Chapter Five : Get off me!

The Party 

The door flew open before she could spiral too far.

“Norah!”

Mary tumbled in, curls bouncing, face flushed from the cold. She was clutching a crumpled flyer like it was treasure. “Party tonight! Off-campus. Big house, music, lights. You’re coming.”

Norah blinked. “What? Tonight?”

“Sí, tonight.” Mary dropped the flyer on her lap. “And no excuses. You’ve been hiding in here like a monk. This is college, not a convent.”

Norah laughed nervously. “I’m not much of a party person.”

Mary gasped, hand to her chest. “Not a party person? Dios mío, this is your first year. You can’t spend it buried in books while brujas like Rose walk all over you. You need to be seen.” She narrowed her eyes, lips curving. “And maybe let a few boys fall in love with you.”

“Mary!” Norah covered her face, cheeks burning.

Mary only grinned, already at her closet. “You are not walking in there with those grandma sweaters. No, no. Tonight, you shine.” Mary dove into the closet, tossing clothes everywhere. Half her stuff ended up on the bed before she yanked out a red dress with a little triumphant noise.It shimmered faintly under the dorm light.

Norah shook her head instantly. “Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes.” Mary shoved it into her hands. “Bathroom. Now. Try it.”

Norah muttered all the way, but she changed. The dress hugged tighter than anything she’d ever worn, fabric clinging where she usually hid. She tugged the hem down again and again before stepping out.

Mary’s jaw dropped. “Ay, chica. Look at you.” She circled her, clapping her hands. “You’ve been hiding that body like it’s illegal. Illegal. You look like—ugh, trouble. Beautiful, dangerous trouble.”

Norah crossed her arms. “It’s too short.”

“It’s perfect.” Mary sat her down in front of the mirror, pulling out her little makeup bag. “Close your eyes. No arguments.”

Norah obeyed, wincing as Mary swiped powder across her lids, then mascara, then gloss. The girl hummed under her breath, Spanish words slipping in between. When she finished, she spun Norah toward the mirror.

“There. A goddess.”

Norah frowned. “I look fake.”

“You look like a heartbreaker.” Mary smirked. “Boys are gonna trip over themselves. And—if Ivan shows up—”

“Stop.” Norah’s protest came too quick.

Mary grinned wider. “You didn’t deny it. Aha. I knew it.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice like a secret. “That boy’s dangerous, sí. But tell me he isn’t fine. Like… statue-you-wanna-touch fine.”

Norah groaned, but a laugh escaped anyway.

 By the time they stepped out, the sky was already dark. Streetlights buzzed faintly. Mary hooked her arm through Norah’s and didn’t let go.

“Are you nervous?” she teased.

“Yes.”

“Good. Means you’re alive. Wait until we walk in. Half those boys are gonna break their necks looking at you.”

The house was already shaking with music. Lights flashed out the windows, the porch rattled with bass, and people were yelling over each other outside, spilling drinks everywhere. Inside was worse—sweat, perfume, beer all mixed into thick air. Every wall seemed to vibrate.

Mary didn’t hesitate. She shoved a cup into Norah’s hand. “Sip. Don’t sniff it, don’t chug it. Just sip.”

Norah grimaced after the first taste, but she didn’t argue.

And Ivan was there.

Ivan leaned against the far wall, a glass in his hand he hadn’t touched once. A couple girls were draped over him—one running her nails down his arm, another laughing too hard at nothing. Rose was there too, planted on his side like she owned the spot, perfume clouding the air.

He barely noticed them. His mind was stuck back in the cafeteria—wide eyes, a bump, a look that stayed too long.

Norah.

And then, as if the room wanted to mess with him, she walked in.

That red dress caught the lights, and for a beat, the whole place dimmed around her. She looked out of place—too new, too unsure—but stunning all the same.

Ivan’s grip tightened on his glass.

The whispers came fast.

“Look,who we have here.”

“Trying again?”

“Classic bitch move.”

“She’s so desperate for attention”. 

Rose’s smile cracked. Her hand slid tighter around Ivan’s arm. “Unbelievable,” she hissed, though her gaze never left Norah. “She really doesn’t know her place.”

Ivan didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on Norah, watching her tug at the hem of her dress, hovering behind Mary like she wanted to disappear.

The crowd swallowed them fast. The music was so loud it made her chest thump. People shouted over each other, grinding to the beat. Beer sloshed onto the sticky floor. Norah wanted to shrink back, but Mary hauled her into the middle like she owned it.

And that’s when a guy stepped right in front of her.

Tall. Hair sticking up like he didn’t care. The guy grinned sloppy, eyes glassy with booze.

“Dance with me,” he said, leaning too close.

Norah shook her head quickly. “No, thanks.”

He laughed like it was funny. “Come on. Just one.”

She tried to step aside, but Mary nudged her shoulder with a smirk. “One song won’t kill you.”

Norah shot her a look—seriously?—but the guy was already yanking her hand, pulling her deeper into the crowd. At first it was just clumsy. Too hot, too many bodies, his hands edging where they shouldn’t. She moved stiff, trying not to make a fuss. But then his grip slid lower.

Her chest tightened. “Stop,” she said, sharp enough to cut through the music.

He only grinned wider, fingers pressing harder into her hip. His other hand crept higher, brushing too close.

She froze. Fear tangled with heat in her face. “I said stop!”

The boy ignored her.

Norah shoved him, hard. “Get off me!”

He staggered back a step, then laughed, ugly and mean. “What—you wear a dress like that and act surprised? Don’t play innocent.”

The words stung worse than the touch. Eyes turned. People started watching. Whispers curled in the air like smoke.

Norah’s palm moved before she thought—crack. Her hand smacked across his cheek. The sound cut sharp through the music.

His grin vanished. Rage snapped in its place. His fist lifted.

But it never landed.

Ivan was there.

His smirk dropped. In the next breath his back slammed the wall. Ivan had him by the shirt, fist tight, eyes cold enough to freeze him in place.

The music kept pounding, but the room had stilled. People edged back. Nobody laughed. Nobody breathed too loud.

The boy mumbled something weak, but Ivan shoved harder, his voice low enough to slice: “Touch her again and I break you.”

His friends yanked him away, stumbling, before it got worse.

Ivan finally let go. His chest heaved, his jaw tight. When he turned, the storm in him faded.

Norah stood there, arms wrapped around herself, breathing uneven. She looked small. Shaken. But her eyes still burned bright.

“ Are you okay?” Ivan asked, voice low, meant only for her.

She nodded too fast. “I… yeah. Thank you.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Ivan didn’t answer. He just slipped his jacket off and laid it over her shoulders. It was too big, heavy, warm, smelling faintly like him.

He should’ve left it at that. He knew he should. But he stayed, watching her like nothing else in the room mattered.