Page 104 of From the Wreckage

The music thunders, the bass rattling my ribs as colors smear across the writhing crowd. For one fragile second, I let myself believe Meghan might be right. Maybe this is what I needed.

My skin is hot, damp with sweat as I sway to the beat. The crowd presses shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with perfume, cologne, and spilled beer.

“Thirsty?” Joey murmurs, his breath brushing my ear.

“Yes,” I admit, my throat dry, my voice catching.

He signals, and Melissa and Sophie reappear, weaving through the mass of bodies with cups in hand. Joey takes two, pressing one into mine. His grin is easy, practiced. “Here.”

I hesitate, then sip. The fizz masks the bite, sweeter than before. I hand it back after a few gulps, my body already humming, restless.

The floor tilts a little. I blink a few times, and my vision clears.

Joey downs the rest of his like it’s nothing. Meghan whoops, looping her arm through mine as the song shifts to one that’s louder and faster. She yanks me into motion, and I let her, laughing again. But the sound feels too sharp in my throat.

The lights smear into streaks of color. The bass pulses, not just in my chest, but in my head and bones. I blink, but the haze doesn’t clear. My limbs are heavy and loose at once, like I’m moving through water.

I stumble, catching myself on Meghan’s shoulder.

“A little tipsy, huh?” she shouts, grinning like this proves her right. “Isn’t this what you needed?”

I nod, but my tongue feels thick, the word lodged in my throat. Heat crawls up my neck. My pulse hammers an uneven staccato.

The crowd blurs, faces smeared by the flashing lights. My knees buckle, dizziness rolling through me until I almost collapse into Joey.

His hand clamps on my waist, steadying me, pulling me close.

“Easy,” he murmurs, smooth and steady. “I’ve got you.”

Joey keeps his arm firmly around my waist, steadying me like a lifeline. My body wants to lean into it, but my gut twists, screaming against it.No. He’s the last person who should have me.

“You’re burning up,” he says, his voice pitched low and gentle. “Let’s get you some air.”

Air. Yes. That sounds good. My chest feels tight, the music too loud, and the room too hot. I nod, or maybe my head just lolls, because he’s already steering me off the floor.

The crowd shifts around us, oblivious, all laughter and cheers, no one noticing the way my knees buckle or how tightly his hand grips my side. Meghan flashes in and out of my vision, her face blurred by the strobes. I think she’s watching us, but then she turns away, laughing at something Sophie says.

Joey murmurs, “Almost there,” his voice smooth and soothing, like he’s proud of himself for playing the hero.

The hallway stretches long and warped, lined with doors that tilt in and out of focus. The roar of the party fades to a dull throb, replaced by the thud of my heartbeat in my ears.

My legs drag. My body feels wrong, like it’s too heavy, yet too light. My head tips against his shoulder, and I mumble, “Outside?” The word is slurred, barely recognizable.

“Yeah,” he lies, stroking my arm like I’m fragile. “Fresh air. I’ll take care of you, Bri.”

Every instinct I have is screaming, clawing inside me. But my limbs won’t listen. My body won’t fight.

The hallway tilts, doorframes blurring in and out of focus. Joey’s shoulder is hard beneath my cheek as he steers me forward. My shoes drag over the floor, useless.

“Almost there,” he murmurs. His voice is steady. Practiced. “You’ll feel better once you lie down.”

Lie down. No.I shake my head, or I think I do. My lips part, but the words crawl out slow, warped. “Outside… I need air.”

He squeezes my arm, his grip too tight. “Later. Just rest first.”

The door shuts behind us with a click that echoes through my foggy skull. The room is dim, shadows smeared across the walls. A bed looms in the center, the sheets rumpled, smelling faintly of sweat and cologne.

My stomach lurches.No.