc. Did your stepbrother do something again?”

I blinked. “What?”

“You avoid to talk every time I bring up that house. I’m not stupid.”

I shrugged. “It’s just... a lot.”

She nodded like she already knew. “You don’t have to say more. I get it. Big house. Big tension. Tall brooding men lurking in hallways.”

I laughed under my breath. “Sounds like a horror movie.”

“Yeah, but with hotter lighting.” She paused. “Speaking of, remember that party Eric mentioned? The one by the water?”

I looked at her. “You said we were staying in.”

“I did. And then I got bored.” She flipped her phone around. “I’ve got the address. It’s not far. You need to meet people. Fun people. Distracting people. Hot people.”

“Amelia...”

“I’m not saying fall in love with a himbo,” she said, tossing the covers off her legs. “I’m saying we put on something borderline illegal and go stand in a backyard full of red cups and questionable life choices. For an hour. Tops.”

I stared at her.

“You promised pizza and pajamas,” I muttered.

“Plot twist: now it’s eyeliner and vodka.”

I shook my head, but a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

She watched me closely. “It’ll be fun. And Eric doesn’t know I’m going, so... surprise bonus chaos.”

I paused. “You’re okay seeing him?”

“I’m not going for him,” she said carefully. “But I’m not avoiding him either.”

Which meant yes.

I exhaled slowly. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for that kind of scene.”

“You’re never in the mood for anything unless I drag you to it,” she replied. “Come on. Say yes. Just for a bit.”

I hesitated.

I didn’t want to see people. I didn’t want to run into someone I already knew. And I definitely didn’t want to be seen, not by him. Not tonight.

But something in Amelia’s expression softened and that was the thing about her. She didn’t ask for much. And when she did… it was usually because she meant well.

“Fine,” I said quietly. “One hour.”

She grinned like she’d won a battle. “That’s all I need.”

I stood up, heart already doing something stupid in my chest.

This was a bad idea. I could feel it but I was already pulling open my bag, fingers drifting toward the darker outfit I hadn’t planned to wear yet. And in the back of my mind, a voice I didn’t want to listen to whispered. What if he’s there?

---

We changed. Slowly.

Amelia did her makeup sprawled across my floor, her palette open like a battlefield of glitter and warm tones.

“What are you wearing?” she asked without looking up.

I held up a black tank top and high-waisted jeans. Safe. Simple. “This?”

She blinked. “That’s your party outfit?”

“Yes?”

“Nora, you look like you’re going to emotionally distance yourself in style.”

“I am emotionally distant.”

She snorted and stood, walking over to the closet like she had a mission.

“I brought options,” she said. “Let me save you from your mysterious-girl-core.”

“I am the mysterious girl.”

She held up a black crop top with tiny silver straps. “And now you’re mysterious and hot.”

I narrowed my eyes. “This is revenge for the coffee machine, isn’t it?”

She grinned. “Absolutely.”

I rolled my eyes but took the top anyway.

Fifteen minutes later, our hair was done, our eyeliner was sharp, and my pulse was ridiculous.

Amelia held up her phone, checking the address one more time. “Okay, it’s ten minutes away. Eric has no idea I’m coming. You look illegally good. Let’s go shake things up.”

I glanced in the mirror.

I didn’t look like myself. I looked… Like a version of myself I didn’t hate.

And that scared me more than anything.