FIVE

Three missed calls.

Six unread texts.

My stomach clenches as I stare down at my screen, feeling my pulse in my fingertips. It’s Millie, obviously freaking out, and I’m not about to give her more reasons to keep blowing up my phone.

So, without a second thought, I switch it off, shove it deep into my back pocket, and try to shove any thoughts of Millie right down with it. I can’t let myself imagine her bursting in here, scowling at me.

I’m sitting on the stairs, everything around me a chaotic mess of dim lights and blurry faces moving in sync to the heavy beat.

People are dancing, laughing, and occasionally tripping over themselves, completely lost in the night.

I nibble on the skin of my lip, nervous energy rattling through me. The buzz I’d felt earlier is gone now, replaced by a dull, guilty tension.

“Gracie!” A loud voice yanks me out of my daze, and I jolt so hard I nearly tumble down the steps.

Jugyoung’s laugh rings out as she stumbles up to me, clearly entertained by my reaction. “You’re so easily scared,” she drawls, every word dripping with tipsy amusement.

Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are unfocused as she sways unsteadily in front of me.

I raise an eyebrow. “How much did you drink?” I demand, though I already know the answer.

She giggles, leaning heavily on my shoulder, her breath warm and tinged with whatever fruity alcohol she’s been downing.

“Just… two or three cups,” she says, stretching her fingers in the air like she’s not even sure herself.

She explains in a rush how she tried to talk to James but couldn’t get through the horde of people surrounding him. Somehow, she ended up with Charlotte and her crew.

I sigh, wrapping an arm around her to keep her upright. “We’re done with drinking for now,” I tell her firmly, easing her down onto a step.

“Stay here while I get you some water or something to sober you up.”

She whines, slumping over like a petulant child. "This is so unfair," she mumbles, crossing her arms.

Rolling my eyes, I manage to prop her against the wall and head to the kitchen, which, as I’d expected, is just as packed.

The counter is cluttered with red solo cups, half-empty bottles, and the overwhelming stench of alcohol mixed with the tang of smoke.

I grab a cup and fill it with water, then glance around, hoping to find a lemon or anything resembling sober-up material.

I open the fridge, only to find shelves packed with…more booze. Vodka, mixers, and cans of cheap beer everywhere—exactly the opposite of what I need right now.

“Looking for something specific?” A voice speaks close behind me, low and smooth, startling the hell out of me.

I slam the fridge door shut and turn around, trying to regain my composure. Standing there, too close for comfort and definitely too close for my heartbeat to be this calm, is James Ellington himself.

And he’s looking right at me, an amused glint in his eye.

My mind goes blank, and I stammer, my brain catching up to the fact that James Ellington is actually talking to me. “Uh—what did you mean?”

He grins, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the girl who got hit in the head today, right?” His eyes scan my expression, and I can’t tell if he’s amused or genuinely interested.

Either way, I’m blushing like a fool.

“Yeah, that’d be me,” I manage to say, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. “Guess I got lucky it didn’t knock my memory out.”

He chuckles, a low, warm sound that does funny things to my nerves. “Good to hear. So…” he nods toward the fridge, “need a drink?”

I quickly shake my head. “No, I was, uh, looking for lemons actually. My friend’s a bit wasted, and I need something to sober her up.”

I realize I’m rambling, but for some reason, I can’t stop. James just watches, looking more and more amused.

“Lemons?” He laughs again, and for a second, I want to kick myself for sounding like a complete idiot.

“That’s cute, but I’ve got a better idea. Use…” He names an alternative I never would have thought of.

I wrinkle my nose. “You’re kidding, right? That can’t work.”

His smirk deepens, and he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Swear to God. Works like a charm—trust me.”

I am unsure and I open my mouth to say something when he grabs my wrist.

Holy shit.

James Ellington is holding my hand. My freaking hand.

The warmth of his touch travels right up my arm, leaving a tingling trail that I swear I can feel in my stomach.

I’m too stunned to say anything as he leads me through the crowd, muttering that he remembers where to find what I need. My brain has officially short-circuited.

The moment he stops and hands me a ginger root (yep, apparently his big sober-up secret), I snap back into reality.

“Here you go,” he says, flashing that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Let me know if your friend survives.”

He winks, his gaze lingering just a second longer before he merges back into the crowd like he didn’t just make my entire night.

As soon as he’s gone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, feeling the heat creep up my face.

I’m standing there like an idiot with this ginger root, grinning like I just won the lottery. Oh my god, I think, I have a crush. The fastest one in human history.

And of course, because the universe loves irony, a girl nearby raises an eyebrow at my expression, and I immediately snap back into “totally-not-swooning” mode, clutching the root and forcing myself to look normal.

Focus, I remind myself, and I make my way back to the spot where I left Jugyoung. Except, surprise—she’s gone. Just… vanished.

I scan the room, weaving through sweaty bodies and dodging the occasional overly-drunk guy.

She’s not in the kitchen, not in the hallway, and certainly not by the stairwell where I left her. My pulse starts racing with that uh-oh feeling.

I shuffle through the house, eventually drifting toward the pool area. It’s somehow wilder out here—people are lounging on deck chairs with barely anything on, and a whole crew is in the pool, very naked, very unbothered.

So this is skinny dipping, I think, half in shock, half amused. I’ve officially seen it all.

Spotting Charlotte with her squad—Amelia and Kristen—I jog over. “Hey, have you guys seen Jugyoung?”

Charlotte shrugs, barely looking up from her conversation. “No clue. Didn’t see her since we got here.”

“Okay…” I mutter, trying to hide my worry as I thank her and turn to leave. Just then someone near the entrance yells, “THE BASKETBALL AND LACROSSE TEAM IS HERE!”

The room explodes into whoops and hollers, and suddenly the chaos somehow gets louder.

My heart drops as I hear the announcement. Please be the boys’ team. Please.

I hold my breath and ask, “Uh, Charlotte… both teams or just the boys?”

She doesn’t even look fazed as she answers, “Oh, both.”

“Fuck my life,” I mutter.

I swallow hard, my pulse hammering in my ears. Millie is not a fan of parties—she’s always rolling her eyes at them and going on about how she has no time for “drunken messes.”

But she’s the captain of the girls’ basketball team, and I can’t shake the fear creeping up my spine that somehow, by some cursed twist of fate, she’ll show up here tonight.

She wouldn’t. Right?